The Legacy

The Legacy

As a child I was very close to my half German, non practicing Catholic grandfather. I spent many school holidays staying with my grandparents, and my mind is filled with treasured memories of happy times. My grandfather built a cubby house for my cousin, Michael, and I to play in and he supplied us with cups and saucers and household items to furnish it. He filled the house up with an aroma of deletable scents as I hovered over him, as he cooked in the kitchen.  His skills from the days of owning a restaurant by the wharves, were still apparent. He played pool and snooker with me on his large billiard table, teaching me all he thought I should know. Then we sat together in comfort and watched the professionals play on television. He had fought in World War II against Japan in the dense jungles of hot and humid Papua New Guinea. Being born in 1903 meant he was well over the age of conscription when the war broke out. Fighting against his mother’s own country men in Europe wasn’t a decision he was to make, however, with Australia being threatened by the Japanese and the presence of the enemy submarines on our beautiful coastlines, he made a choice. He chose to fight for the freedom of his children, and for the freedom of his yet to be born grandchildren, of whom  I was one of them. My love for him was deep and my appreciation for the gift of freedom his sacrifice gave to me, will be present always in my heart. My grandfather died at 81, when I was 19 years of age. I sobbed my way through the funeral, as I gazed at the wooden coffin draped with an Australian flag. “The Last Post” was mournfully played on a solo trumpet and my grandfather was gone, my mind a myriad of coloured memories of happiness.

The years passed and I married the love of my life and we filled our home with the joy and laughter of three precious and beautiful daughters. I missed my grandfather so much. I cherished the life of my aging grandmother even more, until one day, she too, sadly passed away. It was then and only then I discovered that many years previous, my grandfather had saved something small and something special for his great grandchildren, which included my three girls. He had saved a collection of round fifty cent Australian coins, one for each of his great grandchildren, who at the time of his death were mostly still unborn. These had never been bequeathed to the great grandchildren, as one by one of them had been born. Instead they had remained with my grandmother until her death brought to light the collection of coins and who they were to be given to.

On February 14, 1966 Australia introduced decimal currency. Up until that time we had had an evolving history of currency based on the old British Sterling System of pounds, shillings and pence. We were to now have dollars and cents and the new coinage was based on bronze and silver. The largest denomination coin produced, was the ‘round silver fifty’. The Royal Australian mint in 1966 rolled out over 36 million ‘round silver fifties’, thus the coins are not rare. One side had the embossed impression of our Queen Elizabeth II, with the Australian coat of arms on the reverse side. The coins were struck in 80% silver and with the rising cost of silver the Australian government was soon losing money on it’s coin production. Within a year the manufacture ceased as the coins became much more valuable than fifty cents. Eventually, after the withdrawal of minting the ‘round silver fifties’, the Royal Australian mint, in 1969, started producing a twelve sided fifty cent coin made from copper and nickel, a coin we still have today.

My girls, many years after the death of their great grandfather, whom they had never known or met received a legacy from him. They each received a silver, round fifty cent coin. They received their gift from a man who had thought of them long before they were born. A man who wished to give to them a special treasure. As a Christian I often wonder about the legacy I have been given. In my hands I hold a Bible. Its pages filled with English words that come to me through the hardship, the self sacrifice, the time, the energy, the thoughtful care and even of the life and freedom itself of those who have gone before me. My Bible is a legacy of many who desired to bequeath to me the Word of the Living God. Do I treasure it? Do I recognise it’s true value? Do I open it’s pages in wonder and delight at the priceless Words of Life before me? I pick up my Bible and wonder at it’s hidden treasures of wealth and I thank God for those who went before me, who kept the Word of God for me, that I may read and live. Will I cherish my bible and with joy spend time reading it each day as  did those who have gone before me, and who  gave so much that I may be able to read it?

John Wycliffe translating  and handwriting the Bible into English

An original handwritten English Bible

Heb 12:1 Therefore, since we have so great a cloud of witnesses surrounding us, let us also lay aside every encumbrance and the sin which so easily entangles us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us

Rom 10:17 So then faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the word of God.

Matt 4:4 Jesus answered, "It is written: 'Man shall not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.'"