Gogo Frances – A tribute

When Frances hugged you, you stayed hugged.

I remember her standing in church, or in her one bedroom Unit in the Yernga Village with arms stretched wide, ready to embrace me. ‘There’s my pin-up boy’ she would say with light flecked eyes, and I would smile and say “How are you, beautiful?”

I loved Frances Bennett.

I am concerned that if I told you that Frances was a silver haired great grandmother, it might conjure up images of staid, frail old women in rocking chairs. So instead let me just say that Frances was timeless. Her signature was joy. 

I remember visiting her after her hip operation, “How are you beautiful?” I asked…. “I’m tip top!” I can hear her say, laughter echoing in her voice as she lay on her hospital bed. Frances was never the kind to complain about anything.

One day about 6 years ago I was visiting her after my very first trip to Swaziland. I was in my final year of medicine and I had undertaken an elective working in the rural areas of the Lubombo mountains. At the time in Siteki, there were more coffin salesmen than grocery stores due to the ravages of HIV/AIDS. Over a cup of tea I sat on her little couch and shared with her my pictures and stories of a gracious people suffering under the weight of extreme poverty and disease. Among other things I told her of a little carepoint for orphans and vulnerable children where 200 children would come for a meal each day. A few good people had started building a structure to shelter these children but funds and enthusiasm had run dry and they had left, leaving just a few bricks and many dissapointed children. She listened and wiped tears away as she heard my stories.

“I wish there was something I could do to help.” she said.

 ”Your prayers and love are help enough, dear Frances” I told her. 

A week later I received a call from my friend. Her voice sounded somehow different and I was concerned. 

“Maithri, I need you to come and see me.”

“What’s happened?” I asked, “Is everything ok? Are you hurt?”

I rushed over to her home and she invited me in.

“Sit down, close your eyes and hold out your hands” she told me.

With a trembling hand she placed a piece of paper in mine.

As I opened my eyes I saw a cheque. I made a promise to Francis at the time not to share how much that cheque was for, but it was all that she had to give.

“Put a roof on that shelter. I dont want those children to have to study in the rain.”  she told me.

The rest, as they say, is history. We did put that roof on the carepoint in Moyeni and today 200 preschool aged children come there each day for food, teaching and community.

Over the years that followed I kept going to Swaziland. I graduated, became a doctor and eventually would direct an organisation which daily worked at empowering those who are  living in the most desperate of circumstances to help themselves.

Hannah Szenes once wrote “Blessed is the match consumed in kindling flame”.

For me Frances Bennett was a match.  By her generosity of spirit and tender grace she kindled in me the belief that all things are possible. She awakened in me the notion that I truly could make a difference in this world.  Her life was one of prayerful humility and vibrant joy at the gift of each new day.

Gogo Frances (as they call her in Swaziland – Gogo meaning grandmother) was my hero and my friend.

She changed the world with her love.

Maithri.