Blog Archives - FordeFables

December 31st, 2016.

31/12/2016

Thought for today:
"Forgive my late post today but I was coughing and bringing up phlegm all night. I will be alright with my breathing once I am sitting down in front of my laptop. I seem to forget about my illnesses when my mind is fully active and I am writing or composing a story. I really enjoyed the film about the Brontes last night. My deepest sympathies go out to my facebook friend, Patricia Howie from Batley, who has had a far worse week than myself. After having a mastectomy on Wednesday, her husband Phillip waited until his dear wife came home from the hospital before passing away. My prayers are with you, Patricia and your family in this time of loss.

Probably more than any other night of the year, New Year's Eve is meant to be spent with someone you love. On those occasions when that cannot be so, the night seems to take on a significance which is undoubtedly proportionate to your feelings of sadness, unfulfilled dreams or misspent emotions.

Such feelings of sadness are only possible when you make your entire happiness dependent upon the presence of another in your life; when you feel less of a whole person without the other half of the soul mate you crave. It is unwise to build the foundation of your present and continued happiness upon the presence of another, and yet we have been or are all guilty of this from time to time.

Was I to record some of the saddest nights in my life, top of the list would be New Year's Eve. However sad it may be to miss the presence of someone you love who died, believe me, that it is just as sad finding oneself married to a husband or wife who has stopped loving you, and to whom you still remained emotionally attached. On such occasions, when those New Year bells ring out, it is easy to focus on everyone else out partying with their loving partners and having the time of their lives while you are at home twiddling your thumbs in quiet and angry resentment.

I used to go dancing every New Year's Eve, but since my restriction in mobility over the past few years, Sheila and I are happy to spend it at home in front of a warm fire, with a drink, a box of chocolates and a Scrabble board to hand. If this sounds a bit sad to any of you, believe me when I tell you that we wouldn't have it any other way; we couldn't be happier or have it any better. Happy New Year's Eve." December 31st, 2016.

December 30th, 2016.

30/12/2016

Thought for today:
"Having spent most of Christmas in the hospital, my conversation has been restricted to the interests of the men in the bed beside me, especially the ward I was on during Day Two of my Christmas confinement (having been moved to three different wards in three days). It's strange what personal things a person will tell you if they are very ill and you are a good listener. Day two was largely spent listening to the history of my next door bed mate in-between having one test or another performed on me.

My bed mate, Ken, spent over six hours of my day telling me about his masculine exploits and extramarital experiences when he worked as an insurance man. He told his tale with a sense of macho pride without any hint of shame for the heartache he had caused his unfortunate playmates and their families. I think he was expecting a pat on the back, but after a few hours of his boasting, I told him that he hadn't done anything of which to be proud of and I indicated that he was someone who one my sons would describe as 'a knob head!'

His conversation got me thinking about the other side of the coin which Ken and his type never give their concern to; the other woman being played. Being played as a second fiddle is such a demeaning position to find oneself in. For a variety of reasons, it is not uncommon for many a person to find themselves playing the role as 'second best' in the life of another, especially when one of the couple loves the other person, but they are merely being strung along and used as a convenience by their playmate.

I once had a female friend who'd started a relationship with a married man from the office where she worked. This man had been married for seven years and had three children under the age of five years. Their relationship rapidly turned into an affair and then for the following twelve years, my friend Barbara became no more than the 'other woman' in his life, the proverbial 'bit on the side' that was available whenever he fancied it. During the whole of this twelve-year relationship, there were repeated promises by the married man to divorce his wife and to marry Barbara. When after two or three years had passed and his promises hadn't materialised, he then promised Barbara that he'd leave when his children entered their teens and High School. Then, telling his wife was postponed until the children approached the age of going to work/university. Needless to say, that when this landmark arrived, he still had no intention of leaving his wife.

The thing about this relationship which puzzled me was why Barbara had been prepared to be strung along for over twelve years by a man who had never seen her outside his twice weekly visits to her house for sex? Not once had he taken her for a drink or a walk in the park, just in case someone saw them and told his wife. Not once did she see him at Christmas and other family times, although he would always make a point of visiting her on her birthday, but never his. I cannot count the number of times I advised Barbara to dump this waster and to get on with her life. Sometimes she seemed prepared to consider it but always backed out at the last moment. It was as though Barbara never understood the rules of affairs; that most women are prepared to play at sex to get love and the vast majority of men play at love to get sex!

Over the twelve years of this demoralising relationship, I saw Barbara change for the worse; from someone with a bubbly personality and cheerful disposition to permanent depressive. Not only had this man taken a large part of her life from her, he'd also robbed her of any self-respect she ever had. He had literally placed her future on hold for over twelve years! And the reason, Barbara never ended the relationship and cut her losses was as old as the hills. Though he undoubtedly thought very little of her, she 'loved him' to bits. Poor Barbara. She knew that love warmed the heart but never contemplated when she started their illicit relationship, that a long-term affair was capable of burning down the house and bringing her whole world crashing around her.

The last time I saw Barbara around 1990, she was no longer seeing her married lover; not because she had finally got the gumption to dump him, but because he had died. I'd like to say that Barbara looked better for not seeing him, but in truth, she looked an emotional wreck. Naturally, she was unable to attend his funeral, but that did not stop her finding out where he was buried and visiting his grave whenever she is near the area of Edgerton Cemetery in Huddersfield.

I have known so many people who have never been able to negotiate their way out of, or beyond a failed relationship. The most striking comment that Barbara once said to me was, 'My love for him is so strong that nobody could kill it; not even him!' Until I knew Barbara and of her long-term relationship with the married man, along with the visiting of his grave after his death, I never really understood how it was possible to lose someone who you never had.

The only way I can understand Barbara's situation is if I compare it with that of an addictive gambler. I guess she over-committed herself to the game at hand and emotionally invested everything she had. Each time the stakes got higher and her potential losses greater, she always risked one more roll of the dice. She just found herself unable to leave the table and remained hooked! Unfortunately, Barbara will not be the last person to hook themselves up to a loser. Neither will she be the only one to see the married man she loves and is having a long-term affair with, stay with his wife and children.

My own advice to all would be to steer clear from hopping into bed with any married man or woman; unless of course, it is your good self they are married to! And if that's the case, go for it and damn the consequences!" William Forde: December 30th, 2016.

December 26th, 2016.

26/12/2016

Thought for today:
"Yesterday was a strange day health wise. Even moving a few yards left me breathless. We are beginning to suspect that my pacemaker, which was due for exchange soon, has stopped working, which if true, would account for my overall symptoms. I will check myself into Airedale Hospital today if any department is working, as it's an extremely dangerous situation if my pacemaker has stopped working. It most certainly needs checking out. In short, I am presently lacking my usual bounce.

A self-evident truth which I learned long before I became an adult was that children need their bounce to keep healthy in mind and body. Children cannot bounce off the walls if you take away the walls that constrain them.

Being brought up in the 1950s and 60s in a large family with two parents who knew the enormous benefit that could be derived from stuffing their children's lungs with fresh air and lots of walking, I can never remember a time in my life when I was stuck in my bedroom, stuck in my house, experienced boredom or didn't want to be out and about. Not having money, didn't dictate our pleasure, so long as we were able to do 'as a family' the things we most liked to do. One of the most important things my father taught his children was to stretch our legs, and every Sunday afternoon, he and mum would walk us across the fields from Windybank Estate down to Brighouse Park, three milres away, where they would listen to the brass band while we played in the open air. A three-mile walk back home always made us enjoy our tea more, along with our sleep that night.

The most important thing my mother taught her children was how to stretch our minds with the many stories she told, and how to stretch our generosity beyond self, beyond immediate family and loved ones, to neighbours and friends.

Not having been brought up in a world with computers, laptops, cassette players, and all manner of games that are played in the solitary corner of one's bedroom prevented the stultification of our brains and enabled us to develop a healthy imagination. While there was always a child who might be overweight, such was the exception instead of the rule, and it certainly wasn't the current epidemic most of our children today experience through lack of physical exercise.

When I married and had a family of my own, I am pleased to say that my love of walking along the canal bank, in the nearby woods, and across the fields continued. For almost ten years as an access parent after my divorce, although I could only see my two children for four hours weekly, if it rained we stayed in and played games and if it was fine we went out and walked and walked. When my third and fourth child came along, never one weekend went by without a walk to nearby Hopton Woods, which William and Rebecca looked forward to. The most important aspect of these walks was not only the exercise but the opportunity it gave me and my children to talk about whatever they wanted to talk about during our journey!

Until five or six years ago, when my mobility lessened considerably, I would always meet up with all of my brothers and sisters and their spouses and children to go on a 'Boxing Day Family Walk', whatever the weather! This was a tradition which was started by my brother Peter twenty years earlier and which still carries on today; unfortunately without me.

As I have aged, my mobility has gradually worsened year upon year and I have moved from walking miles weekly to one of mere yards. In fact, because of my permanent ill health and blood cancer, my absence of any effective immune system attracts countless chest infections and bouts of pneumonia, and renders me housebound most days. In the year of 2016, I was obliged to spend ten of the past twelve months indoors.

Just because I can no longer walk my body, I now depend upon the literary substitute for walking my mind from story plot to story plot. I am so grateful of those many walks my parents took me on and which I too took my children, and I am even more grateful that I still possess the mental faculties to vividly recall them.

The old saying that 'The best things in life are free' is so true. So, stop being one of those 'stoppers in' while you have the mobility to walk yourself out and about and enjoy this wonderful world of nature that is on all our doorsteps. Even I intend to get out today; even if it's a trip to the emergency A&E department of our local hospital. Sheila and I wish you all a Happy Boxing Day." William Forde: 26th, 2016.

December 25th, 2016.

25/12/2016

Thought for today:
"I often think that one of life's greatest sadness's must be to wake up on Christmas morning and remember that you are not a child anymore. I have always loved Christmas time and always will, especially when it snows. I remember one Christmas Day when I was 9 years old and it started snowing heavily. There was simply no keeping me indoors. I went in the back garden and I made a snowman. After three hours of building, my 8-year-old sister Mary came outside and knocked it down. I was furious, so I knocked her down and then, we had a super tea.

As a Christian, Christmas is the day when the birth of Jesus Christ is celebrated in our household, and whether one is a believer or not, if Christmas is to mean anything of lasting substance, it should involve sharing with others and taking a promise of hope from the newborn star. Unless we make Christmas an occasion to share our love and blessings, all the snow that the heavens can send down will not make it white.

One of the most generous people I ever knew was my mother, who would give her last penny to any tramp and her precious time to anyone who needed it. She never gave less of herself than was asked for, or ever expected more from another than could be given. My mother gave her respect to everyone she met, not because they had earned it, but because she thought they deserved it. My mother would tell me, 'Billy, look to your heart for Christmas. You'll never find it under a tree.'

Christmas is the road home to your family, friends, neighbours, and your God. It is that special time of year when there is a natural wish to renew contact with all those people who mean so much to you. Sheila and I wish you all a merry Christmas. May happiness and generosity of spirit come to you all in abundance: and those, for whom this festive season still holds a tinge of sadness because of the loss of a dearly departed whose anniversary occurs around this time, may you find the strength to experience this special day in peaceful reflection and loving remembrance. My very first task before preparing today's post was to send birthday greetings to my facebook contacts whose birthday is today. What a wonderful day to be born. Merry Christmas all. Love and peace. Bill xxx" William Forde: December 25th, 2016

December 24th, 2016.

24/12/2016

Thought for today:
"Today is a good day. It is the day when the promise of a newborn star touches the heart and soul of every believer in Jesus, Mankind, Christmas and Life. It is wonderful that during such a season, even people who don't particularly like each other, are, for a few days at least, prepared to put their disputes and dislike to one side. If only every day could herald that extraordinary amount of good will and conciliation, the world would be a more peaceful place.

I spent part of yesterday at the hospital. I had three facial biopsies six weeks ago and was asked to return for the test results yesterday. I had been told earlier that skin cancer contracted by people with my terminal condition cannot be treated in 80 percent of occasions. The results were as favourable as they possibly could have been, given my blood cancer condition, and the skin cancer I have can be treated in the New year. This news was Christmas cheer to my ears and allows me to enter this festive season with the gratitude of a happy man.

This lunch time, Sheila and I am meeting up with my sisters, brothers and their families at a pub in Liversedge. This is an annual event that we all try to attend and even though one hour maximum in a crowded place is the maximum time recommended for me, it will be nice to meet up and exchange cards, presents and stories of old. When we meet up, most of the talk is about growing up together in the 50s and 60s, and the eccentricities of our parents and practices of the times.

The one thing about being both the oldest or youngest in a large family of siblings is that your experience of similar events shared means different things to each of you. For instance, being the eldest child of seven, when I went off to Canada at the age of 21 years, it was my mother's tears that I remember looking out of the frosty window as she waved 'goodbye', whereas, I didn't see the tears of my youngest sister, 7-year-old Susan, stood beside her, who was losing her big brother whom she might never see again. While I made a success of my life and took it in my stride, I often overlooked what it meant for my three other brothers to constantly be in my shadow. I don't care what others believe, but I know, as do my siblings, that it makes a great deal of difference where one is born within the family hierarchy. I also know that the three eldest children to my parents had a much different experience growing up than my four youngest siblings. Whereas me, Mary and Eileen grew up during the years when mum and dad still had much love and passion for each other, by the time that the two youngest were born, Michael and Susan, my parents' marital relationship had lost all its gloss and involved regular rows and disagreements. In some ways, it could be said that we grew up, not only in different times but in different families, to the same parents of changing dispositions.

When I wake up tomorrow, I won't need to look beneath the Christmas tree for my finest presents. They are Sheila, my loving wife and soul mate and my six brothers and sisters. When my mother lived, she often said, 'Billy, when your dad and me die, they'll be no money to share out, only bills, but we will leave you something precious, your brothers and sisters. Look after them and they'll look after you.' Mum was right. My siblings were the greatest inheritance they could ever have left me, along with the knowledge of being told every day of my growing years by mum that, 'I was loved'.

As I attend Midnight Mass with Sheila, I will try to hold on to this feeling of gratitude for the God who made me and the family I grew up with, my gratitude to my wife and soul mate, my gratitude for my good friends and neighbours, my gratitude of yet another Christmas reprieve I received yesterday from the hospital, and my eternal gratitude for being alive during this most holy of seasons. How wonderful it would be if only I was able to feel like I do about my brothers and sisters with every person I ever met; if only I could come to regard and treat all as brothers and sisters without a second thought! Merry Christmas everyone. May it be peaceful and filled with love and generosity. Bill x" December 24th, 2016.

December 23rd, 2016.

23/12/2016

Thought for today:
"Six weeks ago I attended the Yorkshire Clinic for three facial biopsies to determine if I had skin cancer and if I did, to find out if it is it treatable? Seemingly, the terminal blood condition I have makes me ten times more likely to get skin cancer and if I do, less than 80 percent of skin cancers are treatable. I was told to return on December 23rd for my results. With my condition being more complicated than the average biopsy, more tests than usual would need to be carried out, and the usual three-week wait for my results turned into six weeks.

Indeed, since I contracted cancer of the blood almost four years ago, much of my time spent inside the house has been spent waiting to get rid of one chest infection before another arrived, and when I went outside the house, it was mostly spent waiting in hospital wards and doctors surgeries for blood transfusions, hormone injections and numerous other biopsies, cat scans, x-rays and cancer tests.

As I set off to the clinic this afternoon with Sheila, I wonder how much time in one's life is lost by 'waiting'. I have always believed that people who wait for ages for the storm to appear rarely catch the sunshine.

When we are young children wanting to be adults, we anxiously stand upon the stage behind the curtain, waiting for it to be raised and for the play to begin. During our middle years, when we are often at our best, all we want is for the play to go on and the adulation of others never to cease. Then, when we get too old to play the part of Hamlet and Polonius is the only suitable role left for us, we want the play to never end and the final curtain not to come down.

I remember as a growing child eagerly waiting to grow up and become a long distance lorry driver.The attraction of this job at the time was that I knew long distance lorry drivers only drove for half of their daily shift and spent the other half making roadside cafe stops hourly to devour big bacon butties! (now you know why all long distance lorry drivers are never thin). Then, after I experienced my first kiss from a girlfriend at the age of nine, I couldn't wait to grow up and get married and have children of my own. Although I waited until I was 26 years old before I married, even though I told myself that I was ready for settling down then, with hindsight, it might have been a wiser choice had I been prepared to wait a bit longer for the next bus to come along, so that we could at least have travelled in the same direction.

A lifetime of waiting continued as I watched my children and my ambitions in my professional life grow. I couldn't wait to see my children pass their significant landmarks; starting school, being in their first school concert, running in the school sports day race, leaving school and starting university, then, getting married and having a family. As I grew older, I even started to look forward to the day when I'd have the mortgage paid off and be able to enjoy a comfortable pension and a relaxing retirement.

Unfortunately, as I spent most of my lifetime waiting for this or that to happen, life just carried on and did not wait for me. By the time I had caught up with life again and had taken stock, I found myself in my 70s with a terminal illness. Since that time, three years ago, I have finally stopped waiting. Once I stopped waiting for this or that, the strangest thing happened. Stopping waiting has made me a much happier person than I've ever been, especially since I married Sheila. I find myself a more accepting person who has been happy to take each day as a bonus whenever it has arrived, along with whatever it has brought. I only wish that I'd been blessed with such insight all those years ago.

Often, being prepared to live a good life implies being prepared to wait. The greatest oak in the forest would never have reached as far into the sky as it does without having once been a nut who was prepared to stand its ground and allow things around it to naturally happen. The best things are always worth waiting for!" William Forde: December 23rd, 2016.

December 22nd, 2016.

22/12/2016

Thought for today:
"It is an inescapable truth, that wisdom begins in wonder. Once a child learns to believe in themselves, they develop the confidence to challenge their curiosity by bringing it into play, and by so doing, they discover a world where everything is possible, so long as they imagine it so. Only the thoughts and feelings of an awestruck child can ever fully experience the wonder of Christmas, and fuse into a single purpose, the sky above and the earth below, and the sandwich of nuture and nature in-between.

Adults frequently think of Father Christmas as being some old bearded bloke from a mythical place who rides the sky every Christmas Eve to deliver presents to children in every household of the land, but to the mind of a child, Santa is much more.

To the innocent child who refuses to advance to an older world until it is absolutely necessary, Santa represents the magic and mystery .of Christmas.They know that in his large sack, he just doesn't carry their special toy, but the sack contains other presents, far more precious for the child to have into the New Year: presents like hope and imagination wrapped in bubbles of adventure.

When I first started to write books for children and the late Dame Catherine Cookson and her husband, Tom, wanted to give the children of the nation a gift on one of their wedding anniversaries, the then 'Schools' Inspector for Ofsted', the late Chris Woodhead, directed them towards my work. Chris had read two of my books to school assemblies and he once described my writing in a press interview as being of 'high-quality literature'.

The upshot was that Catherine Cookson phoned me and asked if she and her husband Tom, could pay for a limited publication of a children's book of mine and allow the sale proceeds to go to charity. Dame Catherine liked my twelve 'Action Annie' stories so much (which Brigid Forsyth; Thelma of 'The Likely Lads' television fame) had broadcasted for school radio transmission, that she and her husband decided to go ahead with the project. The 'Action Annie' stories deal with seasonal topics in the life of a child, and Annie is a young girl who never gives up whenever she wants something.

Before I published the 'Action Annie Omnibus' of twelve seasonal stories (suitable for the 5-9 year old reader), I introduced the project to the public by having the first story in the book published on its own at Christmas time. That storybook was 'Annie's Christmas Surprise'. One unanswered question which had puzzled me since childhood and which has puzzled every child since time began was, 'If Father Christmas loves all children equally, why does he always give the biggest, best and most expensive presents to the children of the wealthiest parents and the smallest and cheapest presents to the children of poorer households?'

After discovering the answer, I made it the theme for 'Annie's Christmas Surprise' which can be found in the 'Action Annie Omnibus'. This book can be purchased from www.lulu.com and www.amazon.com It can also be obtained in e-book format 'for free' from www.smashwords.com. The free e-book version of the first story in the omnibus is my way of thanking my dear friend Catherine and her husband Tom, whom I was in contact with three weeks before her death. " William Forde: December 22nd, 2016.

December 21st, 2016.

21/12/2016

Thought for today:
"When I was growing up in the 50's, 'sexism' was simply an unnamed everyday activity that most males considered to be a normal way of life and most women were prepared to tolerate. What jobs there were to be had outside the home were generally filled by men, as were most of the seats occupied by serving Members of Parliament, along with the heads of most businesses and professions. When the average wife held a job outside the home, it was usually part-time and was performed to get some 'pin money' (A yorkshire term for money that the husband won't give his wife for essentials or little extras).

In those days, everyone knew their place, especially the women. Even the children in First School knew the natural order of things: girls aspired to become secretaries, bus conductresses, hairdressers, teachers, nurses and air stewardesses, whereas boys could dream of being train drivers, firemen, miners, doctors, air pilots, headmasters and blacksmiths etc.

This general attitude prevailed until the late sixties when the 'Women's Liberation Movement' which was a loose arrangement of feminist thinking, began to emerge and persisted throughout the 70's.

Many things are responsible for advancing the rights of women throughout the past fifty years including, the birth control pill which gave them power back over their own bodies, along with all aspects that went to increase their equality alongside men in both the work place and the home. In 2010, 'The Equality Act' essentially codified (cleaned up and made more orderly), the complicated array of acts and regulations which formed the basis of anti-discrimination law in great Britain. These were primarily the 'Equal Pay Act' of 1970, the 'Sex Discrimination Act' of 1975, the 'Race Relations Act' of 1976 and the 'Disability Discrimination Act' of 1995.

For a number of years into the New Millennium, one heard about some women who were breaking into certain jobs which had traditionally been held by men. One of the chaps I knew was a house husband and his wife was a lorry driver, and I even heard of a young woman in the Rochdale area who had decided to take over the role of neighbourhood Smithy after her father had died in the job. I was also told that if anyone thought that the female blacksmith from Rochdale was a member of the overweight feminist brigade, they should think again, as she was one of the Rochdale beauties who refused to be branded by any man, or have a dress code imposed on her at work, or get hot and bothered at her daily job.

The sad thing about all of the changes in the roles of the sexes during the past century is that the most important role of any man or woman, that of being a father or mother, is now harder to perform by the average couple in society. Many young couples simply cannot afford to have children today and provide for their upkeep because of the uncertainty of the economic times of austerity. There are no more 'jobs for life' and a worker is just as likely to get their redundancy notice at the end of the year instead of a raise in their wages like they could once look forward to. People are getting married later in life, getting on the housing ladder later than ever before, and having their 'child' when they approach their 40's. Only the couples who depend upon the welfare state can even contemplate having more than one child!

I recall when I was doing a course at Manchester University during the 1970's of being told of a panel beater attempting to knock out a dent in a sheet of metal. Whenever he succeeded in knocking out one dent, up it would come in another place on the metal sheet. This is essentially how I view the 'advancement' of equal rights between the sexes over the past half century. Whenever women have seemed to advance with regard to one thing, the female has lost out in respect to something else, just as important. In fact, unless one is prepared to live the life of a feckless mother who is dependent on the welfare state for everything she and her fourteen children by different fathers need, a woman has to come into a large inheritance, or have access to a great deal of money or a very rich partner in order to afford to become a mum of two today. If this is considered to be 'progress', all I can say is show me where!" William Forde: December 21st, 2016.

https://youtu.be/hms_GdvOKZY

December 20th, 2016.

20/12/2016

Thought for today:

"At the end of the day, a couple can only look back on what they had in their relationship. When all of the water has been drained from the cooking pot of life, it is pointless looking for something in the bottom of the pot that was never there in the first place. A love that has lasted a full lifetime of marriage is a love that never dies. Even when the couple lies together beneath the ground, the love they gave to one another in life continues to be given to others as their offspring and family pass it around in their name.

There are many stages in the development of love, like the throes of passion in young love to those warm feelings of gentle pleasure and satisfying companionship in a more mature love. Whether loving couples be young or old, the process remains the same. Love is the condition which your happiness cannot be untangled from the happiness of another. Just as their happiness is essential to yours, so it is with theirs.

I always find it a bit strange whenever I hear of any person who proclaims not to have found love in their life. Love is the only possible answer to our existence.We all come from love; indeed we are created as the very embodiment of love. Hence there is no reason ever to search for it beyond oneself. Love exists within us all, just waiting to be expressed.

I have never understood the sensible approach to love, as its very definition defies all logic. When love hits, it is like a collision of emotions; it is an ocean of ambitious dreams that never before seemed possible when you were on your own. You soon start to understand that being in love has absolutely nothing to do with reason and everything to do with your strength of feelings. I suspect that people who try to be sensible about love are either incapable of it or will never fully experience it. Love is a maze of mixed emotions; it is a mantra of madness where the couple in love cannot hear 'I love you' spoken too many times. It is a poetry of the senses that makes no rhyme or reason to the onlooker and even less to the person in love.

I have always been an old romantic, even from the early years of my teens, and if I am truthful, I would have to admit that I like being in love. Indeed, I'd even go so far as to say that I need to be in love. I need to be in love with life, and with someone special who's smile alone is sufficient to make this world of love turn upon its axis. In fact, I'd have to say that I have never felt more alive than those times in life when I have been in love; never felt so willingly lost. I knew that I was lost in love when I sensed there was no return. I immediately decided that even if there was, I wouldn't want to find my way back.

So you lovers of old, who still love your partner today, or perhaps even more than ever before, as you enter the twilight period of your lives, hold on tight to each other and learn to treasure each precious moment remaining. For when your loving partner is taken out to sea, leaving you alone on the shore; when your sun has set, no amount of church candles or photo albums will ever replace that warm glow of their daily presence in your life. Then, only fond memories of the sand between one's toes will remain." William Forde: December 20th, 2016.

December 19th, 2016.

19/12/2016

Thought for today:
"I was recently in a shop in Brighouse looking at birthday cards and a young woman tapped me on the shoulder and said, 'Is it Bill Forde, the 'Sleezy Fox' man?' I would like to say that I was able to put a face to her, but I wasn't. It turned out that she was a pupil at Lindley Junior School in Huddersfield during the early 1990's (The photo is of one of my visits to Lindley Junior School in the 1990's). In those days, I used to read in school assemblies throughout Yorkshire around five times weekly, and when I retired from my job as a Probation Officer in 1995, it was usually twice daily (over 2000 assembly readings between 1990-2005).

One of the strange things about being a regular visitor to any school is that you grow with it. I recall reading to children at 'Battyeford First School' in Mirfield when I first started writing children's books. At the time, The late Princess Diana had contacted me and requested that I send her copies of my books 'Douglas the Dragon' and 'Sleezy the Fox' for her to read to her 9 and 7-year-old sons at their bedtime, Princes William and Harry. Over 860 famous names read my books in Yorkshire schools between 1990-2003; including the Queen's cousin, the Earl of Harewood and the Countess (they read from my books on four occasions). It was the late Earl who recommended my books as being suitable for the young Princes William and Harry to Princess Diana. It is a gratifying feeling for any author to know that their book has been read to a future King of England by a Princess.

Following her royal endorsement of my stories about the dragon and the fox, the books sold like hot cakes throughout Yorkshire schools. There were approximately over 100,000 copies sold in Yorkshire schools alone; faster than we could print them, and with all profits from their sales going to charity.

Three years ago, Prince George was born to Prince William, Duke of Cambridge, and Catherine, Duchess of Cambridge. One year ago, the royal couple parented their daughter, Princess Charlotte of Cambridge. I felt it would be remiss not to send the Prince and Duchess of Cambridgeshire a copy of the two books that Princess Diana used to read to her children William and Harry when they were young. One year ago, the wheel of life also turned full circle regarding my readings of 'Sleezy the Fox' in Yorkshire schools.

When I last read to an assembly of children at 'Battyeford First School', sitting in the front row at the time was my daughter Rebecca and her best friend, Karen. Were I to walk into 'Battyeford First School' today, I would be able to see Karen's two sons sitting a few rows back. Were I to walk into Karen's house this teatime, sitting opposite her at the table, I'd see my son Adam. He and Karen have been an item for the past year now.

When I first wrote 'Sleezy the Fox', the book was dedicated to my sons James and Adam. Anyone wanting to hear the four fox stories or the four dragon stories for free can access these stories which are professionally read, from my website by following the links below. The stories are suitable for being 'read to' 5-7-year olds or being 'read by' 7-11-year olds:

http://www.fordefables.co.uk/douglas-the-dragon.html
http://www.fordefables.co.uk/sleezy-the-fox.html

Or alternately, the stories can be bought in e-book format from www.smashwords.com or in hard copy from www.lulu.com and www.amazon.co.uk with all profits from their sales going to charity."William Forde: December 19th, 2016.

December 18th, 2016.

18/12/2016

There is no hurt that strikes so deep or wounds so badly as the sight of a child witnessing the sudden, wholly unexpected and tragic death of a parent. The only response their little bodies are able to come up with is to close their eyes and scream and scream and scream out the horror that has afflicted their lives.

How can their little bodies and disturbed minds bear such trauma without future emotional scars? How impossible it must be for them to shift from one minute to the next in their cradle of innocent thought; from believing in Santa and the Tooth Fairy and knowing that their toys will speak to them when adults aren't present, to a future world where they cannot believe in anything ever again or give their trust to the future!

Whom among us could possibly witness such a scene of human carnage and not feel moved to compassion for the feelings of a wounded child; wherever they live! Hold on to those feelings inside your body a moment. Now, change the scene from the tragic accident on a country road, and instead, view the collapsed city of Aleppo in Syria where tens and hundreds of thousands of parents lay dead and their orphaned children grieve their loss as they watch on.

What we are witnessing in Syria today is one of the greatest humanitarian crises of the 21st century. The daily slaughter in Aleppo is happening before our eyes. The children under the rubble, their screams, their terror are seen on our television screens every day. We cannot claim we do not know! Surely, it cannot be that we do not care! Diplomacy has failed, the United Nations is being ignored, and much of the compassion coming from the West is hypocritical!

The United Kingdom should not sit on the sidelines any longer. We should do something; we should do anything to help protect the children of Aleppo from such cruel and unnecessary suffering!

What we should not have done, yet still continue to do, was to sell some of the very arms and military weapons to the Syrian government that they used against their own people in what can only be described as a war crime (£3.3 Billion worth of arms sold to Syria by Great Britain during the past four years, to wage war against their own people!).

This is not a tragic accident, it is far more; it is no less than a human obscenity! I ask you, where is the logical, moral or economic reason, when the British Government has sought to earn £3.3 Billion from Syria over the past four years selling them weapons and arms to kill their own people, while over the same period, we have chosen to give £50 Billion globally as our Foreign Aid contribution (often to corrupt governments and fraudulent causes). This is politically no more than mere posturing on the global stage of vanity just so we can beat our chest and tell the world 'Look how well Great Britain is doing!'"

I love this country, but I often despair of its sickening hypocrisy in its wider dealings with the world for the sake of money, vanity and political prestige." William Forde: December 18th, 2016.

December 17th, 2016.

17/12/2016

Thought for today:
"Every day of life is worthy of one's celebration and when a lovely couple like my Facebook friends, Tom and Ann Rhodes, wake up today to mark their 50th year of married life today, they deserve no less than the biggest Cleckheaton cheer their family, friends, and neighbours can give them.

There is a sanctity in every marriage meeting half a century, especially when today, the very first dispute between man and wife is often seen as grounds for divorce. There are many like myself, who have been married more than once, and yet, each time we wed, and the vows 'Until death us do part' were spoken, those sacred words were genuinely meant. For one reason or another, we felt unable to keep our marriage vows, and that is all the more reason that when we come across a loving couple who has kept them for fifty years, marriage continues to be a cause for celebration.

It is impossible to separate your love for each other from the love you feel towards your children and grandchildren. Marriage and children always went together for you two love birds and fifty years of marriage has meant having the pleasure of many grandchildren as the photo shows. Because of your enduring love, Tom and Ann, the world knows that truth, faithfulness and lasting love does exist. It is my dearest wish that you keep these beliefs alive as you continue to cherish one another in a family embrace that will never be broken, in the full knowledge that though the aspect of your love may change, never will its eternal presence.

I have always believed that true love does not happen by happy accident. It is deliberate, it's intentional, it is by heavenly design, and it is purposeful! And in the end, when all of the water has drained from the cooking pot of life, it's well worth it! I don't know how you two love birds first met, but whether it was under the romantic lights on a dance hall as you waltzed to the last dance, or on the back seat of a double-decker bus when you rang each other's bell for the first time, it doesn't matter. However you met, it was obviously meant to be and even if you bumped into each other on the High Street one cold afternoon and you fell for the first man you met in uniform, Ann, I'm sure that the collision was heaven sent.

Have a very happy Golden Anniversary, Tom and Ann, and my wish for you both is that you enjoy the next anniversary, and the next, and the one after that. Lots of love from Sheila and I, and fifty kisses in celebration of your golden day.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx" William Forde: December 17th, 2016.

December 16th, 2015.

16/12/2016

Thought for today:
"The best sleeping partner and soul mate to shack up with is undoubtedly the one who knows all your good points and helps you wear them graciously. They are a person who can bear all of your weakest traits and never use them against you in argument.

Yesterday was the 6th anniversary of the first time Sheila and I met. If I recall correctly, the very first words Sheila spoke to me when we first met on the cobbled streets of Haworth one cold afternoon on November 15th, 2010 were, 'I don't usually talk to strangers, but I have this feeling we've met before, if not in this life, then a past one?'

'That's very strange' said I in reply, 'so have I.'

And with these words spoken, we fell in love, right there on the spot and sealed our contract of never-ending endearment with a kiss and a cuddle and a coffee in Gascoigne's on the Main Street. Or at least, that is how I choose to remember it!

I was a young boy when I first learned to stretch the truth. I quickly learned that people are more inclined to listen to what you say, and believe you when you coat your words in the type of garments they would love to wear. Because all people deep down want to believe that magic exists, I usually find that if I can tap into their imagination and then, give them a wand of love, they'll wave it in whichever direction you signal. Because all of us deep down would love to fall in love with the partner of their dreams like I described above, we are more prepared to suspend our reasoning when our senses are touched, our hearts stirred and we start to dream our dream.

The simple truth is that when Sheila and I first met in Haworth that cold December day, our meeting was less by chance and more by arrangement. In fact, neither of us was physically attracted to the other at first sight to make either hope for further advancement. For me, Sheila, who then wore her hair very short, looked too severe to be taken too seriously by me, and the 14 years difference in our ages undoubtedly made her think more than twice about a second meeting. We spoke for about an hour before we parted, yet I'd been home less than an hour before I started to realise that I had met someone very loving and special that afternoon. Fortunately for me, Sheila had also been plagued with similar thoughts. The second time we met, I looked at Sheila with different eyes and saw beneath her extremely short-cut hair, a natural beauty of face which the Mona Lisa could never hope to compare with and a purity of heart to match that of any angel. Within two weeks we had communicated dozens of times by e-mail and phone calls, and by Christmas Eve, we had met three times. We both knew we were in love as we attended Midnight Mass together at St Anne's Catholic Church in Keighley in 2010. And as they say, the rest is history.

Since that fateful day we first met, every day has been a special day, and even when we are apart, our souls never lose touch. Whoever said that love and strangers never meet face to face have never been to Haworth with an open heart on a cold December day. It is a wondrous place to be at Christmas time where a Heathcliff can be found around every corner and a Catherine can always be found walking the cobbles, looking for a lifelong mate." William Forde: December 16th,2016.

December 15th, 2016

15/12/2016

Thought for today:
"Between the ages of 11-14 years, I incurred a serious accident that left me hospitalised for nine months with life-threatening injuries. A part of my critical condition included a spinal injury that left me unable to walk for three years, with the prospect of never walking again. After my accident, I found myself with a new bedmate that stayed with me for the next ten years. Until my early twenties, 'Anger' and I walked hand in hand. It was therefore with no great surprise that in my later years, I became one of the country's leading authorities upon 'anger,' and it was this interest in the subject and my later research into anger responses and patterns of aggressive behaviour that led me to found 'Anger Management' in the early 1970's. I gave the 'Anger Management' process to Europe, and within two years, 'Anger Management Groups' had mushroomed across the English-speaking world.

'Anger' cannot be defined as either 'good' or 'bad'; it is how it is used that matters. Anger is an energy force which can be directed towards achievement or destruction. Fifteen years of research led me to discover Relaxation and any meditation process as representing the best platform from which to direct one's anger beneficially and transform it into constructive energy. I also learned during this period that from the three main emotional responses of anger, fear and the feeling of being unloved, 'anger' is the most potent feeling which is capable of producing emotional disturbance if not appropriately expressed. It is also the greatest determinant that both blocks or advances a change of behaviour. As such, the unhealthy maintenance of repressed anger will anchor us to the past, while the healthy expression of one's anger can propel one into a happier and more hopeful future.

Prime among my research findings was that in order to get the unproductive anger out of one's body, one needs to put love in! I also learned that in order to 'productively repress' high levels of anger, one needs to 'appropriately express' one's fears, and in order to 'productively repress' one's high fear levels, one needs to 'appropriately express' one's anger. These few findings essentially represent the core of my research conclusions over 25 years and acted as the base for all my work in assessing response patterns and changing unwanted behaviour.

In simplified terms, the expression of too much anger can lead a person to 'explode' and harm others, whereas the repression of too much anger will lead to 'implosion' and self-harm. Anger can be used to incite one into an action they might not otherwise take or be applied as a weapon of destruction to prevent somebody doing what they want to do. The release of anger by people who were abused can free the repressed hurt and liberate the person to move on with their life, instead of feeding off the permanent regret of what happened and maintaining feelings of 'victimisation'. Many therapy processes that seek to heal, include teaching people to stand up for themselves, voice their injustices, speak out their wants and beliefs, and to even shout to the world, the specific wrongs that have been committed against them.

In my life as a Probation Officer, I have seen 'unhealthily repressed' and 'inappropriately expressed' anger do all manner of harm. I have seen it hurt, maim and kill, as well as lead another towards self-harm and suicide. Anger never exists without a reason, although it may not always be a good intention that drives it to the forefront of one's thoughts. Some married people swear by the merits of the occasional good row to clear the air and I know many who only learned of certain truths when they were spoken in the heat of anger. My own late mother used to say after I'd first married, 'Billy, never go to bed angry. It is far better to stay up and fight until the air is cleared.'

I would like all parents and readers of today's post to take two things away with them from it. First, I would like all to acknowledge that 'I make myself angry; me and nobody else!' Secondly, please note the long-term harm that an angry parent can have when they shout in the face of a little child. Believe me when I tell you that if a parent deliberately tried to produce maximum hurt of their child, it would be kinder to break their arms and legs than to shout aggressively in their little face; as the former will mend in several months, whilst the latter can live with the person for a lifetime!

I recall the late Irish comedian, Dave Allen, who used to highlight the sketch where an admiring adult seeing an infant in a pram, would poke their giant face to within inches of the infant before loudly saying 'Coochy, coochy, coochy!' Naturally, the infant would burst into tears upon seeing a loud face staring down the barrel of theirs!

Take it from me that an angry parent shouting and screaming angrily at a child, highlights a situation of long-term harm being done to that child. When an adult shouts or screams at a child, the child's instant reaction is to seek to protect themselves from this monster before them that threatens their world of peace and quietness. Being fearful of what may follow, they assume a foetal position and curl up in a corner and close their eyes and ears to what comes next. Such behaviour stays locked in their little minds for years to come and unless healthily processed and dealt with, it can re-emerge and raise its ugly head, and even repeat itself with their own little children. Such negative childhood experiences, however, is more likely to produce a very non-assertive adult, someone lacking in confidence who avoids all manner of conflict and social interaction; an acutely reserved person who never feels able to manage their own feelings, but instead appears content to remain a servant to the needs of others at the expense of denying their own needs.

If you have difficulty in 'shouting out your anger', try 'speaking it softly'. One of the things about the human mind and body is that it is physiologically impossible to entertain two opposing forces at the same time. The body can be relaxed or tense, it can whisper or shout, stand or sit, smile or frown; but it cannot do both opposites together! It is physiologically impossible. That is why I always taught my group members that the best way to stop oneself doing one thing in any situations was to teach oneself to do the opposite! And because it is physiologically impossible to speak about what angers you in a soft voice and be aggressive as you do so, I have always chosen to de-escalate anger through softly spoken words as opposed to loud ones.

So the next time you may be angry with a little child, express your anger softly and appropriately, and in a way that doesn't offend their little ears. Let them know by all means that it is their behaviour that you disapprove of and not them, and reassure them that however annoyed you are, you will always love them." William Forde December 15th, 2016.

https://youtu.be/BWD3GRgr02E

December 14th, 2016.

14/12/2016

Thought for today:
"Ever since I became the youngest textile shop steward in Great Britain in 1961 at the age of 18 years, I have always believed that just as behind every successful man stands a woman, similarly, behind every industrial giant who ever got their name in the history books, stands a workforce of little men and women, who, through their work and sweat, made it all happen!

History has a way of distorting reality and putting to the fore those men and women who achieved great things along the road of the advancement of civilisation, while only the footnotes give mention to the real heroes of the day behind the scenes that made it all possible, and without whom, the end would not have been achieved.

Any history student will be able to tell you the recorded achievements of men like Isambard Kingdom Brunel who was one of the most ingenious and prolific figures in the engineering history of the 19th century in Great Britain. Brunel oversaw the construction of the 'Thames Tunnel', the 'Great Western Railway', a series of steamships, and numerous important bridges and tunnels. He is perhaps best remembered for designing the 'Clifton Suspension Bridge' in Bristol. I doubt, however, if any student would know how many labourers and semi-skilled workers it took to build these projects and how many hundreds and thousands of men died in the process of their construction?

The same is true of all the skyscraper buildings in America. Whereas it's the designers and architects who are made famous, amass great wealth and achieve the prestige, it is the manual high-rise worker who risks life and limb daily, just to earn a modest living and put food on the family table.

There is a famous photograph of eleven high-rise workers in the U.S.A. having their morning break as they sit upon a girder of a skyscraper, thousands of feet above the ground. It is a sad irony that with a bit of modern-day research, I would be able to identify the precise location, the photographer, the year that the photograph was taken, the building concerned, the year of its completion, the name of its architect and its finished height. However hard I tried, though, nowhere would I be able to find the names of the eleven workers sitting on the girder having their morning break; the very men who risked their lives to earn themselves a modest livelihood and their employer a huge amount of wealth, fame, and prestige!

What does this really say about the world that we live in? That is why I love the bible saying in Matthew that 'the last will be first and the first will be last' in the eyes of God; and in my eyes too!" William Forde: December 14th, 2016.
https://youtu.be/baSUO3zjneA

December 13th, 2016.

13/12/2016

Thought for today:
'If only' by William Forde

"If only one could ration passion,
place on tap a willing heart.
Share out love much more fairly,
render heartbreak much more rarely.
If only!

If only we could season reason,
and let mankind love all year long.
They'd be no need for war or conquest,
instead of taking we could bequest.
If only!

If only soul mates could be dovetailed
curved at corners, joined as one,
live together, be together, die together,
holding hands throughout all weather.
If only!

If only we'd done all, and yet there still was more to do.
If only we'd seen all, and still our eyes enjoyed the view.
If only we'd felt all, and yet we still had more to feel,
If only the choice of life and death was ours to give or yield.
If only!

Copyright William Forde: December 13th, 2016.

December 12th, 2016.

12/12/2016

Thought for today:
"There are times in our lives when we feel that we should say something which isn't going to please another but finish up keeping our mouth closed instead. I learned very early on in adult life that when one is spontaneous with the expression of their thoughts and feelings, giving vent to them at the moment of their birth often runs the risk of causing offence.

I also think about the many important occasions in life when staying quiet against one's inclinations didn't work out for the best either! Just imagine the opportunity for a parent to positively change some aspect of their behaviour which unknowingly makes their child feel sad or unloved if only a partner, relative, friend or neighbour had felt confident enough to highlight this potential problem. Imagine the amount of hurt never felt by the child.

I once knew a child who was physically ill-treated by their parents and died as a consequence of this abuse. The man would constantly row and fight with his partner; during which their child would start crying and either the father or mother might finish up taking out their anger on the poor child. It was only after the 3-year-old child's death, and a full investigation was being held, that the next door neighbour 'then' reported that the couple rowed daily and that they constantly heard the child crying through the partitioned walls. They never once considered it was their duty to report the matter to the police or Social Services Department when the child lived, as they did not think it their place to interfere!

I knew a professional woman who was fast becoming an alcoholic. Initially, her family and friends seemed to overlook her pattern of having a glass of wine as soon as she arrived home nightly and simply put it down to the stress of her high-powered job and her need to wind down after a busy day at work. Consequently, because nobody felt confident enough to confront her with the nature of her drinking pattern, by the time she eventually accepted that she was alcoholic, her marriage had ended in divorce, she'd lost the custody of her two young children, along with a good job, and had also become a lifelong depressive. I'm not sure what long-term damage was done in her relationship with her children but feel reasonably sure that some irreparable harm had been caused.

I recall during my earlier years as a Probation Officer in Huddersfield, of a problem that I had and which I was wholly unaware of. This was a somewhat delicate problem born out of a genuine loving behaiour of mine and an emotional honesty that I displayed with family, friends and clients. It was during one of my supervisory sessions with my Senior Probation Officer, Wilf Batty, when he brought this behaviour of mine with my clients to my attention. Allow me to explain. It is not unusual in some situations; particularly where the professional worker is ascribed a favourable image by the person they are working with, that a transference of misplaced feelings occur and the worker is perceived by their client in a romantic light.nUnknowingly, in such circumstances, the client often sees the professional worker to be a powerful force in their lives and occasionally they become emotionally over-attached and 'fall in love' with them.

All experienced workers, being aware of this problem, are able to make adjustments to the worker/client relationship if it occurs and emotionally distance themselves, thereby re-establishing proper relationship boundaries in the professional/client relationship. Always having been a touchy feeling person of emotional warmth, who experienced no difficulty in expressing it, was to bring me into more potential danger in my earlier years as a young Probation Officer than most other colleagues faced. While I'd received no complaints from any female clients, often when they visited the Probation Office during my absence and were offered to be seen by other colleagues of mine, many refused outright. This clearly suggested that too many had become too closely attached to me and that I had unwittingly allowed a form of emotional overdependence to develop.

After considering the behavioural pattern identified by my Senior Probation Officer and my overall responses in some situations, I was eventually obliged to conclude that the overwhelming emotions being returned by both male and female clients of mine were ones of genuine love and affection, I had unknowingly allowed some professional boundaries to be crossed. And though there had never been any sexual impropriety involved in any of our relationships, I had to conclude that openly expressing love for another's well being, however innocent the intention, ran the risk of having some sexual intent attached to it. I was essentially advised to keep clearer boundaries in the future and maintain a more professional emotional distance from the client

I might add that this phenomenon is present in many professions such as teachers, doctors, priests; almost any profession where an imbalance of perceived power exists between the professional and the person they work with.

I cannot say that I ever was to alter the person I was, where openly expressing love and genuine concern was concerned, but I did discover that merely being aware of 'what might be happening' in the client's perception of our working relationship, was sufficient to ensure that I avoided all future obstacles and emotional traps that presented themselves.

My life as a Probation Officer, group worker and individual counsellor also taught me that 'keeping one's mouth shut' at the right moment can induce the other person to talk. Just think how many arguments might be prevented if we introduced a pause into the situation of ping pong insults being batted back and forth between protagonists.

The occasions when you should never keep your mouth closed is when someone else is abusing you or their actions are hurting you. Such is an occasion in life where staying quiet can never lead to an improved situation. Imagine how many relationships between men and women might have been given an extended life, if only one person had spoken up earlier about their feelings about this or that! Imagine how many bullied children might have received adult help sooner! The old wive's tale of 'counting to ten' before expressing your anger undoubtedly holds much merit in maintaining control of one's feelings and actions, but so does the modern saying of 'let it all out'; particularly where physical, mental or emotional abuse is being perpetrated against you!

I always remember being told that there is a time in life when it is right to submit and another when it is proper to resist; a time when silence is better in its observance, and a time when the only right thing to do is to speak out. " William Forde: December 12th, 2016.

December 11th 2016.

11/12/2016

Bronte Heaven' by William Forde

'I love to see grouse angels soar
across the heather of Haworth Moor.
Wet uplands growing sphagnum in its earth.
among purple moss ground, God gave birth
to all winged beauty and boggy ruggedness beneath,
this summer wonderland He did bequeath.

When summer brings the heavens down
and purples fill the grass all 'round
my every step I walk and breathe,
this surely is the land bequeathed
by God to Brontes and Haworth folk.'

Copyright William Forde: December 11th, 2016

December 10th, 2016.

10/12/2016

Thought for today:
"I have always believed that destiny marks each of us out for a special role in life which can often be more clearly viewed retrospectively after the role has been adopted. I am sure that we all know people who we consider born nurses, carers, teachers; almost any profession we are minded to think of. Equally, when we move our mind from profession to the dynamics of role within a family or social group, we will find, leaders, followers, gatekeepers, scapegoats, peace-makers, etc.etc.

The roles that we take on in life often determine the professions we choose to follow and are invariably shaped by our earlier experiences. I grew into my teenage years wanting to be a footballer, fireman, priest or surgeon and I eventually finished up a Probation Officer.

Having attended hundreds of different training groups in my life as well as having led hundreds, I was obliged to conclude that my role in life which I had naturally adopted was one of 'Rescuer.' Whether it be the footballer who rescues the masses from the tedium of life on a Saturday afternoon, or the surgeon who saves their life on the operating table, or the fireman who carries them to safety from their burning home, or the priest whose role is to save their souls from the flames of hell, or the probation officer who seeks to prevent them from being punished and imprisoned; all are undoubtedly acting in the role of 'Rescuer.'

Once a person has determined the role they adopt to play in life, their overwhelming action thereafter, is determined by this role. Most of the things that ever happened to them, along with all the things they've done, the types of people they chose to befriend or marry; all these aspects of life assumes a clarity that did not previously exist before one's purpose in life was eventually discovered.

From child to adult, I performed the role that destiny had decreed, and even after I'd retired from my regular work as a Probation Officer, my role in life didn't change; instead, it simply took on a new dimension. I still spend my days acting out the role of 'rescuer', but these days I tend to concentrate on saving people from their baser selves, their ill-health, their unhealthy fears, their lives of isolation and depression, and their negative cynicism and their boredom. Unlike the surgeon, I carry not a scalpel, but instead a bucket of hope. Unlike the fireman, I prefer to show people how to carry others than be carried themselves. Unlike the footballer, I am forever reminding people that while it is essential to have fun in our lives, we should never forget that playing by the rules of decency and basic humanity in all of our dealings with others, is much more than a game reserved for Saturday afternoons only! Unlike the priest, who, in an ever increasing world of non-believers, tries to bring God's gentle ways into people's lives by the front door, I prefer to adopt a different route of persuasion. Through illustration, example and cleverly crafted words, I let God slip in the back door of their lives unannounced. I want people to be able to taste the 'Power of Goodness and Love' without the need of pushing it down one's throat. Therefore, I believe that real change is more likely to appear acceptable and come about more by demonstration than moral diktat.

One of my major roles as 'rescuer' since 1989, has been that of an author; particularly, in the books I have written for the benefit of children and the story themes I have covered.Throughout my writing career, which has currently resulted in over sixty plus of my books being published, and which has raised over £200,000 for charitable causes through their sales, I always preferred to see myself in the role of 'a social crusader masquerading as a writer' as opposed to that of a budding children's author. I was never concerned with the primary objective of selling books over that of selling a way of life and an effective piece of advice to my young readership. That is why all of my story themes for children and young persons deal primarily with those situations in life that create emotional disturbance and difficulty in their healthy negotiation: themes like loss, separation, bereavement, bullying, discrimination, anger, jealousy, homelessness etc.etc. If adults find such situations extremely difficult to emotionally process, how much harder must children find them to cope with?

Since 2013, when I learned that I had a terminal illness, circumstances has afforded me the greatest of all opportunities in my role of 'rescuer' that destiny ordained.There are so many ill people in the world who find it hard to cope with pain and who fear death and in particular, the prospect of dying. If through my words and example, I am able to convey to just one person, that when one puts one's life in order, death is not a thing to be feared, I know my life will have served a purpose. If I am able to befriend a dying person on the last stage of their journey towards the next life and lessen their fear of isolation, so that they can enjoy whatever little life they have remaining, I will die a happier person. If I can show someone how best to live and die; if I can do all this, I then I know my life has not been in vain, and that my designated role has been of meaningful purpose and has struck a cord of contentment with self and others." William Forde: December 10th, 2016.

December 9th, 2016.

9/12/2016

Thought for today:
"Whenever life is lived to the full, it usually comes with a few surprises; usually nice ones, worthy of savour for future recall. It is strange how one thing often leads to another, especially in situations of the highly anticipated or when a lady says one thing while her mind may think another.

I once recall in my late teens before I went off to Canada for a few years, dating a young woman from Cleckheaton briefly. She was the only daughter of a Police Inspector, a fact itself, which proved sufficient to frighten many male suitors off; especially any who'd ever received a police caution.

One night when her parents were out for the evening, I called around to her house in Cleckheaton to collect her for a dance we were going to. When I saw her, she looked stunning, especially in a big flouncy hat she had the confidence to wear and the looks and carriage to carry it off. Initially, she had decided to go out to the dance in knee-high boots which were then the fashion rage, and carry some dancing shoes in her handbag to change into once we arrived at the event. In short, she was a young woman who was always prepared for any eventuality. She yelled out from upstairs and called for my assistance, as I waited downstairs for her. Her new boots were too tight and were pinching her toes and after she'd tried to change them for footwear more comfortable, she found that they were too tight to get off. She asked me to pull them off for her.

Little was I aware as I tugged at her long boots that graced her long lean legs that she was baiting a trap that she knew I'd willingly enter; at the very least, she was effectively tugging at my heart strings and testing my resolve. One thing led to another and another fine day in my life was rounded off nicely.

Needless to say that we never did manage to make the dance at 'Cleckheaton Town Hall' that Saturday night, but I'd have to confess that we both seemed to make out alright. I have often wondered what would have happened had I finished up on the wrong side of the law again, especially had her parents returned from their meal out sooner than anticipated? Would her father's sense of instant justice have let me off with another caution or might he have risked the forfeiture of his police pension and instead settled for nothing less than the fatherly retribution of a Cleckheaton castration?" William Forde: December 8th, 2016.

December 8th, 2016.

8/12/2016

Thought for today:
"When strangers meet, there is a natural curiosity which exists for the first few moments of introduction. When the meeting is between two soul mates that fate has brought together, life takes on a new sweetness that none can sour. When a man meets a creature and both show an instant interest in the other, a bond is formed that requires no words to bring forth understanding. We are reminded that all of our worldly wisdom sprang from wonder and awe and it is only when we look deep into nature that we start to understand all we need to know about ourselves.

Nature has always been mankind's best teacher. She unfolds her treasure to all who search out her ways. She teaches that man is not made up of himself only, and that all streams of knowledge flow to him from a thousand natural sources. Nature is all encompassing; she is the lay of the land, the ridge of its mountains, the reach of its valleys and the depth of its seas. All nature is part of a greater whole; one universal body. Nature is a natural reminder that we did not come into the world, but out of it like a shooting star from the heavens, a wave from the ocean, a grain of sand from the desert, and a speck of dust from the ground upon which we stand. Our very shape and form can be found within every shadow from the sun.

As William Shakespeare put it so succinctly, 'One touch of nature makes the whole world kin.' Enjoy your day and look out for God's little creatures on your journey, for they make this world a much better place to be and more interesting to know." William Forde: December 8th, 2016.

December 7th, 2016.

7/12/2016

Thought for today:
"As Christmas approaches, most of us will be preparing for the season's celebrations. The religious among us will be looking forward to the Birth of Christ being celebrated at Midnight Mass and Christmas morning service. Many love Christmas for other reasons, like the holiday it provides from work, the time it gives parents and grandparents to spend with their families and loved ones, along with everyone who simply loves partaking of the food and drink extravagances that come with Christmas; and not forgetting the presents to buy, wrap, give and receive. Yes! For the overwhelming majority of us, Christmas is a good time of the year to look forward to.

But what about those who don't like Christmas, can't stand it and indeed even hate the season? One would be surprised how many dread it coming around each year and can only breath again once it has been and gone!

If the spirit of Christmas is about giving, just as God gave the world His only son, then the ones who are left with memories of a Christmas that 'took away' their happiness instead of increasing it, will experience the season much differently than you or I. I refer primarily to people who lost a loved one who sadly died one Christmas time through illness, natural causes, tragic accident or criminal homicide.

I find it hard to imagine how one must feel if their strongest recollection of Christmas Day is an unhappy one. How sad it must be when their child, sibling, father, mother, husband, wife or lover died. I find it wholly unimaginable to place myself inside the shoes of another parent or spouse whose child or partner was murdered at Christmas time. When I was a Probation Officer, I never missed calling to see the mother of a boy who was killed one Christmas Eve after he'd stolen a car and was in a police chase that ended in a horrific crash and his death at the Birstall traffic lights. Every year I called to her home in Batley to wish her well. She still showed signs of loss in her eyes and across her face; even ten years after.

Christmas is that time of year when life for the New year is heralded by the promise of a newborn star. It is a time when the hardest of hearts can be softened, arguments put to one side and peace restored between two people who were once enemies and are now friends. To see Christmas represent hurt, hardship, loss and sadness, I find extremely hard to bear.

While none of us can bring back the loved one lost by another, the least we can do as friends and compassionate neighbours is not to forget that they will be alone with their thoughts and feelings this Christmas, even though others may be around them. Send them a card that tells them that you are aware of the loss they still must feel and let them know that your thoughts and prayers are with them.

Because I know how difficult Christmas can be, one year ago I wrote and published a romantic novel called, 'The woman who hated Christmas'. This book is available in e-book format from www.smashword.com or in paper/hard copy from www.lulu.com or amazon, with all profits from its sale going to charity. Should you be contemplating buying it as a present for some adult reader and you would like to read it for free first, you may do so by accessing it on my website below." William Forde: December 7th, 2016.
http://www.fordefables.co.uk/the-woman-who-hated-christmas.html

December 6th, 2016.

6/12/2016

Thought for today:
"Throughout our history, and particularly since Victorian times, England has always been a land of protest; from 'The Women's Suffrage Movement' at the turn of the 19th/20th century, when women fought for the vote, through to 'The Jarrow Crusade' in 1936, when 200 men marched from Jarrow to London against mass unemployment and extreme poverty in the north-east of England. Sometimes, our protests represented petitions from large sectors of the community in want, whereas, on occasions, huge numbers of protestors have agitated on behalf of one person's right and freedom. High in the list of the country's protests was the 'Free Nelson Mandela' rallies of the 1960's/70's onward. 'The Battle of Orgreave' in 1984, involved police and mining pickets entering into physical confrontation with each other during the prolonged and bitter miner's strike. This mass protest was to witness the end of mining as the viable industry this country had known for the past 150 years, and led to the destruction of entire northern communities, and produced many lifelong disputes between brother and brother, father and son, who'd found themselves on different sides of the argument. Then, there were the 'Poll Tax Riots' of 1990 which led to a reversal of Government policy, and before we had barely entered the second decade of the New Millennium, the country was divided in protest once more by the referendum to stay or leave the European Union.

Whether it be fighting for votes, jobs, freedom of the individual, the right to picket, or the right to control our own destiny as a nation once more, England has always been a country of protest!

Every person of conviction must decide upon the type of protest that suits their persuasion, but where we perceive a great wrong to exist, we should protest! It is only through protest that the human race stays true to its conscience and sense of 'fair play,' and is allowed to healthily develop. I spent a part of my early working life as Great Britain's youngest shop steward, followed by a greater part, lasting almost thirty years, teaching people to express their feelings; particularly the ones that hurt themselves and others. I soon discovered that helping them to alter behaviour and situations they wanted to change was very much a personal protest!

I recall the 'Civil Rights Movement' in America during the 1960's and the frequent and bitter beatings black citizens got for refusing to accept segregation, the right to eat in the restaurant of their choice, drink from the same water fountain as white folk, use the same public toilets, sit in the seat of a bus up front, or have their children educated in schools alongside white pupils. As Martin Luther King Jr used to tell his people, 'If you can't fly, run. If you can't run, then walk. If you can't walk, then crawl. But whatever you do, you have to keep moving forward.'

Like many of the great crusaders who have gone before, I share their view that one never knows what is worth living for until you are without it and are prepared to die for it!

As protests movements advanced from those of Victorian times to the present day, the marchers seemed prepared to use a greater degree of force in order to have their protest heard. As the youngest shop steward in Great Britain at the age of 18 years, in 1961, I have always known that it doesn't take a majority to prevail and that an irate and angry workforce and the tireless minority is capable of setting brush fires in people's minds to spur them into action. My trade union days effectively taught me that a downtrodden class or group of workers will never make an effective protest until it achieves 'solidarity of mind and purpose'. I will never forget the power of 'Solidarity' demonstrated during the Polish strikes of 1986 when Lech Walesa created the first, public, legal Solidarity entity. He went on to serve as President of Poland between 1990-95. He achieved this through worker solidarity of purpose, just as during the 'winter of discontent' in 1978/79, the solidarity of the workers led to massive strikes that seriously inconvenienced the public and led to the defeat of the Labour Government in the polls by Margaret Thatcher.

Thatcher quickly determined to quash the power of the miner's union, which could, at its height, effectively guarantee firm and effective picket lines and trade-union solidarity. This was effectively achieved after the 'Battle of Orgreave' was won by the police and the government, but only after the right to hold mass demonstrations had been prevented and trade union funds sequestered. The splitting of trade union solidarity, weakened the miners, led to their eventual defeat and started the ball rolling for the emasculation of all other trade union movements in Great Britain. Even today, the miners and their families were recently denied the right to have 'The Battle of Orgreave' reviewed as the football supporters of Hillsborough did achieve. One of the main reasons cited was that no policeman had been convicted for their part at Orgreave despite all of the visible evidence to the contrary which is a matter of public record.

I have only been on one protest march in the whole of my life and that was in the late 1960s when I marched through Bradford with many students on a 'Free Nelson Mandela' march. Although he'd been imprisoned by the apartheid South African government in 1964 and wasn't freed until February 1990, many people from many countries continued to support his case for release throughout.

It was one of my greatest of pleasures in later life to have received a phone call from the great man himself in 2000 through the Home Office when he wanted to tell me that he had read three of my stories in one of my books about South Africa and found each a 'wonderful story.' He certainly proved to be a man who was worth marching and protesting for, who along with Mahatma Gandhi and St. Teresa of Calcutta, undoubtedly represented the most influential beings of the 20th century.

Far better to protest as men than to sin through one's silence. Not to protest an injustice is to become an accomplice to the act. I suppose that the more privileged we become, the harder it is to remain close to the poor and identify with their injustices. While there remains a lower class in England, I chose to stay in it, and while one just man remains imprisoned, I cannot view myself as being free. Often, all we can do in life is to speak up against perceived injustice, cruelty and inhumanity." William Forde: December 6th, 2016.

The three stories of mine that Nelson Mandela liked are now printed in one book, the 'Afro-Indian Dreams Trilogy', which is available in e-book format from www.smashwords.com or in paper/hard copy from www.lulu.com or amazon and is suitable for either child or adult readership:
http://www.lulu.com/shop/william-forde/afro-indian-dreams-trilogy/paperback/product-22767122.html
with all profits from sales going to charity in perpetuity(over £200,000 since 1990).

December 5th, 2016.

5/12/2016

Thought for today:
"The tears of any orphan in a war-torn country are a stain upon the soul of humanity. It is the duty of every adult in the world to make the primary care of any orphaned child across the world their sacred responsibility. There is no greater onus placed on adults; no situation that takes precedence over that of safeguarding the world's children.There is no duty more important than ensuring that their rights are respected, their welfare is protected, their innocence preserved and that their lives remain free from fear and want. It is a basic requirement of all self-respect and is at the heart of primary purpose, that all children are able to grow up in peace.

If any of my Facebook friends who have prayed for my continued health since the diagnosis of my terminal illness three years ago would like to give me a Christmas present this December that I will treasure, it would be that for the entire month of December you give your first thought every day to your family and your second thought to the family of orphans all over the world.

I apologise for stirring consciences during this festive month leading up to Christmas, but I genuinely believe that when we turn our hearts and minds away from the orphans of war, we are effectively turning ourselves away from Christ's second greatest commandment; to love your neighbour as yourself.

Our child orphans represent an inescapable fact, that while life is undoubtedly good for many people in the world, for some, it is an experience to be endured from one day to the next. There is much that could be done, but isn't being done for those unfortunate children who cannot live it in peace. In countries like Syria, we are in the process of helping to create child victims out of collective adult impotence, which is just another word for 'inaction'.The United Nations appears helpless in the face of indiscriminate Russian/Syrian aggression.

We can talk all we want, but compassion without action is just observation. So, make your prayers your primary action for this month of December. Believe me, prayers are not without effect, for they have kept me alive and constantly positive for the past three years and have enabled me to feel the 'power of your love' throughout this time. This is despite the fact that the overwhelming majority of Facebook contacts I have, I have never met face-to-face and probably never will. Not being able to see you all face-to-face though, has not stopped me putting a face to what makes you tick, or prevented me ever having a good idea of what you value highly in life, Even through your public and private messages, not being able to see you have not stopped me sharing your innermost fears, loves and disappointments, or knowing your innate goodness.

It is not necessary to see the tears in order to hear another cry; it is not necessary to place your hand inside their wounds to feel their hurt and excruciating pain. We do not have to experience the very same experience of someone grieving to understand the deep sense of loss that is felt when they stand over the corpse of a loved one who has died; especially when they have died from unnatural causes and before their time. The only necessary human ingredient in this process is to be and belong! Once you are able to feel a part of another person's life, you exemplify the very embodiment of everything important that life has to offer; of knowing that you are but a part of a greater whole, the central good in the core of humanity.

So, give these orphaned children your prayers and you will give them the 'power of your love'. It is impossible to feel the 'power of love' and also to feel alone or helpless, whether one is adult or child." William Forde: December 5th, 2016.

December 4th, 2016

4/12/2016

Thought for today:
"Place your love in the hands of all that's good and wholesome and contentment will be the key to your eternal happiness.The humblest of tasks become beautified when loving hands perform them."
William Forde: December 4th, 2016.