Grade 10: English 2009: Reading Material: Theme: It's all about Love

Doris Lessing, the novelist, describes her feelings for the pet cat she had as a little girl in southern Africa.

I was sick that winter. It was uncomfortable because my big room was being re-painted and I was put in the little room at the back of the house. The house, nearly but not quite, on the top of the hill, always seemed as if it might slide off into the corn fields below. This tiny room had a door, always open and windows, always open, in spite of the windy cold of a July whose skies were an unending light clear blue. The sky, full of sunshine; the fields, sunlit, but cold, very cold. The cat, a bluish grey Persian arrived purring on my bed, and settled down to share my sickness, my food, my pillow, my sleep. When I awoke in the mornings, my face turned to the half frozen sheets, the outside of the fur blanket on the bed was also cold, the smell of fresh paint from next door was cold and clean and the wind whistling just outside my door was cold, but in the curve of my arm was a light purring warmth; the cat, my friend.

At the back of the house, a wooden tub was set into the earth, outside the bathroom, for there were no pipes carrying water to taps on that farm, water was fetched by an ox–drawn cart when it was needed, from the well about two miles away. The cat fell into this tub when it was full of hot water. She screamed, was pulled out into a cold wind and washed, for the tub was filthy and held leaves and dust as well as soapy water. Then, she was dried and put into my bed to warm. But she grew burning hot with fever. She had pneumonia. We gave her what medicine we had in the house, but that was before the invention of antibiotics. For a week she lay in my arm purring in a rough trembling little voice that became weaker, then was silent. She licked my hands, opened huge green eyes when I called her name and begged her to live, closed them and died.

That was it. Never again. And for years, I watched cats in friends’ houses, cats in shops, cats on farms, cats on the street, cats on walls and I remembered that gentle blue – grey puring creature which for me was the “Cat “ never to be replaced.

{B}

The famous Chef, Raymond Blanc talks to Jason Meyers, the reporter at “Spotlight” about his childhood memories.

I thought my whole world was crashing on top of my head. For the first time ever, I lost somebody I loved; he didn’t die, he just went away.

It was a very nice childhood, a teenage most people would wish to have, we were living in a tiny village and were a close family. Our neighbours has a son, Rene, and my wonderful childhood was shared with him; basically, we grew up together, we spent every day together, went to school together, we did all the things that children can do. It was a childhood spent in the woods, discovering the beautiful seasons. There were plenty of creatures that grew in the wild and we went mushrooming and frog hunting together. The adventures that children go through in the making of a friendship, building a tree house and spending a night in the forest and losing our way back home, these things create a fantastic fabric to the friendship. There was the loving element, too, he was very caring. Rene was a tall bloke and very strong, and he would be my defender: if anyone ever teased me, he would be there.

It was the finest friendship anyone could have, a brilliant pure friendship in which you would give your life for your friend. and life was marvellous, it seemed full of sunshine, full of incredible, beautiful things to discover, and I looked forward very much to growing up with Rene.

And then, at the age of fourteen, his parents moved to the south of France, and we were in the east of France, which is seven hundred and fifty kilometres away…to me, the south of France sounded like the end of the world. Well, our parents realised it would be very traumatic, and they did not know how to break the news, so they just announced it the day before. It was a beautiful summer’s day, around five o’clock in the evening, and both parents came and said, ”We are moving away, and obviously Rene will have to come with us.’

I went quiet for the news to sink in; at first it was total disbelief. I couldn’t sleep, and then in the night, I understood that my life would be completely separate from his, and I had to be by myself, alone. And at that time, my world stopped, it was the most incredible pain I have ever experienced, I couldn’t see life without my fiend, my whole system, my life, was based on Rene, our friendship was my life. And although he was only going away, he did not die, it was the worst loss I have ever had in my life, still now and thirty years later I have not received another shock of an equal degree.

I made other friends, but never did I have that kind of closeness as I had with Rene. Nothing was the same, people, the classroom, nature, the country, even butterflies! Maybe because he was more mature and level headed, he understood that life brings people together and separates them and distance is not necessarily the end of a relationship. He accepted that life would separate us, he didn’t see it as a disaster. It was my tragedy to see only the negative side. I felt too sorry for myself.

He is now living a happy life in Provence with a beautiful wife and two lovely daughters, and he is coming here next year, so it is going to be quite great. It is the first time he has ever come to England.

It is a good solid relationship that has been built over so many years, and has overcome all the barriers which life and time can create.