Appreciations
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True
patriot who lived his life with love for others
The second son of the late Rev. Don Louis Welikala, a pioneering missionary of the Church of Ceylon and a well reputed Sinhala scholar and Dona Catherina (nee Colombage), he chose to follow in his father's footsteps choosing the humble vocation of priesthood, serving humanity-family, friends, church, society and country with idealism, dedication, enthusiasm and a practicality which I was privileged to observe from close quarters as his eldest son. His two sisters and five brothers who have all passed away followed in the footsteps of their parents using their talents to serve the community in different ways. They all looked up to him with affection and respect as a guiding light in family matters. The eldest, C.C.V. (Vinnie) was the engineer in charge of Colombo Waterworks, A.H.N. (Noel) was the first radiologist in Sri Lanka and a cancer specialist of international standing, J.L.O. (Owen) was the Principal of the Deaf & Blind School in Ratmalana and G.H.F. (Bertie) was an economist and Director of Rural Development. His sisters were Violet Cooray and Joyce Hettiarachchi. Driven
by his faith and high ideals he loved and accepted people for what
they were. He put his faith and ideals in what he did for others.
A flood relief organisation was formed which included Sir R.S.S. Gunawardena, Badiuddin Mohamed (later Minister of Education) and other leading citizens of Gampola. At the inaugural public meeting an attempt to attack Mr. Badiuddin Mohamed was made whereupon my father who was on the stage physically restrained the attempted attackers at risk of his own safety. Fear was something not known to him. From 1949 to 1966 he was the Vicar of All Saints Church, Galle and Rural Dean for the Southern Province. The communal riots of the 1950s saw his character come to the fore again. Displaced Tamil families (mainly professionals) were temporarily housed in Southlands College, Galle Fort. Anti-Tamil sentiment and fear stalked Galle. The refugees had to be fed. He went round the town collecting food and water for the refugees. This was frowned upon by the mobs who told him that if this was done by anybody else they would have forcibly stopped it. This did not bother him. He carried on regardless doing what he felt was right. He was a friend to all. I know of countless people who turned up in our house seeking his help in their time of need. In illness, death in the family, in cases of imprisonment, he was present to give a helping hand. If there was a death in a family he would personally handle matters, go to the Registrar's Office to get the death certificate, help with funeral arrangements etc., apart from giving spiritual comfort. Although many of the leading parishes in Colombo wanted him he continued to serve the Southern Province where he, apart from managing the Church, managed the Church schools, orphanages and lands. In the last years of his ministry he continued at Talangama where his father ministered. He had green fingers. Wherever he went he planted trees, flowers and vegetables. People passing by St. Matthew's Church, Talangama seeing the flourishing Vicarage garden used to remark that if all people in Sri Lanka were like "Father Welikala" it would be a land of plenty. He was always supported by my mother Milfred (daughter of the late Mudliyar Wickramaratne and Mrs. Wickramaratne) in his work. She was an ideal priest's wife. My father was one of a rare breed who could move with rulers and the humble and poor. He was a true patriot who lived his life in practical, simple ways with love for his fellow human beings. He passed away in 1971 fighting his last illness bravely. His life was an inspiration to us all. May his example light generations to come. As we celebrate his 100th Birth Anniversary he is blessed with his children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Priya Welikala Thank
you for the love and care My mind goes back to our childhood. He loved equally his four children. He had never been rude to us nor did he shout at us. We never had any restrictions imposed on us and were quite free to do anything. We really enjoyed our childhood. He did his best to educate us with care and give us a meaningful life. He was not only a devout Buddhist, but also taught us its practical value and brought us up in a truly Buddhist environment. He was loved by all and went out of his way to help anyone irrespective of their caste, creed and race, and advised us to follow him. His hobby was reading and he was a well learned person who could talk on any subject. I still remember the good old days when we sat and listened to his stories for hours and hours, because the way he related them was quite interesting. My father loved my mother very much, and they celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary in February 2004. They were a loving and understanding couple who enjoyed living together very happily and peacefully, and also set an example to all of us. My mother is still in grief. A remarkable quality I saw in him was kindness, and because of this, he was loved by all his grandchildren. His loss has affected them too and they are still unable to overcome shock and grief. He was blessed with five granddaughters – Amali, Achala, Chamila, Malsha, Pooja and one grand son, Akash, whom he loved very much. He was fortunate enough to see his eldest grand-daughter's (my daughter - Amali's) wedding. That was one of the most awaited events in his life, and he really enjoyed it. Thank you very much dear Appuchcha, for educating our children and teaching them how to live a good life, with your wonderful guidance, love and care. No words can express our gratitude to you. Renuka Gunasekera You
were our inspiration Daddy, you are missed by many of your near and dear ones who came to you for counsel and advice. You inspired us to do well in life. Year after year, we remember you in our silent prayers. The passage of time, has in no way diminished our love. You have left behind memories so beautiful that deep in our hearts we still love, respect and remember you everyday. Careema Careem Helping
the helpless was second nature to him Be it an upset stomach of an infant, be it a life-threatening issue, they made one beeline to him. This man felt so much for his people, that a cry for help always evoked an instant and spontaneous response. He would rush without even wearing a shirt or telling his wife. If he was alone at home, he would dart out leaving all the doors wide open. Glory used to tell me how the man who was on his easy chair devouring a book this minute, was missing the next minute. It could be several hours before he returned, leaving her anxious and on pins all the while. Invariably he had gone to the aid of a fellow human being, forgetting hearth and home. Sorrow stricken mothers have held his feet and wept in anguish, pleading with him to save their children who had 'disappeared'. He did his utmost, at the risk of his own life, using all his good offices and resources at his command. Most of them repeated the ritual of holding his feet and crying. This time it was tears of joy and gratitude for didn't he make the children 'appear'. He never made much of these acts or spoke about what he did. Helping the helpless was second nature to him. Politics was his dream, although he did not hold political office, except, for a spell as Chairman of the Pradeshiya Sabha. This man won the hearts and minds of his people. He loved them. They, in turn, loved and respected him. He was always at their service - sans office, sans remuneration, sans perks. He spent his own time, energy and money in serving his people. Shun loved his village; more so its people. He could have emigrated to England, Canada or for that matter wherever he wished to. He could have relocated to Colombo. He turned a deaf ear to the pleas of his children. Come hell or high water, cyclones, floods, bombs or bullets, Shun would not budge from Kalkudah. Through all these he stood like the rock of Gibraltar. He had completed writing a book a few months before his demise. He used to tell me over the phone, with child-like glee, the number of pages he had completed at that point in time. The book he told me was about the fine gentlemen and ladies he had met in his life and filled with anecdotes of a by-gone era. I asked him whether he had thought of a title for the book. He quipped "The Vanishing Species". Today two of that species have vanished. I hope and pray his childhood pal, Neville Ebert, who lives in Canada, has a copy of the manuscript. When he telephoned me in early December, as usual I asked him when he would come to Colombo. I have always asked him this question and always got a precise answer - exact date, month and purpose of visit. This time round the answer was different. He only said, "Don't know. Mahan", in a low voice tinged with sorrow. Glory in her own quiet way saw to his every need and was the wind beneath his wings. Shun and Glory were an inseparable couple. The marriage vow... "Till death do us part", did not apply to them, for they lived together and died together. Even death could not part them. As the more personal memories flood my mind, the tears flow my eyes more copiously than the words. May Shun and Glory attain Moksha. May the rest of the world SHUN all evil and concentrate on the GLORY of God. Gajendran Marcandan (Guy Mahan) |
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