Appreciations

Warnakula Arachchiralalage Don Julian Anselm was born on April 21, 1900 in Payagala. When he was 18 his father died and he looked after his mother and two sisters, giving them in marriage, and looking after his mother till her death.

He worked in the estate plantation sector. One day, he saw a beautiful girl and later found out that she was an only child living in another estate with her parents.

Dressed as a poor man in a sarong and dirty banian with a towel wrapped around his head like a turban, he went to that estate on the pretext of collecting fallen coconut branches for making cadjans.

While at the job, he got the opportunity of seeing this beautiful girl once again and went to the rear entrance to ask for some water to drink. He was rewarded indeed! Then and there he made up his mind that she would be his.

At the age of 36, he married his first love Pearl Edith of 18 years. They were blessed with seven gifts as he used to say. Ben, Dotty, Leo, Neil, Doreen, Berna and Freeda were their pet names.

I am the sixth among them. We grew up in estates amidst canals, hills, dales and waterfalls, coconut trees, rubber trees and tea bushes infested with leeches, hares, iguanas, squirrels, birds and butterflies and wild flowers and ferns.

Thaththa was the head of the family and everyone obeyed him. Amma was the heart and everyone loved her. He bestowed love and respect on her and treated her like a precious pearl. I still remember how he sat in the old kitchen, keeping her company when she cooked lunch on Sundays.

He was an example to us and gave us good advice. He had been a heavy smoker for a long time but none of his three sons smoked. He believed in God and was a devout Catholic. Every evening the family prayed together. On Fridays and Saturdays he stayed up the whole night in prayer while we slept.

He gave us a good education in Catholic convents and colleges, even though it was not an easy task to educate and provide for seven children with a limited monthly salary.

He also took care of the poor. He bought books for very poor students, whether they were Catholic, Buddhist or Hindu, Sinhalese or Tamils. He helped the needy in which ever way he could.

He was a man of few words. I remember his smile and happiness when during school holidays we children got together in the evenings and sang songs and hymns.

Those must have been the happiest hours in the latter part of his life. Sometimes he joined us in singing and even sung solos. His favourites were “Ave Maris Stella – Dei Mater Alma’ and ‘Good Bye, Piccadilly.”

The last time we sang together with him was at St. Peter’s Estate, Ingiriya in August 1966. On that day he had a special request for us to sing ‘nearer my God to thee.’

On August 30, when holidays were coming to an end he called the youngest four of us, a son and three daughters and told us “one day when I am not there you must give my place to your mother. You must obey her at all times.”
On Sept 10, 1966 after a brief illness my father passed away. It came as a shock to us as he had never been sick before.

Two weeks after his funeral when my eldest brother went through Thatha’s files, he found a letter he had addressed to ‘Darling Pearl". In it he requested her to give him a mendicant’s burial with only four plants just enough to hold his body and whatever money saved to be given to the poor.

He thanked mother for bringing up with love his God-given seven gifts. He said that the treasure he was leaving behind for her were these seven gifts.

Articles written by him had been published in the then well known ‘Psychologist’ magazine.

When he worked on a foreign owned estate and when he had to write a certain report to be sent abroad, he had told his boss that there was no word in the English language to bring out the real meaning of this particular Sinhala word that he needed to use.

Then on being told to coin a proper English word to bring out the meaning, he did so.

They told him that they would get it entered in the English Dictionary. The word he coined was “Asswadumise”.

This happened even before I was born. My eldest brother remembers thaththa telling this to him. Today this word is supposed to be in the Dictionary.

His precious ‘Pearl’, our mother passed away 17 years ago and our eldest sister Dorothy – his favourite – passed away eight years ago.

Even today my heart is happy and proud to know that my father was a God-loving, God fearing humble man. We still love you Thaththa and cherish the happy memories – the golden memories of you. We your children are all God-loving and God-fearing too!