Tea and care
During an occasional visit to his family home at Pallansena, a village six miles off Negombo, Merrill J. Fernando found his aged mother quietly wrapping the tea - he had sent earlier from his company - into smaller packs. “Why are you doing this?” he asked. “I want to give the villagers,” she said.
Horrible scream in the dead of night

Of course I had heard about the notorious devil bird. I first heard about it on Kuttapitiya – the tea estate in Pelmadulla where my father worked and where we children grew up. But that was a very long time ago in the 1940s before I was sent to England “to get a decent education”. Ours was a wild carefree existence, and we were happy. I particularly remember 1946 when my father took me on a trip around the island. It was probably the highlight of my life up until then. I was 12, and it was certainly the last thing we did alone together.

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