I met Penelope twenty four years ago, just after my accident. Let me tell you about it.

       I was recovering my parents farm. We got a phone call from Maralin Vanrenen asking us if it would be okay if she and a friend could stop off and spent two nights with us on their way to Cape Town. Maralin had directed me before my accident in  a cabaret with Elzabe Zietsman called SABS Approved. We had clicked immediately. I liked her. I liked her a lot!

       On seeing me again she gave me a warm hug and then stood back. An imposing lady stood before me. She was tall and golden…and…carried a presence with her. I looked into this face that was dominated by a smile that spread across her features. “Hi, Gaynor, I’m Penelope.” And that was how PJ Powers entered my life.

      Mum recalls one incident from that evening which I had forgotten about. Apparently Dad offered everyone drinks. Due to my brain damage, I couldn’t recall what sort of drink I liked. So Dad lined up about eight different drinks and I sipped them. I liked them all!

       Mum and Dad hit it off with Maralin and Penelope instantly. Dad asked Penelope: “Do you think that you could do a little performance for our workers tomorrow. They would all love it so much.”

       “Give a performance? But…but…I can’t! Oh no, Chris, I’m so sorry, but I don’t have my guitar, my band or my back up singers!  Sorry,” she finished lamely.

       “Look,” Dad said producing my guitar, “surely you can produce a few songs using this!”

       Penelope was floored. It was arranged that at about twelve o’ clock the next day PJ would sing a few numbers for our workers. But word obviously spread. We had phone calls  from other farms and several bakkies packed with their workers duly arrived before twelve. When Penelope went out armed with my guitar, she had an audience of more than a hundred sitting on bales of hay who greeted her rapturously.

      At this stage, I was wearing my first hearing aid. Because my head was still very swollen it was incredibly simple in its design and the sound it produced was very basic, very basic indeed. In fact in reality I couldn’t  hear much at all!

       I hadn’t bargained for the enthusiasm which greeted Penelope but she seemed quite at ease with her audience. Talking and laughing with them. She sang a number. Yes, she was good, I thought looking at peoples reaction. At the same time, I wanted to rip my hearing device from my head in frustration. I wasn’t hearing, I wasn’t hearing at all! I felt as if I was listening to a person singing underwater four rooms away.

       That day I battled with something which I would battle with for the next eighteen years. Hearing music.

       Fast forward twenty three years.

       Once more it is PJ Powers singing and Gaynor listening. The difference is two Cochlear Implants and the fact that Gaynor can now hear that wonderful voice singing Jabulani, Jabulani Africa…..I too am able to respond with rapture to my friend singing. Firefly, the latest show that PJ is in, is about Penelope finding light in the dark. It was a firefly moment for me too. Hearing her voice for the first time was like having a light shone on something that was previously a dark indecipherable mass.

       She has a voice that can alternate between being clear and strong to being raw and at times having a husky timbre. It is filled with soul. I heard my friend tell of the thing that had ripped her psyche apart. And how she had managed to build it together again. Penelope has the ability to make you feel as if she is speaking to you alone. And then she opens her mouth and sings and the sound that rises from her lips is riveting. She was speaking of strength and courage and suddenly she said: “Sitting here tonight is Gaynor Young who has shown such incredible strength and courage over the years. Gaynor I find you totally awe inspiring.”

       Penelope, thank you.

       PJ spoke of her addiction to alcohol and her fight against this demon. She spoke of the love and fortitude of her sister, Priscilla, who helped her in the banishing of this fiend. I loved PJ for the recognition that she could not fight this battle on her own. That she needed help. And she received it.

       That was something I have had to learn over the years. To ask for help. It is a humbling thing to have to do. But very rarely have I ever had a blatant refusal. People want to help. I thank God for that. It’s strange though but as Karl Menninger said: “Love cures people — both the ones who give it and the ones who receive it.”

       Thandeka (the Loved One) is the name Penelope was christened with at the Jabulani Amphitheatre in 1982.

       She has found that love.

       So have I.

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Press here to see ‘PJ’ performing Jabulani Jabulani Africa…..

      What were your childhood Christmases like?

       I’m so lucky. For me, Christmas was the most magical, enchanting time.

       We spent every Christmas with my Mum’s sister’s family – the Nel’s. There were four daughters in their family, Anne, Margaret, Karen and Judith, plus Liz, Megan and me in ours. Is it any wonder that my brother, Patrick was spoiled rotten! It was a case of finishing lunch and “Girls, would you clear the table!”

       “What about Patch? He must also help.”

       “No, leave him. This is girls work!”

       Can you frigging well believe it? This was during the 70’s. At that time, feminism had not reared it’s wonderful and necessary head in the Young and Nel households. I find it so amusing that now in each us “children’s” families the kids clear the table, female AND male alike! The only children that are excused are my children, Perdita and Spencer. A dog and a bird are not all that au fait with clearing the table!

       Those Christmases are filled with memories for me…..

       The girls would take it in turns making the mince pies. We would turn the record player on and sing along. The house was filled with records of Christmas carols. Yeah, records not CD’s. Something that the younger generation have no knowledge of! Records of Bing Crosby crooning White Christmas, and Winter Wonderland, Oh Holy Night, Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, Please Daddy don’t get drunk this Christmas.Our favourite though, was definitely Boney M!

       Mum, Libby and we girls loved to sing. And we did. Many an evening was spent with Anne, Margs and on guitars singing. It was so wonderful because we were taught to harmonise and let me tell you we made a pretty good singing group.

       Every Christmas would involve the Christmas nativity play performed by us eight children. Patrick was naturally cast as Joseph which he endured for a few years but finally he had had enough of playing “the namby-pampby Joseph”! He had a far better idea. He would play a rough and tumble innkeeper instead and…he would set up a star that moved all the way across the lounge! And so complete with washing line and pulleys the star finally hopped and jumped haphazardly setting the path for Mary and Joseph. Elizabeth and Kari played Mary and Joseph. And what a Mary Kari was! She was about fourteen months pregnant and this Jesus was a large boy! She was stuffed  cushions which slipped and slid, fell out and were re-pushed back in as she and ‘Joseph’  followed the star. They finally reached the stable where they were allowed to spend the night. Joseph set about delivering Mary’s baby. Libby’s maid, Josie, had had a baby in October. His name was Bonsela, which is Zulu for “present” and he made the perfect Jesus! Kari lay there saying things like: “Oh, Joseph, he’s coming now and he feels great!”

       Joseph in turn declared: “You’re looking a little pale. I shall go and get you some water!” (Thoughtful husband, huh!) and Liz then scurried out and returned with Bonsela carried beneath a towel. Kari then threw away the third or was it the fourth cushion saying: “Oh, much better!”

       At which Liz said: “And you’ve had a son and you shall call him Jesus!”

       Bonsela’s black face grinned happily at us.

       Anne, Margs and I were always the three kings. Libby had wonderful clothes in which we adorned ourselves. Every year we would have the same argument over who was to wear the beautiful embroidered jacket! (I still lust over that jacket!) Margs said: “Let us follow yonder star. It will lead us to the baby, the Saviour of the world!” We three kings then set off across the lounge following Patrick’s star singing “We three kings of Orient are…” The star was meant to move to above Mary, Joseph and Jesus but instead it  got half way there then stopped. And refused to budge another inch! We three kings were meant to finish our song and say: “Look, the star has stopped over the stable…” Let me tell you the star was nowhere near the stable. It was stuck just past the piano and refused to budge! Patch said: “Hold on, just let me adjust the…”

       At that moment, Megan who was meant to be an angel-shepherd and was dressed in a little ballet tutu, a straw hat and carrying a walking stick came flouncing past us in her own little four year world:”I’m a fairy shepherd, I’m a fairy shepherd!” she cried. “Look at me dancing…”

       “The Angel is showing us the way,” cried Anne desperately.

       We literally fled across the lounge till we reached a shed made up of draped towels. There, with Megs “fairy-shepherding” in and out, the rest of us sang “Away in a Manger” with gusto. A rainbow nativity scene in the 70’s! Joy to the World!!!

         We had no fireplace so we used to arrange our Christmas stockings under the Christmas tree knowing that Father Christmas would find them there and we would wake in the morning to  bulging Christmas stockings at the end of our beds! We also put out mince pies for Father Christmas to fortify himself with. Dad suggested a beer as well, to give him extra strength because he had a long way to go that night. Dad is always full of good ideas!

       Eight highly excited children went upstairs to bed. I hugged myself when I lay in bed that night. I just loved Christmas. At 5.30 on Christmas morning we were all awake but we couldn’t get downstairs because the adults had locked the gate. So we sat on the stairs and sang Christmas carols and generally made a noise until at 6.30 the adults unlocked the gate. They opened the lounge doors and we gasped in awestruck delight. There were mounds of presents everywhere! Each person had their own little pile. Eight children, four adults and Gran. As I say, the lounge was teeming with brightly wrapped gifts!

       And playing on the hi-fi was “God rest you merry gentlemen, let nothing you dismay, Remember Christ our Saviour was born on Christmas Day….”

       I am so blessed to have such joy filled Christmas memories.Today I watch my nieces and nephew in their nativity plays and I smile at the enthrallment they carry with them. Family is the enchantment giver! Of that there can be no doubt.

       So to all of you, may this festive season be filled with enchantment, family, laughter, friendship and most of all – Love!