Reprinted from The Common Good, No 11, Lent 1999

www.catholicworker.org.nz

 

THE CLEANSING OF THE TEMPLE – by our Housing reporter

It was a warm January morning when the work crew arrived. Less than 12 hours before, Francis and his family had departed the hallowed walls of the Cardijn CW in Feilding Street, and Sarah, Scott, Stan and the team were on the job. No cob webs were left, no dusty corner ignored as the trio got down to the task at hand.

Some said the house had not seen paint since the Great Depression, but this was disputed by a neighbour who remembered that the last coat had gone on at about the time that Baden-Powell had withstood the siege at Mafeking. Whatever the truth of the history of the house, it was certainly in need of repairs and a coat of paint. Greg organised a trailer to take two loads of Francis’s favourite items to the dump. And that was just from the bedroom. This memorabilia included such valuable items as old Weet-Bix packets, half empty bottles, faded newspapers and some richly embellished socks.

This enabled Sarah and Scott to put up their ladders and trestle and get down to business. Working 12 hour shifts over a period of days, they dealt to the hall (in a single hour no less than 27 revolutionary posters were trashed and dropped into the waste), then onto the front TV room where Brian and Elizabeth sometimes have their afternoon kip, and then into the famous ‘blue’ room which was painted with pink paint and emerged as sparkling lemon. The kitchen took a full day of cleaning and washing down the walls, while the bathroom got similar treatment.

But it was the outside toilet that had the most revolutionary shake-up. Off came the door that was already off. In came Brian Maunsell, looking very much like the good tradesman he is. He tried to tell Mike that he’d once been a boxer but Mike knew from Brian’s middle aged spread that this was simply untrue. But he did enjoy the joke. A new door, some white paint inside, a latch (luxury, luxury) and a fresh roll of 4-ply paper had the place looking like a show piece. ‘God help anyone who dirties it now’, muttered Stan, as he tugged at his red cap, ‘I dunno what Francis will say’. Time for the carpet to be laid. Jim and Sue went off to seek some suitable seconds, emerging from Sue’s garage with some top quality Axminster. Into the slot like the veteran he is rolled Tom, carpet layer extraordinaire. A couple of days work and a million tacks later and the place was looking like a new pin.

Anxiously, the team awaited the return of the Simmonds troupe. What would they say? Worst still, what might they do? Did they even like lemon and sunset red bedrooms? Would Francis know how to perform in a gleaming white toilet? Where would he put his gum boots, now that there was carpet inside?

They need never have worried. Francis was overwhelmed. Or at least, that’s what he sounded like. ‘Wow’, he said. Then gulping in more air and steadying himself against the brick fireplace, he repeated himself. ‘Wow’.

It is one of the shortest but one of the sweetest words in the English language. We reckoned that just about said it all. Melanie thought it was ‘cool’ and immediately commissioned Sarah and Scott to paint her room too. Joseph thought he was in a new house.

And as the shadows lengthened across the empty allotment next door and the sun sank to the strains of ‘Ten Guitars’ and the smell of the grilled sausages and chops, there was a sense of achievement for a job well done. As Peter Maurin used to say, ‘Good work, co-operative work well done, dignifies all who participate’. Well spoken, Peter. Well done, Sarah and Scott and your gang of helpers.