Sometime this year I will be publishing a book of short stories about five types of women. They are fictional except for the first one which is based on an elderly woman who I met in Barcelona some years ago. She died about ten years ago.

Antonia was extremely poor. It was the kind of poverty where the few things she owned had all been given to her. She would sing on the streets of Barcelona to earn a few coins and for a year she was homeless until a benefactor found a thirty square metre apartment for her to live in. My son used to listen to her sing and befriended her. She changed his life.

Antonia had a quality about her which attracted people. Some would come and ask her advice about their problems; even people high up in the business and political spheres would lap up her wisdom. But she would only accept coins for her singing. She was the most generous person because she gave of her time and listened with her heart.

In these times of strutting egos, greedy bullies and empty imagery, I am grateful that she existed, grateful for her pure heart and authenticity. Sometimes the true heroes and heroines of this world are to be found singing at the entrance to the underground in big cities.

When I first met her through my son, she insisted I come to lunch. The following poem is to honour that day and her memory.

ANTONIA, THE SAGE   

   

                                                                 In memory of Antonia Mantas

You offered me

Your one un-chipped cup,

You spent your last cents

(A mean offering

From guilty passers-by)

On skinny chicken wings

To invite me

To your feast,

As if I was

A queen,

An honoured guest,

Undeserving of your reverence.

But it was you

The queen,

With your delicate smile,

Gleaning words of hope

From your mourning heart.

Now you are gone

And the world has a hole,

Like the whole of Greenland

And the pavement where you sat

And sang to us

And cheered us

And advised us

Is sacred ground.

Yes, sacrosanct,

You, trespassers,

Who dare to tread

On holy cement

And not be burnt

To smouldering embers.