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This is the story of how I came to know and accept Jesus Christ as my Lord and Saviour. It is a story of God’s faithfulness to an unworthy and unfaithful young man. It is a story of the Holy Spirit patiently and lovingly changing my mind and heart and arranging circumstances to lead me to Christ so I can be saved.
Introduction
My name is Fadi and I was born in late 1982 in Baghdad, Iraq, but I grew up in Kirkuk, a city about 240km north of Baghdad. My grandfather was Syriac Orthodox but my father was raised as a Roman Catholic because my grandmother, the one who cared about religion, was a Roman Catholic so she raised him and us--my sister and I--as Roman Catholics. My mother’s family is also Roman Catholic.
In Iraq a person’s religion is part of their identification documents. Because of this a lot of people would be known by a certain faith even though they do not believe in it or practice it. A lot of Christians in Iraq are what I call devoted to their denominations, but as far as born-again is concerned I do not recall knowing anyone who was born-again. I also do not recall anyone ever teaching salvation is by faith in Jesus’ death on the Cross through God’s grace. Simply put, there was no Gospel: there was no good news because there was no message of salvation. And because there was no message of salvation people did not get saved and there were no born-again Christians. I also do not recall any teachings about the Holy Spirit; the only time I heard of the Holy Spirit is when we said “in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit”. I actually thought the Holy Spirit was an invisible force; I did not understand that the Holy Spirit is a person of the triune God!
Feeling Detached
My ethnical background is Chaldean. Chaldeans are an ethnical group of a minority Christian community in Iraq. However, I never felt like I was a Chaldean. The main reason has to do with the fact I do not speak Aramaic—the mother tongue of Chaldeans. I never learnt Aramaic because my family does not speak it either; we speak Arabic (the official language of Iraq). That is why I always felt an outcast in Sunday school, and my Muslim friends often asked me, “How can you be Christian if you do not speak Aramaic?” So since my childhood I never felt like I belonged to any group: I did not feel like I was a Chaldeans, a Roman Catholic, or an Iraqi. I simply could not associate myself with any group whether ethnic, religious, or political. I simply saw myself as a human and that was good enough for me.
This detachment from certain groups was negative socially as I could not relate to any group of people and I always saw myself as an outsider; therefore, I did not feel compelled to join any cause or group activity.
Feelings of Inferiority
I was a very shy and sensitive child and I never felt comfortable in social settings. Here is something that happened that set the course for my life. I have never told this story to anyone but I believe it is important to understand who I was before coming to Christ:
On my fifth or sixth birthday party my cousin bought me a set of army vehicles and GI Joes as a gift and I loved it. I was playing with the toys and the house was full of people and everybody was having fun socializing and eating. When my mom saw me playing with the toys she told my aunt (her older sister), “Why did you burden yourself? You shouldn’t have gone through the trouble and spent the money and buy a gift.” I was confused: I did not know if I had done something wrong by accepting and enjoying the gift and if I should return it or what—after all I was only five years old! And I was not a street-smart child—I was very naive and innocent. Of course my mom was saying a typical thing in the Middle East: she was not trying to minimize my importance to her or the importance of my birthday. (And I am sure countless mothers have said something similar in front of their children.) But I was a very sensitive child and to my 5 years old brain I interpreted her words as saying: I am not important; I had done something bad; I am not worthy; I am causing people trouble and costing them money--I am a burden.
You would think such a small insignificant incident would not have a long lasting effect, but ever since that day I always felt like I was a burden, always felt guilty, unworthy and stupid. So I shied away from people even more, and became nervous in social settings. And of course, the less social I became the less self-confident I became and started having really low self-esteem and self-image. However, out of all the negative feelings I have about myself the worst is the feeling of being stupid. I am not sure why I feel stupid sometimes but the feeling comes suddenly and so powerfully it is literally paralysing.
To make things worse as I became a teenager I started gaining weight and I developed trichotillomania which caused my already low self-confidence to plummet even more, and I became even more withdrawn from people and detached from my surroundings. It is such a vicious cycle: the more anti-social I became the lower my self-confidence became, and the lower my self-confidence became the more anti-social I became; the less social I became the worse my trichotillomania habit got, and the worse my trichotillomania habit got the less social I became! I felt like I was standing in a hole and digging myself deeper in.
Obedient but Stubborn
I was a good and obedient kid so I rarely gave my parents hard time and I was never the rebellious type. I remember overhearing my mom telling our neighbour that she would have more children if she could guarantee they will be like me. I always listened and respected authority so that made me a good student on top of the fact I always studied really hard. I was very peaceful and a peacemaker. I avoided conflict and I was fair: for me or against me. I always tried to look at things objectively which made my friends trust me. I enjoyed telling jokes but I also was a deep thinker. I was quite liked and respected by my peers. Somehow everybody seemed to know me.
I was very stubborn: I would not listen to anyone if I believed they were wrong. I had to be convinced and it was not always easy. My family used to joke that if doctors looked inside my head they would not find a brain but a rock--I was that stubborn! But I was never stubborn for the trivial things in life--I was only stubborn if I disagreed on things that mattered. I was never the follower type even though I never liked being a leader. I was not impressed by popular opinions and never tried to chase after the latest trends. For some reason what the world had to offer did not impress me—I wanted more from life than materialistic things and passing pleasures. I was not tempted to try things that I believed were wrong: to me wrong was wrong whether I am permitted to do it or not.
I was a good storyteller and communicated my thoughts well but I almost never shared my inner feelings with anyone—I kept everything on the inside and dealt with it by myself. I loved to help and could empathize with others. I was always attracted to the meek and outcast than the proud and popular. I love to comfort others and encourage them. I was cautious and had a heightened sense of danger. There are a couple of instances when God by His grace warned me beforehand to avoid—if I had went along with others to these two places I would have been hurt really bad. The young liked my company and the adults trusted me. I was the kind of a boy where the neighbourhood girls could give me a friendly smile without having to worry about me interpreting it the wrong way.
Even though I was smart, worked hard, punctual, and a perfectionist I still lacked confidence: I did not believe I was worthy or capable of succeeding.
God Is Real
In the 1980s Diego Maradona, the captain of the Argentina soccer team, was the biggest soccer star, especially after the 1986 FIFA World Cup where he single-handedly lead Argentina to win the title defeating West Germany in the final. So he was my hero because soccer is the most popular sport in Iraq. In the 1990 FIFA World Cup final it was Argentina versus Germany again and Argentina lost 1-0 because of a last minute penalty kick. Maradona, my hero, cried and so I was going to cry too (don’t forget I was only 7 years old at the time!) but I did not want my family to see me crying so I ran upstairs. (Because Iraq’s summer is hot and often times there was no electricity, a lot of people sleep on the rooftops. It is easy to set up beds on the roof since the houses have flat roofs with brick walls.) It was night time and I threw myself on my bed crying—it was very quiet because people were still watching the FIFA World Cup event. I bitterly asked God why He let Maradona lose--as a child I didn’t know any better! Then I got tired of crying so I just laid on my back on the bed and looked up: the sky was dark and full of stars. I could hear distance noises from the TVs but it was quiet where I was. I kept looking at the sky and kind of forgot about Maradona’s loss because it was such a peaceful sight. Then it suddenly became a fearful sight: I was lying on a bed that is sitting on a roof with nothing tangible attaching me to earth which itself was floating in a vast and dark universe! That is when I understood that there is a God: a God had designed and created the heavens and the earth. Until then I was told that God existed but on that night I understood that He existed.
Who was He? I did not know but I knew He existed and He was great.
Doubts, Disappointments, and Rebellion
My dad was a devoted Catholic and he was an altar boy as a child but after two wars and the economic sanctions under a ruthless dictator he started to doubt his faith. So after the Gulf War, when I finally got to spend some time with him and know him, he imparted his doubts onto me. I was still young, in my early teens, so I was easily impressible and so I embraced his doubts as mine. On top of my new doubts I was becoming very disappointed with the Roman Catholic denomination for many reasons.
When I was 12 years old I enrolled in Sunday school in the summer break to be prepared for my first communion. They seated me in the front and paired me with this beautiful girl who was my age. There was a boy named Emmanuel who was trouble (he was always up to no good) and they had seated him in the back. As usual I kept my distance from troublesome kids and minded my own business. I did not talk much anyway especially to the girls because I was very shy. We rehearsed everything and everything was going according to plan. On the day of the first communion a nun came and kind of escorted me by the shoulders all the way to the back of the column and gave Emmanuel my spot at the front. I did not know why and, as usual, I did not protest. Not long after I found out the reason: Emmanuel’s uncle was a deacon, so when his parents saw their son standing in the back of the line they asked his uncle to move Emmanuel to the front to stand next to the beautiful girl.
I was not disappointed with Emmanuel, after all he was just a boy like me, or his parents, after all they are just ordinary people, but I was very disappointed with the nun and his uncle the deacon for showing favouritism. There were other incidents that disappointed me. One time in Christmas mass I was sick with the flu and I had asthma so I got up to go outside to catch my breath and go to the washroom. As I opened the side door a priest was walking in so he asked me where I was going, so I explained to him that I was sick and needed some fresh air and he said, “You liar! You probably want to skip mass to hang out with the bad kids!” I was taken back by his comment, first because he accused me of lying which is something I did not do and hated, second he had no reason to assume I was a liar, and third I did my best to avoid bad crowds. I was very disappointed by how unclean the priest’s heart was.
Even though I became more and more disappointed with the Catholic denomination, I actually stayed a very devoted Catholic: I would still pray to the saints and follow the Catholic decrees. Instead, I started crumpling against God, doubted the Bible and especially disliked the Lord Jesus Christ to the point of disliking my name because Fadi means “Saviour” in Arabic! I had two dear friends, Ayad and Furat, who used to always try to restore my faith: they reasoned with me and quoted scripture but nothing helped. I was too stubborn to listen, too blind to see, and too self-righteous to believe—I had made up my mind that God was wrong and I was right, He was the bad guy and I was the good guy. I believed in Him, I just did not like Him!
Not by Works
Around the time of my first communion, my grandmother read the story of Joseph son of Jacob to my sister and me. I was very impressed by Joseph and set him as my role-model (until today) and I became more interested in spirituality, the Bible, and the Christian faith. In summer time I started going to church every morning and confessing my sins until the priest told me to stop confessing my sins every day! I started reading Catholic prayer books and did the Sacred Heart of Jesus month and the Immaculate Heart of Mary month readings and prayers. I reciting those shorts Catholic prayers such as “Holy Mary, pray for us” all the time. I felt peace when I did those religious tasks and felt closer to God.
One Sunday school they were giving New Testaments away so I took one (even though we had half a dozen Bibles at home) just because it had an orange cover and I love the colour orange! Having nothing to do in Iraq’s hot summer afternoons and excited about my orange-cover Bible I started reading the New Testament. A couple of weeks later I asked my grandmother, “What do I have to do to go to heaven?” And she gave me the classic Middle Eastern answer, “When you die God will weigh your good words versus your bad works. If your good works are more than your bad works then you go to heaven. And if your bad works are more than your good works then you go to hell.” That sounded fair to me so I made up my mind that next morning I would be the best righteous Fadi I could be!
The next morning I woke up early because lazy was “bad works”. I helped my sister with cleaning and resisted to rush to the streets to play with my friends, because helping and self-control were “good works”! I prayed my morning prayer and read some Catholic prayer book. I was obedient to my sister and did not give her hard time (probably the hardest thing to resist doing!) I also pushed all evil thoughts away from my mind and asked for forgiveness right away from any evil thought. Everything was going according to plan but by noon I was getting exhausted; a sinful human living a righteous life is as exhausting as if I had tried to live as a pig—it was contrary to my nature so it was a spiritual fight every second of it! But I still “prevailed” until the afternoon when the doorbell rang.
I looked from the kitchen window and saw it was a beggar boy; it was common for beggars in Iraq to go house to house asking for money or food especially in the years of the economic sanctions. Of course on that day I had to outgive myself so I took double the amount of money I usually gave and went outside. It was very sunny and bright and it was hot. I tiptoed so I would not burn my feet because the ground was very hot. I gave the boy the money and quickly looked through the door to see if my friends were outside or not. They were not so I headed back inside.
As I entered the hallway I realized I could not see anything because my eyes had not adjusted yet to the darkness so I thought to myself “Be careful, you don’t want to hit your little toe against the stairwell!” So I slowed my steps down and still could see very little and that is when a verse from the Bible I had read few days ago flashed through my mind. It was Luke 17:7-10:
“Suppose one of you has a servant plowing or looking after the sheep. Will he say to the servant when he comes in from the field, ‘Come along now and sit down to eat’? Won’t he rather say, ‘Prepare my supper, get yourself ready and wait on me while I eat and drink; after that you may eat and drink’? Will he thank the servant because he did what he was told to do? So you also, when you have done everything you were told to do, should say, ‘We are unworthy servants; we have only done our duty.’”
And just like that it occurred me: all my “good” works are not credited to me as righteousness! So I knew then that salvation is not attained by works because good works is my duty! However, I still did not know how to go to heaven!
After that day I stopped trying to live a righteous life by obeying man-made strict religious laws. I was angry that I was given wrong information about how to go to heaven—there is no scale of good versus bad works! And how could my grandmother a devoted Catholic for over 70 years not know that? So I started paying more attention at mass and realized there is no message of how to go to heaven. Most of the time the priest made little sense and talked about things that were irrelevant to my daily life. To make it worse most of the mass rituals were carried out either in Latin or Aramaic and I did not understand either! Also, it seemed that the priest answer to all life problems was: “God wants to test your patience!” Why did this happen to me? “God wants to test your patience!” Why did God say this in the Bible? “You shouldn’t question God. God wants to test your patience!” What does this mean? “God wants to test your patience!”
So I vowed after that day to never trust anyone with any spiritual teaching: I was going to test the faiths to see which one, if any, has any validity. If I found a faith that had any authority to its teachings then I would accept it as the truth and follow it. I did not mind people lying to me or misleading me in trivial matters, but going to hell was serious business—I wanted to know where I went after I died!
The Reality of Death
(Warning: This section is graphic so reader discretion is advised!)
If you live in Iraq you cannot ignore death. Growing up in the 1980s during the Iran-Iraq war I occasionally saw taxis driving by with Iraq flag-covered coffins on top. That did not scare me as it was a common sight. However, three incidents occurred that made me understand that death is real, it is a serious problem, and it is inevitable.
The first incident happened while watching TV at dinner time: the news showed two Iraqi soldiers captured by the Iranians. The first soldier was shot on the spot which kind of fazed me because I was about 7 or 8 years old and had never seen a person killed before, but the second soldier had his hands tied to two Jeeps. One of his arms was severed when the two vehicles moved apart, and he was shot afterwards. I was in shock because I had not known before that humans can be so evil and can inflict such violence and pain on another human. I thought people died peacefully in their sleep!
The second incident happened in 1991 during the Kurdish uprising right after the Gulf War; I was 8 years old. After Iraq’s loss in the Gulf War the Kurds in the north and the Shias in the south were convinced that the Iraqi army was weakened to the point where they can overthrow Saddam Hussein. So the Kurds advanced south toward Baghdad and in the process took control of the city I lived in, Kirkuk. However, a couple of weeks after retreating the army advanced into the city to regain control. One day in the battle between the Iraqi army and the Kurd rebels (known as Peshmerga) I went up to the roof of our house without my mom’s knowledge to see an army helicopter firing its weapons. I did not know at the time that weapons were horrible—I thought weapons were “cool”. There were no deaths in our neighbourhood so I did not give thought to the consequences of war. Not long after the firefight started the army took Kirkuk back and for few days everybody was scared and the streets were quite empty. It was an unusually quiet time for a city that just went through the turmoil of mass looting and a civil war.
Few days after the army recaptured Kirkuk, our neighbour--who lived across the street from our house--wanted to go see his daughter’s family who lived in Arafa (a mostly Christian neighbourhood on the outskirt of Kirkuk) to check on them because there were no phone lines and he was worried about them. His name was Matta (which means Matthew in Arabic) and he was an older man in his 60s or 70s, but because the government car he drove was stolen during the looting he asked if he can fill our car with gas to go see his daughter. My mom agreed (my dad was not home because he had to join the army) and her and I went with him. The streets were quiet but as soon as we reached the main road I saw two bodies covered in blankets. I was taken back by the view of two dead bodies lying on the side walk of the city’s main road. I had been through that street many times, and I never thought I would one day see dead bodies lying on the side walk!
After Matta checked on his family we drove back and a checkpoint was set up at a roundabout so we stopped. As Matta talked to the soldier I looked to my left outside the car window to see a dead young Kurd in the centre of the roundabout. He was may be in his late 20s or early 30s. He had a dark curly hair and dark skin and had facial hair. I do not know how long he was dead for but he was not dead for long even though the blood running from his body was kind of thick and dry. I mostly remember the flies flying in and around his face—and I think this image imprinted this incident in my memory. Because I thought, “How helpless is a dead person? He can’t even shoo away a fly from his face? Is this how I will end up?” The answer was “yes”—that is the fate of all human beings. Death is our biggest problem.
I was 8 years old then so I was not ready to see that but I understood then what death was, and I had never understood what death means before then. I knew when people died they were buried but I did not understand that death is ugly and tragic. For some reason, I kept trying to figure out who the dead young Kurd looked like then I realized he did not look like anyone I had known—he was a unique human being and his death was a loss not only to his loved ones but to humanity as a whole. I also understood that death is an ugly problem every human has to face. I realized when people die they do not just disappear as in action movies—in one scene they are killed and in the next scene they are gone. Death is real, ugly, tragic, and inevitable. I believe that incident trigger me to think about life’s meaning, searching for God, and know my place in the universe. But most importantly I really wanted to know what happens to me after death! I wanted to know if there was something more after life, or a corpse is all I was going to end up as!
The third incident I definitely was not ready for. I was may be 9 or 10 years old when they showed on the news images of the Amiriyah shelter bombing which happened during the Gulf War. The shelter was located in the Amiriyah neighbourhood and it was bombed by two “smart bombs”: the first bomb cut through the 3m of reinforce concrete while the second one went through the hole made by the first bomb. Over 400 civilians, mostly women and children, died. The images shown on TV were graphic: amputated and charred bodies of mothers and children fused together; human skin stuck on walls; burned corpses of screaming victims.
Again I was in shocked of the graphic violence of the incident and I was scared. At night I could not sleep because images of the dead kept flashing in my mind—images of their faces and corpses haunted me. And it was winter time so my mom would turn the electric heater from the evening until morning to warm up the bed room during the night, but I was too scared to uncover myself because of the images of the dead. I could not have a good night sleep because it was too hot to sleep and I was too scared to come out from underneath the blanket! As usual, I never shared my struggles and feelings with anyone. This went on for a couple of months until summer.
After that summer I was never again scared of the dark or death, but death became a reality of life that I could not ignore. Death has its way of maturing a person: you never live life the same after taking death into consideration. So many things and dreams become unimportant and so many things and dreams become important if you only keep in mind that you will die. So knowing who God is, who I am to Him, why He created me, and where I am heading after death became very important topics to me.
A Precious Gift
Around the age of 14 I started to become lonely because as teenagers all my close friends (aged 13 to 17) were interested in doing teenager things but I was never interested in joining them. Suddenly they stopped playing sports and decided to go downtown to chase after girls, which I wanted no part in. They spent time, energy, and money to look their best and buy the latest fashion to impress girls, which did not appeal to me. The summer break and fall of when I was 14 was very depressing; I was alone and the fall weather was gloomy and cloudy with no sun. I spent a lot of time thinking about life and asking: it can’t be that a great God exists but He is not interested in me! It makes no sense for Him to create me and create all those amazing and beneficial things for me then forgets me! There must be more to life than chasing girls and getting the latest in fashion! I know I am going to die but what am I supposed to do with my life in the meantime? And how do I go to heaven?
We only had one complete Bible in our house which belonged to my grandmother and it was a really old book; the other Bibles we had were only the New Testament. My sister wanted to read the Old Testament so she asked our neighbour and my friend, Furat, to get her one. (For some reason the Old Testament was not easily acquired at that time, may be because Iraq is a predominantly Muslim country and the Old Testament is all about God’s chosen people—the nation of Israel.) Furat was active in the church and had many friends so he was able to get a hold of a new copy of the complete Bible. He refused to get paid back for the price of the book (even though 400 dinars at the time was a lot of money)—he said it was a gift. For some reason my sister did not read the Old Testament so I took ownership of it. I started reading it starting with Genesis and I was amazed by it: here was an account of earth and human history from Adam, the first man, to 2,000 years ago! I remember sharing with two of my younger Muslim friends about how amazing the Bible was and they listened, but few weeks later we left Iraq to Jordan.
I cried a lot on the way to Jordan: I missed my home, my friends, my neighbours, and my country. Until that moment in my life Iraq is all I had known. We did not have the Internet so all things I did and knew were Iraqi things done the Iraqi way! We settled in Amman the capitol of Jordan and started our immigration papers to come to Canada where the rest of my mother’s family is. Few months later my aunt’s family joined us in Amman (they were the last family we had in Iraq) to do their immigration papers to go to Sweden where my cousin lives; it was my aunt (my mom’s oldest sister), her husband (who is also my dad’s uncle), and my two cousins. Being the insecure and shy kid I was meant I made no friends in Jordan, and being bitter toward the church meant I did not even go to church with my family. I would watch them take the stairs down to the main road (Amman is built on mountains so there are long stairs wherever you go) but I could never bring myself to go with them. Also, my insecurities and low confidence prevented me from meeting new people and made me feel very uncomfortable in social settings.
I simply stayed home and read the Old Testament for hours every day; I would read over a dozen of chapters every day. I was amazed by the God of the Old Testament and I wanted to become a Jewish Rabbi because I had found the true God! My uncle told me, “Israel has borders with Jordan. It’s not that far if you are serious about becoming a Rabbi!” I liked the God of the Old Testament but I still did not like Jesus Christ; I guess it was Satan’s last efforts to prevent me from getting saved.
Also, because I spent a lot of time by myself I started to realize that my mind and thoughts were always changing (which is a common thing for any human especially a teenager), but I was not reaching a point of knowing. I tried to explain life and live by following rules I had learnt from experiences but my experiences always changed and I always changed so my rules changed and I was again at the start point: Why did this happen? How should I respond to this situation? Is this action right or wrong? I did not know the answers to these questions and more. I was frustrated because my life events had no clear purpose or pattern I could understand and follow. Every time I looked back at myself from a month ago I realized I had yet again changed in no certain direction—I just randomly changed. This pattern of continuous random change scared me: how will I know to make the right decisions in the future if my thoughts keep changing? How will I choose the correct career and wife if I do not know who I am and what I am looking for! It is like trying to measure a length using a ruler that is always changing! Experiences, feelings, opinions and beliefs were not good enough for me: I wanted to know, I wanted truth!
Wrong Attitude
While I was getting all this information about God and how He works from reading the Old Testament, I still had the wrong attitude toward God. One day my sister came back from church and told me how it was wrong to pray to the saint and that was a shocking thing to say to a “devoted” Roman Catholic! I was upset with her words and told her, “How can you say we should not pray to the Virgin Mary?!” As far as I was concerned, what she was saying was sacrilegious! It is sad how I liked Mary, the mother of Jesus, and the other “saints”, but I did not like the Lord Jesus Christ Himself!
One evening in Amman, our neighbour--an Iraqi Catholic named Emad--came to visit us. He was in his 30s and was sitting at the table looking outside the window while I was sitting on a mattress on the floor (we did not have much in Jordan). I was making my case against God, the Lord Jesus Christ, and the Bible—mostly doubts I had heard my dad say (I was not that original!) I kept going on and on but he rarely looked at me and he did not seem fazed by my arguments against God. When I finally finished talking he looked at me and said in a scoffing manner, “So you are telling me that you know better than the Son of God?” WOW! That was all I needed to hear!
First, I shut my mouth because I realized I was “arguing” with a man twice my age which is a shameful thing to do in the Middle East. Second, and most importantly my spirit was quieted because I realized there is a huge problem with my belief system: how could I say that I believe God is great and all-knowing and all-powerful yet claim to know more than Him? How could I trust His knowledge if I knew more than Him? What’s the point of following God if I am smarter than Him? Why would He gives us truth in some things while mislead us in other things? Jesus Chris is the Son of God—I am not fighting against a man but God Himself!
So two things happened that evening: first, I started liking Jesus Christ because I finally understood He deserved the respect I gave the God of the Old Testament because He is the Son of God; second, I stopped questioning God’s Word to prove I am right and God is wrong, and started asking God to explain to me His Word. There is a big difference between the two: questioning comes with the wrong attitude of fighting against God, while asking comes with the right attitude of desiring to know God. On that day I humbled myself and gave God the respect He deserves—I laid down my arrogance and self-centeredness.
So far God had arranged my circumstances and changed me to know He is real, give me enough discernment to know we are not saved by works, gave me time to think about life and death and what happens after death, have knowledge of His Word (especially the Old Testament which I was not familiar with before), quieted my spirit and humbled me, but I still did not know what is the next step. The big questions were always: How do I go to heaven? What does all this mean to me?
Three Books, One Message
My aunt’s family had a Syrian neighbour who was Christian (born-again or not, I do not know) and his immigration papers came to Sweden so he took his family and stuff and immigrated to Sweden but left some things behind. One of the things he left behind were six books (two copies of three books) written by Josh McDowell titled: Evidence That Demands A Verdict, More Than A Carpenter, and Jesus: A Biblical Defense of His Deity. My uncle took one of each copy and gave me the other, so I started reading those books. It all made sense because I had just finished reading the Old Testament and knew the prophecies about Jesus—I finally understood who the Gospel writers were quoting! But I still needed something more to be convinced, more than good arguments and a testimony—I wanted tangible evidence. So what really made an impact on me are these three points:
1) Prophecies. Prophecies are very important because a lot of people can write “holy” books but what prove their authority are prophecies because no one knows the future but God. And this was not one prophecy or two, but hundreds that all came true in one person--the person of Jesus Christ! And they were not some random prophecies that did not have anything to do with each other. No, they were all parts of one plane: God’s plan to save mankind from sin and hell through the death of His Son Jesus Christ. The strange part is that they were written by different men in different places from different times, so how could all these prophecies agree on the message and make so much sense unless they were inspired by God!
Prophecies also give witness to Jesus Christ. So many religions were started by one person with no witnesses to His authority; Jewish law required at least two witness for a trial otherwise it would be one person’s word versus another person’s word. By what authority does a person start a religion? Self-righteousness? One’s own words? Who is to back him up? That is why some religions started by the sword: if people were not convinced by evidence they were persuaded by fear. But that is not how it is with Jesus Christ (apart from His miracles and the Father witnessing to Him) those prophecies witness to Him as the promised coming Saviour. And He did not need to harm anyone for people to follow Him.
2) The character, life, and death of Jesus Christ and His followers. Nothing made sense: why would His disciples die for Him? He did not give them money, fame, or earthly power, or allowed them to have carnal desires, or anything of that nature. On the contrary, they lived difficult lives full of hunger, chased, persecuted, put on trials and executed but still refused to deny Him as their Lord! And Why would He or they die for a lie? Were they crazy or delusional? They did not sound like it! Unless, they saw something supernatural in the person of Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit is real. Nothing else could explain to me their lives. Jesus Christ definitely was not crazy for how can a crazy man teach such noble things? And He definitely was not lying for how can a liar—a sinner--perform miracles?
3) How bizarre is Christianity comparing to all other world religions! Seriously, have you thought about how difficult it is for a dozen of men who lived in different times and places to conspire to write about the same God with the same salvation plan? And what an unlikely story for one person to come up with, yet they all had to agree on the following:
a. God is three Persons in One. Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.
b. The Son of God became a human. That is God in His entire glory and greatness manifest Himself as a human child.
c. The Son of God is born of a virgin! (Do you see now how bizarre it is for a man to come up with this story?)
d. He is born in a manger. He leads a simple and poor life, often times persecuted. (Remember, we are not talking about some monk here, we are talking about God Himself taking a form of a meek human being!)
e. He was a miracle worker to the likes of nobody! He opened the eyes of the blind, raised the dead, and walked on water.
f. Salvation is not by human works but by faith in the Son of God, that is: believing God’s Son died for your sins. (When was the last time you heard of a religion that teaches salvation is not by human good works?) All world religions teach: we must reach up to God—humanly it makes sense! While Christianity teaches that God reached down to us!
g. Not only the Son of God dies but He rose from the dead!
h. His followers will be indwelt by the Holy Spirit who will live the life of Christ through them!
And the list goes on and on—such an unlikely story to be written and die for! I do not know about you but if I made my own religion it would not sound something like this! It would be a simple “do good, go to heaven; do bad, go to hell”. Love those who love you (who teaches to love their enemies and expects large followers?) There is one god made up of one person (so much easier to be accepted than three persons make one God!) And enjoy life on earth as much as you can (power, fame, comfort, all kind of pleasures) because I know the there is no god and no heaven or hell—I made them up!
Christianity’s unusual doctrine and events are not made for the sake of making it a “strange” religion. Each one of these doctrines and events had a purpose and was designed this way. There is a reason for the virgin birth. There is a reason for the death on the cross. There is a reason why the Lord Jesus Christ rose from the dead. There is a reason the Son of God had to die and not somebody else. There is a reason why we cannot gain righteousness by works. And the list goes on and on: everything has a purpose to fulfill God’s divine plan to save mankind.
A lot of religions have very noble and admirable teachings but they still lack authority. You see the problem is that truth is truth: it is not about how much I like it, whether I accept it or not, or I agree with it or not. Jesus Chris is the truth and I could not avoid this fact.
Saved at Last
One day I was laying on a straw carpet close to a window in the afternoon and the sun rays were shinning on me and I was reading the last chapter of the last of the three books. At the end of the book, the author Josh McDowell wrote his own testimony of coming to Christ and his struggle to forgive his old drunkard father prior to coming to Christ. He asked if the reader wanted to give their lives to Jesus Christ and there was a short prayer (also known as the sinner’s prayer) and I desperately needed this 3- 4 years spiritual crisis to be over with because I had made up my mind that Jesus Christ is Lord and Saviour and I need to surrender my life to Him. So I prayed asking God to forgive my sins because I was a sinner and I accepted the death of His Son, Jesus Christ, on the Cross as payment for my sins, and I invited the Holy Spirit into my heart to change me into the likeness of Jesus Christ. For the first two days I was the happiest I had ever been--I felt like I was floating on air; as if the weight of the world was taken off my shoulders!
I did not know what happened to me but I knew few things right away: I was happy and worry free; I had peace and joy; and I started to see things differently. Suddenly I started to know good from evil and it stayed that way--the next day, next week, or next month--the good did not become evil and evil become good. I grew in my knowledge of the truth but the truth never changed.
A couple of months later we immigrated to Canada. In Canada, I still did not know what had just happened to me, and if there were other people out there who had gone through the same experience of salvation. Because I still did not go to church and did not socialize with others, I had no idea what was going on and so I kept praying the sinner’s prayer every day to remind myself that I was saved by faith through God’s grace and not by works. Not long after coming to Canada (may be a year or so) I was watching TV on a Sunday evening when I came across the InTouch program by Dr. Charles Stanley. That is when I understood what happened and I gradually grew in my Christian faith and still growing. One Sunday while I was listening to Charles Stanley on TV my uncle asked me, “Do you really believe in this nonsense?” I simply answered, “Yes, I do.” My uncle’s words and attitude reminded me of myself, not long ago, before coming to Christ: I also was an enemy of Christ, but God in His grace not only sent His Son to die for my sins but also sent the Holy Spirit to draw me to Him so I believe and be saved.
Giving up my Roman Catholic identity was a much harder battle. I still prayed to the Virgin Mary for three years, mainly out of habit, after coming to Christ. Until one day when I realized it was idolatry and had no spiritual value.
The work God had done in my life in the last 15 years and His love and faithfulness are more than I can include here. The testimony you read here is just the beginning because I could write about His love forever.
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Final Words
Here I would to discuss issues that are related to my testimony but I did not include them in the testimony because I did not want to disturb the flow of the story.
The Birthday Incident
I had forgotten about the birthday incident, but about two years ago I prayed, “Lord, why do I hate my birthday? Why don’t I celebrate it like everybody else? Why don’t I like receiving gifts? Why do I always feel guilty and as if I am a burden on others?” A couple of weeks after I prayed that prayer I remembered the birthday incident—it all makes sense now. God has been faithful in every single way. He has been faithful in trying to heal my heart and emotional scars.
Salvation Is God’s Work
Salvation is the work of the Holy Spirit. The Bible says, "No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws them, and I will raise them up at the last day.” (John 6:44) I did not come to Christ through my own intelligence or effort—my testimony is a testimony of God’s faithfulness. When I did not understand He exists and He is great, He showed me His amazing creation. When I did not know where my life was headed, He showed me the reality of death. When I was busy, He provided me with a quiet time and the opportunity to read. When I did not understand who the Lord Jesus Christ is, He gave me the Old Testament to read and understand that Jesus Christ is the promised Messiah. When I had doubts, He gave me books that answered my questions. When I had the wrong heart attitude, He humbled me. When I was too shy to go to church, He reached me through books. When I fought against Him, He was patient because He saw my ignorance and confusion and lovingly led me to become His child. (Romans 2:4)
I would love to tell you that I was this genius kid who had this great spiritual discernment and understood God’s mind! But it was not like this at all! God saw my confusion, took me to a place and a time and patiently waited for me to open my eyes and see, then He did the same thing over and over again until I reached a point where I was ready to accept His Son, Jesus Christ, as my Lord and Saviour! How much more shall I say about God’s goodness and faithfulness?
Everything happened to me was God’s divine work to bring me to Himself through His Son, Jesus Christ. It was not my self-effort—I simply responded to His moves and when I did not He waited and used other methods to reach me. None of the things I mentioned in my testimony can be considered “miraculous”, actually a doubting person can simply look at these events as mere coincidences. However, so many things happen around us are God’s divine work and design but we cease to see them as such—we brushed them off as coincidence. Even painful events God can use for our good. There were many instances before I came to Christ where God worked in my life—not because I was His child but because He wanted to lead me to Himself to become His child.
The sinner’s prayer does not save anyone—the “sinner’s prayer” can simply express the desires of those who are ready to be born-again. Simply asking someone to read the “sinner’s prayer” will do no good if the Holy Spirit has not led that person to the point in their lives where they are ready to repent of their sins and turn to Christ as their only hope of salvation. Also, saying the “sinner’s prayer” is not a proof that someone is saved; the Bible says that the fruit of the Spirit--that is, us abiding in Christ so the Holy Spirit can live Christ’ life through us--is the proof that we are saved.
“And you also were included in Christ when you heard the message of truth, the gospel of your salvation. When you believed, you were marked in him with a seal, the promised Holy Spirit.” (Ephesians 1:13)
None of that “I prayed the sinner’s prayer” or “I felt Goosebumps” is evidence of our salvation. If you have to keep rededicating your life to Christ then maybe you do not want to be part of Christ—may be you are not saved, may be you are not a child of God. I am not saying the sinner’s prayer does not work: what I am saying is that it only works for those who the Holy Spirit has prepared to be born-again.
The Bible says, “Very truly I [Jesus Christ] tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God unless they are born again.” (John 3:3) And in verse 6 it says, “Flesh gives birth to flesh, but the Spirit gives birth to spirit.”
Why did our Lord use the birth experience to explain the born-again experience? Because being born-again is the work of the Spirit—it is not your work and it is not someone else’s work. Others can help the Spirit (just like a doctor and nurses help a pregnant woman), but it is the Spirit who has to do the work (just like it is the mother who has to give birth). And just like there is a nine month period of time for a child to be ready to be born, so there is also a preparation period for our sinful hearts to turn to and accept Christ. A person does not come out of a strip club for a smoke, then you ask him if he wants to go to heaven (who doesn’t?) then ask him to read the sinner’s prayer if he wants to go to heaven, then he goes back to the strip club and does so for the rest of his life and then you declare him to be born-again! It does not work this way!
Remember, it is not your work to save someone else. Often times you are only one link in the process of leading someone to Christ. Do not be discouraged or dishearten if you do not see the fruit of your labour right away; after all, sinners are not rejecting you—they are rejecting Jesus Christ.
"If the world hates you, keep in mind that it hated me first.” (John 15:18)
I thank the Lord that by His grace and mercy He kept giving me chances to come to Him after rebelling against Him for years. Just like He never gave up on me, we should never give up on another person who is so blinded by Satan that he or she cannot see the truth of God’s Word.
The hymn “At Calvary” perfectly explains my salvation experience.
Peace Through Works
Believe it or not, I actually had peace before I came to Christ! It was not permanent and it was not fulfilling. It was peace acquired through doing good works and following decrees; it was peace tied to my performance, feelings, and circumstances. I had peace if I read the Catholic prayer books or read the Immaculate Heart of Mary devotional book. It was a momentary peace tied to my works. The Lord Jesus Christ does not say we will not have peace in this world but that the peace He gives us is different than the world’s peace.
“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.” (John 14:27)
Of course this worldly and work-based peace is very damaging because it deceives us into thinking that we can acquire more peace if we do more good works. So we end up becoming more religious and busier trying to please God all the while we are heading straight to hell. The peace I have now is not based on me or my circumstances—the peace I have now is based on God’s Word. I live by faith knowing that I am saved only because Jesus Christ, the sinless Son of God, paid for my sins on the cross. Nothing can take this away from me. Worldly peace is a counterfeit trying to mimic true peace which is the fruit of the Holy Spirit through abiding in Christ, but it will never be able to withstand trials and the test of time.
Satan will give you his version of peace--actually he will give you anything--to keep you away from Christ. The worldly peace I had was misleading: it misled me into believing I could have peace apart from Christ, and it misled me into thinking I could approach God my way.
Approaching God
The problem we have is not that we do not know God, but that God does not know us! If I went to the White House asking to see the president of the United States telling the guards that I knew him, will the guards let me in? Of course not! For me to get in the guards have to first verify if the president knows me! We have not separated ourselves from God; no, He separated Himself from us! He is the one who banished Adam and Even from the Garden of Eden—they did not leave voluntary! He is the one who has problem with sin because He is the Holy and Righteous one; we are sinners—sin is what we do, we love it!
If I am a man who wants to ask a lady’s hand in marriage then I have to meet her requirements and the requirements of her parents. Why is that? Because I am the one who wants to marry her and so I have to measure up to her expectations of being a godly husband and father and a leader and protector of the family. Therefore, I cannot approach her my way—I cannot offer what I want to offer. No, I have to approach her the way she expects and offers her what she wants! It is the same thing when we approach God: we have to approach Him the way He says is acceptable to Him and that is through His Son Jesus Christ.
In all religions God forgives by forgetting; that is, God’s mercy is not balanced by His justice. His justice book is not balanced—it does not add up to zero! Our sins are somehow forgiven but are not paid for! In Christianity God forgives by placing the punishment for sin on His Son Jesus Christ. His justice and requirement punishment for sin, namely death, is balanced by the death of His Son. God’s holiness, justice, mercy, and love are all satisfied. His justice book is balanced because Jesus paid it all!
In all religions God is holy and hates sin but He is not so holy and hates sin to the degree where He can’t just forget about it! If you do a bit of this and that and ask for forgiveness then He is merciful and will just forgive you! But in Christianity God is so holy and hates sin so much that there is no way He is just forgetting about it—justice must be served and the punishment for sin is death! He is infinitely holy and we are infinitely sinful, therefore, we are infinitely separated from Him. But He is also infinitely merciful and loving and to save us He sent His only begotten Son, the sinless Jesus Christ, to die for our sins. This way His justice is satisfied because sin’s death punishment is satisfied through the Cross, and the infinite gap between sinful man and holy God is spanned. It is not only spanned but God came to live inside man through the person of the Holy Spirit!
“For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.” (John 3:16)
“For the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.” (Romans 6:23)
“…the Spirit of truth...lives with you and will be in you.” (John 14:17)
Not Blind Faith
I do not like the phrase “blind faith”. I actually had not heard of this phrase until I came to Canada! I do not like the phrase because I do not agree with it. To agree with it is to say that God is unwise, unreasonable, and scared!
God knows that there are many beliefs and religions out there, so if He did not give us enough evidence of who He is and His plan then we would not be able to discern which prophet is sent from Him and which is not! Which faith is true and which is not! They all cannot be true because they have conflicting teachings! All gods cannot be the One true God! It would be unwise of Him not to give us evidence of His truth when He knows we could easily follow the wrong faiths. And it would be unreasonable of Him to not to give us reasonable proofs of His identity and will and still expect us to know Him and obey Him! Unless He is scared that we find out He is not real! May be He is keeping us at bay because He does not want us to discover the reality that He does not exist! Growing up in the Roman Catholic denomination I had a feeling that God was very insecure, so you can imagine my shock when I read Malachi 3:10 in the Old Testament, “Test me in this," says the LORD Almighty!
The reason I am bringing this up is that our faith should not be a blind faith—it must be built on a foundation. Sometimes in life when we go through trials and pain we have to preserve through faith—you may call it “blind” faith—but how do you know the Bible is God’s Word? I will go back to the three points that convinced me of the authority of the Bible and that Jesus Christ is the Son of God.
Suppose I told you, “Our friend Chris will come in a rental car” and he shows up in a rental car, what would the first thing you would ask? It would be, “How did you know?” Why? Because you know that the chances of me guessing accurately on that day Chris will show up in a rental car are very slim. Now suppose I also said, “Christ will show up in a yellow shirt” and he does, now you know that I did not simply guess but I knew these things! It is the same with prophecies: they are God’s way of wanting us to know who is sent by Him and who is not because we know that no one knows the future but Him—it is not blind faith if you know!
For the sake of the argument, let us assume that Jesus Christ had planned to fulfill some prophecies to impersonate the coming Messiah, namely: to die on the cross. How did he manage to plan the prophecies concerning His birth? Let us assume His disciples lied in the gospels about Him fulfilling His birth prophecies. Why would they die for a lie? Not only they would have died for a lie, but they gained nothing a human would want in return: long comfortable life, wealth, power and fame. They received none of that! Jesus Christ promised them two things: eternal life and persecution! Eternal life they could not see but persecution was very much real! To make their story even more bizarre they were not only following but also worshipping who in public opinion was a convicted and executed criminal! When was the last time the idea of worshiping an executed criminal appealed to you? Exactly! They saw and experienced someone very real--the Son of God and the Holy Spirit—to give up everything including their lives for this God!
Personal testimony is good but I wanted to base my faith on more than stories. I am sorry to word it this way, I am not trying to dismiss testimonies—they are the work of God—otherwise I would not have written my testimony. But I understood that people are emotional creatures and anything could change us, I knew that first hand because my thoughts were always changing. If someone told you his testimony of how boxing changed his life, how he was a street kid but now he has a purpose and stays away from bad influence, does this make boxing a religion or his trainer a prophet? Of course not! Testimonies are good to strengthen our faith, but not to base our faith on them because for every Christian testimony I can bring you a testimony of someone of a different religion. God wants us to know!
Why Christ?
I often asked myself: Why did I doubt the Bible? And why did I hate the Lord Jesus Christ? If I was disappointed with the Roman Catholic denomination, then why did I not hate being a Roman Catholic? If I was disappointed with the priest who called me a liar, then why did I not hate him? If I was disappointed with the nun who moved me to the last row at my first communion, then why did I not hate her? If the teachings and decrees of the Roman Catholic denomination did not make sense to me, then why did I not hate those teachings? Why did I not hate Moses, or King David, or Elijah, or the apostle Paul? If I had doubts, why did I not doubt God’s existence? Why did I not doubt the teachings of the Roman Catholic denomination? Why did I instead hate the person of Jesus Christ and doubt God’s Word?
The answer is simple: Satan blinded me and focused my doubts on God’s Word and turned my disappointments as hatred toward the Lord Jesus Christ because Satan knew that God’s Word can lead me to Jesus Christ who can save me. Satan did not care if I was a devoted Roman Catholic or not. Satan did not care if I believed in God, a god, or gods. The Bible says, “You believe that there is one God. Good! Even the demons believe that--and shudder.” (James 2:19)
These things do not save me! What saves us from our sins is faith in Jesus Christ as the Son of God and His death on the Cross as payment for our sins. How do we come to this knowledge? Through God’s Word! And that is why Satan is willing to give us everything else but knowledge of God’s Word and faith in the Lord Jesus Christ as Lord and Saviour.
Death
When I came to Canada at the age of 15 I was surprised that Canadians live as if they are not going to die: they live only for this world and for now.
The objective is not to focus on death--death is only a gateway--but to focus on our lives after death. Not long ago my 11 years old nephew told me about all those things he wants to accomplish when he grows up—things the world is concerned with—and how he would retire as a rich old man. So I asked him, “And then?” He thought about it for a second then answered, “I guess I die.” I asked him again, “And then?” And he looked baffled because he had thought of everything except death and he definitely did not think about eternity. He made the classical error of seeing death as an end when in reality it is the beginning. Satan distracts us with so many present worldly things just so we do not plan for eternal heavenly glory!
If we remember every morning that one day we will die then we will be more focused spiritually and make decisions with eternity in mind. Praying, giving, serving, forgiving, and loving will become our priority.
The Difference
So how am I different now than before coming to Christ? Well, I am saved now and have the Holy Spirit and God is working in me, through me, and in my life. But also God addressed my problems.
Do I still have trichotillomania? Yes, I do. It is not as bad as before and I have learned not to focus on it. Satan wants us to focus on our problems—whether big or small—but the Lord has taught me to focus on Him so I do not miss His plan for my life. Do I still have low self-confidence? Yes, I do. However, I have learned to be confident in the Lord. Before I could not make decisions because I had no self-confidence and no other source of confidence, but now I have the Lord as my source of confidence. The good part is that I am always drawing closer to Him because I know I will not be able to function and make important decisions without Him; this way I also know those decisions will be blessed because their source was Him. Do I still feel anxious in a crowd? Yes, but now I can have courage in Him. Just like He replaced my low self-confidence with His sufficient confidence, He also replaced my anxiety with His sufficient courage.
Am I still shy and feel awkward in social settings? Yes. But I learned that God can use us different ways: maybe I do not have what it takes to stand in front of a crowd and talk, but I can write! Not everyone comes to faith by hearing—some, like me, come to faith by reading! God does not see my shyness as a problem, after all He created me and He knows I am an introvert. Personality traits are not a sin: being funny versus serious is not a sin, being an introvert versus extrovert is not a sin, being talkative versus quiet is not a sin, excelling in math versus the arts is not a sin! He created every one of us to be unique, to fulfill a certain purpose in His plan to preach the gospel to the lost. Sin is a problem, shyness is not—not once did the Holy Spirit convict me of my shyness as being a sin! He did not solve my shyness problem because to Him it is not a problem.
Do I still feel guilty over past sins and do I still feel stupid? Yes, sometimes I do. Satan would bring something silly that happened in my childhood to mind to make me feel guilty or stupid, and the Holy Spirit would always remind me that I am forgiven by the blood of Jesus Christ and I have a new identity in Him. Those feelings and thoughts do not hinder me: I can confront them now with God’s truth and quickly move on. As many times as Satan attacks me I keep reminding myself that the war has been won 2,000 years ago at Calvary and Satan is just trying to win a pity battle here and there. There is nothing Satan can do to send me to Hell, but he sure will try to make me ineffective for God’s Kingdom.
Am I still searching for the truth? No, I found Him who is the truth. Does a runner keep running after reaching the finish line? Of course not! Before coming to Christ my thoughts were always changing: my thoughts were going in random circles toward no clear end. But now my thoughts are growing and being build up to know more of His truth. While I am still learning and growing, the knowledge the Holy Spirit taught me is not obsolete, on the contrary He is building my current knowledge on the previous lesson He taught me. My thoughts and knowledge are growing toward more of His truth; these are not some baseless thoughts with my ever-changing experiences as their reference. No, these are God’s truths written in His Word and carried out in my life.
The hymn “It Is Well with My Soul” best describes my Christian walk.
Lastly but Not Least
I am still friends with Ayad and Furat. In fact, they both now live in Toronto as I do! It is strange how 20 years ago they preached to me but now I preach to them the Good News of salvation by faith alone!
One day in Amman a tailor lady told my mom, “Why isn’t your son enrolled in school here? You don’t know how long you will stay in Jordan. Don’t waste his youth—let him continue his education here!” I often reflect back on those words: how many of us, with good intentions, give similar advice? Imagine if I had gone to school for that one year we spent in Jordan: imagine how busy I would have been, imagine how little time I would have had to read God’s Word, reflect on it, and read those evangelical books. Often times we try to help others but in reality we are interfering with God’s work. Give God the space and time to do His work—trust Him. He has never ever let me down. I was delayed a year in high school, so what? I gained eternal life instead! Do not rush God’s work; not everyone has to graduate from high school at the age of 18, go to university and graduate at the age of 22, find an office job and get married at the age of 26!
I will leave you with Proverbs 3:5-6:
“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight.”
(Toronto, ON; winter 2015.)
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Maroc 1913 (ou tout début 1914). A gauche de la photo : Etienne Menjoulet avec un ami, Victor (à droite). Victor Estève était le patron (puis collègue) du jeune Etienne, qui était apprenti-charpentier.
Photo prise à Casablanca sans doute. On voit un canon, en arrière-plan. En effet, le Maroc était, depuis la convention de Fès du 30 mars 1912, un "protectorat" tout récent.
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Concernant la vie de mon grand-père Etienne, j'ai écrit la petite biographie qui suit à partir de différents récits de mémoire familiale :
Etienne Menjoulet
Charpentier, né en 1899. Il grandit à Barbaste (sud-ouest de la France).
Son prénom d’Etat civil était Gustave, mais il n’aimait pas ce prénom et se fit toujours appeler Etienne.
Bon élève à l'école, il passa son certificat d'étude et le Brevet et commença à travailler, comme tous ses aïeux, en tant qu'apprenti charpentier (période de son premier séjour au Maroc en 1913-1914).
Charpentiers depuis la nuit des temps
Etienne Menjoulet fut le dernier charpentier d'une très très longue lignée de charpentiers. Mes recherches sur mes ancêtres Menjoulet et sur les charpentiers du sud-ouest de la France m’ont conduite à me pencher sur l’histoire des « cagots », dont je suis quasiment certaine que les Menjoulet de Barbaste/Nérac en étaient des descendants directs (même s’il n’y a pas de mémoire familiale de cette origine « cagote », oubli sans doute souhaité dès le 18e siècle). Jusqu’au 18ème siècle, tous les charpentiers du sud-ouest étaient des « cagots » de génération en génération. Dans chaque village du sud-ouest, la ou les maisons de charpentiers étaient tenues à l’écart, les cagots étaient considérés par les paysans de ces régions comme des « mauvais chrétiens » atteints d’une « lèpre intérieure », c’était une caste d’intouchables.
Le siècle suivant cette longue période, au 19ème siècle, le grand-père d’Etienne, Jean Menjoulet, maître charpentier, franc-maçon, épousa une jeune-fille de la région, Anne Boustens. et eu 3 fils qu’il nomma Edward, Edgard et Ancel. La consonance des 3 prénoms avait été choisie pour faire "chier" le curé. Les prénoms anglo-saxons s'inspiraient par ailleurs de la loge maçonnique londonienne de leur père, Jean Menjoulet. Ce dernier partit ensuite (pour des raisons sans doute de nécessité financière) exercer son métier au Mozambique (alors colonie portugaise), laissant sa femme et ses fils Edward, Ancel et Edgard à Barbaste en France. Jean Menjoulet, qui vivait en dernier lieu dans le district de Manica, au Mozambique, fut tué à 45 ans à Beira (ville portuaire du Mozambique) en 1891.
Son fils Edgard, né en 1872, futur père d’Etienne, devint charpentier, il épousa en 1898 Marie Menjoulet/Lescouzère, une jeune fille de la région, de famille paysanne. Etienne naquit l’année suivante, en 1899. Ses parents émigrèrent en Argentine vers 1907, avec leurs deux plus jeunes fils (André, dit Lou Peliou, né en 1905 et Claude, bébé) et leur fille, Paule, laissant leur fils aîné Etienne, 7 ans, seul en France chez une tante, « bouchonnière » de métier (fabrication de bouchons de liège).
Etienne connut une enfance très pauvre (on peut penser que sa petite taille était liée à une alimentation très frugale dans son enfance, et comme d'autres enfants de sa génération, son cadeau de noël chaque année de son enfance consistait en une orange).
Apprenti-charpentier au Maroc, Etienne Menjoulet avait 15 ans en août 1914. Le temps d’atteindre l’âge du service, il fut appelé sous les drapeaux alors que la guerre avait déjà bien commencé. Lors de la visite médicale vers 1917, le médecin dit en le voyant arriver "mais voilà un petit chasseur" (il était petit mais musclé), mais il fut affecté en fin de compte chez les sapeurs-mineurs (comme beaucoup d'artisans). Le temps qu'il finisse sa préparation militaire, l'armistice arriva vite, ce qui lui permit de réchapper à l'hécatombe et de ne guère mettre en pratique sa formation à la guerre, notamment l'entraînement de combat à la baïonnette qui lui avait paru extrêmement barbare (mais il n'aurait pas reculé si la guerre ne s'était pas terminée). Sans doute cet entraînement intensif aux combats à la baïonnette était prévu pour des combats dans les galeries de mines où étaient envoyés les sapeurs-mineurs. Son service militaire se prolongea bien après 1918.
La formation professionnelle d’Etienne Menjoulet se poursuivra après la Grande Guerre, dans une société de type compagnonnique en tant que « Renard Joyeux Libre et Indépendant sur le Tour de France ». Athée et Indifférent aux religions, comme ses aïeux, il ne prolongea pas la tradition familiale de franc-maçonnerie (dans une loge anglaise, dans laquelle un de ses aïeux avait d’ailleurs été un dirigeant). Il refusa l’initiation maçonnique pour ne pas promettre sans savoir de quoi il en était, puisqu'il n'était pas informé avant d'être introduit. Dans ce sens, son choix d'une association alternative aux « compagnons du devoir » et aux « compagnons du devoir de liberté », s'inscrivait sans doute dans le même esprit : refus des mythologies. Pas de rites religieux, pas de rites maçonniques et pas de rites compagnonniques. Les « Renards Joyeux Libres et Indépendants sur le Tour de France » s'étaient en effet créés par opposition aux compagnons Soubises (compagnons du Devoir) et Indiens (compagnons du Devoir de Liberté) dans un esprit qui rejetait les rites quels qu’ils soient.
La langue natale d’Etienne Menjoulet était le patois gascon et le Français. Il parlait couramment les deux langues, le gascon comme le français (il continuait à parler en patois avec sa seconde femme dans les années 1950). Son père Edgard et ses oncles Ancel et Edward avaient été battus par leur instituteur lorsqu'ils parlaient patois, y compris en récréation, mais la langue continuait d'être parlée, dans l'entre-soi, une génération après.
Plus tard, au Maroc Etienne chantait souvent des chansons en patois en conduisant, jusque dans les années 1950, pour ne pas s’endormir au volant, lors de longues heures sur les routes en camionnette. Quand il ne chantait pas en patois, Etienne demandait à l'ouvrier marocain qui l'accompagnait de lui raconter des histoires pour le tenir éveillé. Et l’ouvrier se défendait souvent en disant « mais qu’est-ce que tu veux que je te raconte ?! ».
Etienne fit donc son tour de France (autour de 1923) en tant que "Renard libre joyeux et indépendant" (rattaché à Lyon-Vaise, où siégeaient d’ailleurs également les compagnons du devoir) . Les "Renards" étaient en rivalité avec les sociétés compagnonniques. Au début des années 1920, cette rivalité ne donnait pas lieu à des bagarres, mais lorsqu'un Renard (comme Etienne Menjoulet) passait par des ateliers où avaient travaillé des compagnons de sociétés rivales, il commençait par nettoyer tous les instruments, établis, etc. et à tout bien tout essuyer pour ne pas avoir à toucher ce qui avait été manipulé par les membres des deux sociétés rivales.
Au cours de son tour de France, Etienne eut des liaisons avec des femmes, mais sa rencontre sérieuse fut avec Marie-Louise Bongard, une jeune fille de la Nièvre, fille d’agriculteurs (père lorrain), de religion catholique. Marie-Louise était fille unique, et comme beaucoup de filles d’agriculteurs de la « belle-époque », elle avait été « placée » à Paris comme bonne. Elle rencontra Etienne à Paris, sans doute au cours d’un bal, et ce placement ne dura donc pas. Marie-Louise épousa Etienne à la mairie. Pour l’église, Etienne resta à l'extérieur de l'église même pour son mariage, et il négocia avec sa femme l’accord suivant : leurs enfants seraient seulement baptisés, ils n'auraient aucune éducation religieuse.
Après quelques mois en Normandie (fin de tour de France du ccompagnon Etienne, sans doute), n'en pouvant plus de la pluie incessante de cette région (d'autant plus gênante avec son métier), il alla s'installer avec sa femme au Maroc, à Casablanca, en tant que charpentier.
Son ancien patron d'apprentissage, Estève, devint son associé. Il retrouva, à Casablanca, son oncle Ancel (ferronnier, qui habita pendant un temps à Casablanca avec sa femme) puis son frère André et son père Edgard (tous deux avaient d'abord émigré en Argentine, mais Edgard s'était séparé de sa femme. Marie Menjoulet/Lescouzere (mère d'Etienne, couturière) était restée en Argentine, avec leur fille Paule (et soeur d'Etienne) et leur fils Claude pendant que le père et l'autre fils, André, rejoignaient le Maroc. Etienne en voulait beaucoup à sa mère, considérant qu'elle l'avait abandonné dans son enfance. Mais sachant que le père d'Etienne, Edgard, avait le défaut d'être très "coureur" (il est mort de la Syphilis en 1945), on peut penser que la mère d'Etienne, Marie, avait des raisons de vouloir se séparer d'Edgard. Ma bisaïeule Marie Menjoulet/Lescouzère est morte en Argentine dans les années 1940. Edgard , quant à lui, vivait au Maroc en concubinage avec une femme de Casablanca (dont je n’ai pas le nom, je sais simplement qu’elle était juive).
Leur fille Paule, soeur d'Etienne, établie en Argentine, se maria avec un Argentin d'origine française, Pierre Sendon, et son frère (et frère d'Etienne), Claude, émigra de l’Argentine aux Etats-Unis. Paule rendit visite à ses frères au Maroc, Etienne et André, au moins une fois.
Au Maroc, Etienne et Marie-Louise eurent d’abord deux garçons (André né en 1925, et Georges, né en 1929).
Lors du déclenchement de la seconde guerre mondiale, Etienne (bien établi à Casablanca), est à nouveau appelé sous les drapeaux, à 40 ans. Il passe une année militaire à Mazagan (El Jadida), grade de caporal. Son dernier fils, Jean, naît le 13 mai 1940.
Son fils aîné, André, sera très grièvement blessé en 1944 lors d'un accident à la fin de sa formation d'aviateur, quelques jours avant qu'il passe d'aspirant à pilote de guerre. André avait 19 ans, il sera hospitalisé durant deux ans et demi à l'hôpital militaire de Rabat où il subit plus de 20 opérations.
Etienne Menjoulet aimait son métier de charpentier, il passait beaucoup de temps dans son bureau au Maroc, à sa table de dessin. Et n'hésitait pas à montrer aux architectes, calculs à l'appui, les erreurs qu'ils commettaient et qui compromettaient la stabilité des constructions si les plans n'étaient pas modifiés.
Etienne avait appris à parler très bien l'arabe. Leurs amis marocains du bled (avec qui ils faisaient notamment beaucoup de parties de chasse, lui et son frère André) ne parlaient pas français. Par ailleurs, dans son travail, avec sa dizaine d'ouvriers, il était nécessaire de savoir parler la langue du pays. Ses fils nés au Maroc parlaient couramment arabe (André et Georges, les deux aînés), ou avaient un niveau plus moyen pour le plus jeune (Jean).
Etienne avait par ailleurs refusé, au lendemain de la guerre, suite à l'arrivée des Américains au Maroc de signer des contrats avec eux, jugeant que ces constructions auraient dénaturé son métier : les américains apportaient des techniques de construction industrielles, clef en main, où la compétence du métier ne comptait plus. Etienne fit donc un choix, il renonça à la fortune que lui auraient apportée ces contrats en or avec les Américains, en disant aux américains d'aller voir ailleurs. Mais il garda ce qui était sa valeur réelle, le métier en lui-même.
Etienne pouvait aussi être teigneux ou coléreux, que ce soit, anecdotiquement, vis à vis de rats qui pouvaient s'introduire dans son bureau (qu'il tuait alors à coups de pieds) ou de gens, s'il y avait conflit.
Au niveau de son métier de charpentier, l'œuvre d'Etienne Menjoulet est très diversifiée : clochers d'Eglise, charpentes de maisons, charpente d’usines, charpentes de grands entrepôts.... (liste à faire). Il procédait aussi à des rénovations d’ailleurs.
Au niveau loisirs, les photos de cette collection attestent qu'Etienne aimait beaucoup la chasse, jusqu'à la fin de sa vie. Et que ce goût était partagé par son frère André qui était aussi un grand chasseur. Ces chasses se faisaient au cours de longues marches au Maroc, dans le bled, par une chaleur écrasante. Le gibier, lièvres, perdreaux, cailles, pigeons ramiers (palombes) était ensuite partagé. La compagne d’Edgard, le père d’Etienne et André, fut une fois amenée à partager la chasse ramenée par André à leur père. Elle garda pour eux les meilleurs morceaux et transmis à André les moins bons morceaux pour Etienne, en lui disant « c’est pour Etienne, il aime les têtes ! ». Ce qui ne la rendit pas du tout sympathique à Etienne, qui par ailleurs, anticlérical, n’avait pas d’atomes crochus avec les croyances juives de la compagne de son père.
En France, dans les années 1910, puis dans les années 1960, Etienne pratiquait aussi la chasse au filet (ortolans) répandue dans le sud-ouest.
Etienne aimait par ailleurs les chiens. Il y en avait toujours plusieurs à la maison, et qui n’étaient pas que des chiens de chasse, mais aussi de compagnie. Au Maroc, Etienne et son frère André pouvaient être un peu durs avec leurs chiens, ils leur tiraient par exemple du petits plombs dans l’arrière train (sans trop les blesser apparemment), si les chiens n’obéissaient pas durant la chasse. Mais Etienne portait aussi secours à ses chiens si nécessaire. Son fils Jean se rappelle de l’un d’eux , un petit épagneul breton nommé Kiss, qui se fit un jour éventrer de bas en haut du corps par un molosse du voisinage (en un coup de croc). Alors que les boyaux du chien lui sortaient du ventre, Etienne demanda du gros fil et une grosse aiguille. Il remit à pleine main les boyaux dans le ventre de Kiss sous le regard horrifié de son fils Jean, et recousit le ventre du malheureux épagneul. Et le chien guérit et vécut normalement ensuite.
Au Maroc, les parties de chasse d’André et Etienne étaient pratiquées avec des amis français ou marocains. Les noms de ces amis qui sont restés en mémoire sont ceux de deux frères (des marocains de Casablanca), les Djilali (dont l’un, le plus proche d’eux, est mort brutalement en 1941 d'une crise cardiaque).
Peu de temps avant le déclenchement de la guerre en 1940, ces parties de chasse donnèrent lieu à un grave accident dont fut victime le frère d'Etienne, André, lors d'une partie de chasse commune. André s'était sans doute avancé brusquement dans la zone de tir d'Etienne sans être vu par ce dernier qui le blessa à la tête dans un tir le rendant presque aveugle pendant de nombreuses années. Les deux frères restèrent proches en dépit de cet accident. André ne se fit opérer que lorsqu’il fut vieux, l’opération risquant de le rendre complètement aveugle, alors qu’il voyait encore des ombres. L’opération réussit.
Etienne déménagea en 1946 avec sa famille, ils quittèrent le centre (européen) de Casablanca pour rejoindre un quartier de la périphérie/banlieue de Casablanca (à un kilomètre de la gare), quartier mixte, un peu industriel mais aussi résidentiel, avec certaines maisons élégantes. Cela permit à Etienne d'avoir un hangar de bonne taille pour son travail.
Etienne Menjoulet avait de nombreuses relations amicales françaises et marocaines. Son fils Jean, qui dormait dans le salon, se rappelle qu'il y avait très souvent du monde le soir chez eux, dans les années 1950, mais que cela ne l'empêchait pas de dormir, dans la même pièce.
Marie-Louise, la première femme d'Etienne Menjoulet, mourut en 1949 des suites d'une longue maladie qui dura des années et la paralysa progressivement jusqu'à l'étouffement. Le mal s'était déclenché à la suite d'une blessure avec un objet métallique, une pédale de vélo. Son fils Jean se souvient encore, près de 70 ans après, des longs moments qu’il passait dans la chambre de sa mère alitée, alors qu’il avait 7 ou 8 ans. Pour distraire sa mère immobilisée, il lui passait, en 78 tours, les disques qu’elle aimait, les valses viennoises, Berthe Sylva (les roses blanches…), Tino Rossi, et bien d’autres. A sa mort, bien qu'anticlérical, Etienne fit venir dans leur maison un curé pour l'extrême-onction de sa femme qui était catholique (il était bien-sûr hors de question pour Etienne d'aller à une messe). Lorsque le curé demanda de "l'eau bénite", Etienne lui dit de prendre l'eau du robinet. Marie-Louise fut enterrée à Casablanca. Son petit garçon, Jean, demanda à son père Etienne ce qu’il était advenu de sa mère qui avait disparu, Etienne lui répondit « Ta mère, elle pourrit sous terre ! » (réponse qui a de quoi traumatiser un enfant, mais des paroles sans doute plus dues à la tristesse qu’à la méchanceté).
Après le départ de la famille Menjoulet en 1962, la tombe de Marie-Louise fut préservée (son fils Jean avait donné de l’argent à un Marocain pour qu’il garde un œil dessus...). La tombe était encore en place dans les années 1980.
A propos de l'eau, pour la vie quotidienne, dans les années 1940-1950, l'eau courante était froide, la baignoire était chauffée au bois, cette charge de chauffer la baignoire pour des bains une fois par semaine était assignée au plus jeune fils, Jean. Ce bois que se procurait facilement Etienne, par son travail, était aussi utilisé en hiver pour l'unique cheminée qui se situait dans le salon/salle à manger).
Les Menjoulet étaient aussi équipés d’un téléphone, dès les années 1940. Téléphone nécessaire au travail d’Etienne, téléphone dont son fils Jean se rappelle encore le numéro, 70 ans après.
Suite au - long - décès de Marie-Louise, le petit Jean, âgé de 9 ans, alla vivre un an chez ses oncle/tante André et Julienne Menjoulet, à Casablanca (qui avaient deux enfants, Andrée 15 ans, et Jean-Louis 5 ans).
C’est au cours de cette période que Jean se rappelle d’une visite du boxeur Marcel Cerdan chez son oncle André (qui était président du club de football de Casablanca, un club de foot mixte, composé de Marocains et d’Européens). Jean ne se rappelle plus des détails du repas, simplement que sa cousine l’a appelé alors qu’il jouait dehors, en lui disant que Marcel Cerdan était chez eux. Cette visite de Marcel Cerdan aux Menjoulet eu d’ailleurs lieu peu de temps avant la mort du boxeur dans son accident d’avion.
Etienne Menjoulet quant à lui se remaria au Maroc avec Jeanne Sansot, une femme originaire de la même région du Lot-et-Garonne que lui, qu'il connaissait depuis l'enfance (même école à Barbaste) et qui avait déjà vécu en Algérie. Elle était veuve après que son mari et son fils se soient suicidés (pour une même femme). Elle laissa alors à sa fille Linette le café-restaurant dont elle était la patronne, en France dans la région de Nérac pour venir vivre au Maroc. Elle embarqua avec elle sa « marraine » (une grand-mère de sa famille, qui vécut donc ensuite plus de 10 ans chez Etienne et Jeanne). Sa fille Linette (avec son mari Gérard) hébergeât quant à elle son autre grand-mère, pendant plus de 10 ans également. Au Maroc, Jeanne s'occupa aussi, et très bien, comme si elle était sa mère, du dernier fils d'Etienne, Jean, qui la considérait comme sa (seconde) mère et l’appelait « Tante Jeanne ».
En France, le café de Jeanne fut donc repris par sa fille, Linette, qui avait vécu quant à elle auparavant en Tunisie. Linette abandonna l’activité de restauration pour se consacrer avec ce café à l’organisation de bals qui connurent un grand succès qui dura. Les gens de toute la région y venaient, et des chanteurs de variétés y furent invités pour des concerts alors qu’ils étaient inconnus et à leurs débuts (Francis Cabrel par exemple).
Au Maroc, les affaires professionnelles d'Etienne Menjoulet, à Casablanca, furent impactées par la situation du pays. Les années précédant la fin du protectorat s'étant traduites, au niveau contrats de construction par une chute des commandes. En revanche, pour la vie quotidienne, les marocains de son entourage (ses ouvriers…) lui avaient assuré qu'il ne courait aucun risque, qu'il pouvait garer sa camionnette dans la médina, que l'on reconnaîtrait sa plaque d'immatriculation et que l'on ne ferait pas sauter son véhicule.
Les deux fils aînés d’Etienne s’étaient mariés : André, se maria deux fois, d’abord avec Claudette, puis avec Lore, une Autrichienne de Salzbourg qui travaillait dans le tourisme, il se sépara d’ailleurs ensuite à nouveau, mais beaucoup plus tard. Georges quant à lui se maria avec Lydia, ce qui le brouilla avec son frère André, Lydia étant précédemment en couple avec André. Les deux frères ne se reparlèrent plus.
Jean, le plus jeune fils d’Etienne se rappelle d’une réception donnée par l’entreprise pour laquelle travaillait sa belle-sœur […laquelle ?]. Il s’agissait d’une entreprise (française) qui soutenait l’indépendance. Le futur roi du Maroc (Hassan II alors prince héritier), était invité à cette réception. Jean fut frappé par l’élégance (élégance vestimentaire et verbale) de Moulay Hassan qu’il vit à quelques mètres de lui.
Etienne Menjoulet n'était pas engagé politiquement, ce qui ne l'empêchait pas d'avoir des jugements critiques, que ce soit vis à vis "des gros" (comme on disait à l'époque pour décrire les gros capitalistes), ou inversement vis à vis des partis de gauche ou des syndicalistes (surtout du fait que, à ses yeux, ces derniers n'avaient pas de légitimité, ils ne travaillaient pas).
Etienne Menjoulet a quitté le Maroc en 1962 pour s'installer dans le sud-ouest de la France (Barbaste/Durance/Nerac), avec sa seconde femme, Jeanne qui est morte 4 ans plus tard, en 1966, d'un cancer foudroyant.
Entre 1958 et 1962, les 3 fils d'Etienne ont aussi quitté le Maroc.
Le plus jeune, Jean, sera d'abord hébergé chez son frère aîné Georges, et sa femme Lydia, à Lyon où ils s'étaient installés dans un petit appartement, Georges et sa femme décidèrent ensuite d'émigrer en Australie, un pays de cocagne à cette époque. Leur installation et vie se passa très bien là-bas, mais malheureusement ils moururent assez jeunes, quand ils eurent la cinquantaine, au début des années 1980, suite à des accidents cardio-vasculaires.
André (l’aîné des 3 fils d'Etienne et Marie-Louis) ira quant à lui d'abord travailler à Lyon en France comme cadre dans une brasserie avant de tout plaquer pour se consacrer à sa passion, la voile (avec peu d'argent de côté, mais il touchait aussi une petite pension militaire parce que grièvement blessé en 1944). André fera le tour du monde en solitaire à 58 ans, il vivra le reste du temps dans le sud de la France avec ses compagnes successives, et mourra en 1996 en regrettant de ne pas atteindre l’an 2000.
Le frère d'Etienne, André et sa femme Julienne, sont également allés vivre en France, ainsi que leur fils Jean-Louis, à Nîmes. Seule leur fille Andrée (et Tony son mari espagnol, un franc-maçon communiste) est restée vivre au Maroc où elle a pu négocier, en tant qu'institutrice, de travailler pour l'éducation marocaine (et d'être payée par eux) et non plus l'éducation nationale française. Elle devint ensuite inspectrice d'écoles et resta au Maroc au moins jusqu’à la retraite.
Hostile à l'influence toujours envahissante des croyances catholiques dans la société, Etienne Menjoulet fit bon accueil (ainsi que son épouse Jeanne) à Nellie Granade, future épouse de son fils Jean lorsqu'elle vint passer des vacances chez eux. De culture protestante, Nellie partageait avec Etienne certains points de vue sur le catholicisme (d'autant que Nellie n'a jamais été étouffée par les croyances religieuses, Protestantisme signifiant pour elle surtout liberté de penser, appartenance à une minorité et Résistance). Alors qu'Etienne refusait d'assister à toute cérémonie religieuse dans une église catholique, il assista au mariage religieux protestant de son fils Jean qui fut célébré au Temple du change, à Lyon le 31 octobre 1963.
La maison d'Etienne à Barbaste en France était assez sobre. Les toilettes étaient dans le jardin, et il n'y avait par exemple pas de douche, ce qui occasionnait une sortie aux bains-douches de Barbaste une fois par semaine.
Etienne s'est suicidé en 1971, en se tirant une balle de pistolet dans la bouche. Il supportait mal de vivre seul, après avoir enterré ses deux femmes. Après la mort de Jeanne en 1966, Il avait essayé de vivre avec une autre femme avec qui cela n'avait pas fonctionné. Il n'avait par ailleurs pas pu rentrer en contact avec une femme marocaine (une ancienne « Fatma » de leur maison de Casablanca) avec qui il avait eu une liaison, cette dernière avait émigré en France. La femme d'Etienne (Jeanne) avait pu intercepter son adresse et avait fait jurer, sur son lit de mort, à son fils Jean, qu'il ne donnerait pas à son père l'adresse en France de cette femme marocaine. Un an après la mort de Jeanne, Nellie, la femme de Jean, qui était enceinte de leur premier enfant, proposa à Jean d’appeler leur bébé Jeanne, si c’était une fille, en mémoire de cette (seconde) mère, dont la mort avait causé beaucoup de peine à Jean.
Redevenu veuf, Etienne n’était pas vraiment seul à Barbaste, outre les visites épisodiques de son fils Jean, il voyait du monde (notamment le jeune Guy, le petit neveux de sa femme Jeanne défunte, qu’il emmenait chasser).
Par ailleurs (et peut-être surtout) Etienne endurait des problèmes de santé (la goutte) qui lui donnaient envie d'en finir avec "cette chienne de vie" (comme il qualifiait la vie dans ses lettres) surtout après une opération de la hanche qui s'était très mal passée. Peut-être que le fait d'avoir dû quitter le pays où il avait vécu pendant 40 ans, le Maroc, a aussi joué sur cette volonté d'en finir, à cela s’ajoutait le point de vue financier, puisqu'il avait très peu d'argent, alors qu'il avait travaillé toute sa vie.
Pour son suicide, Etienne n’eut pas de chance, la balle de pistolet, passa, par un hasard incroyable, juste entre les deux lobes du cerveau. Et Etienne vécu encore 6 mois, principalement à l’hôpital de Nérac, avant que son cerveau ne « s’effondre » brutalement, suite à son tir de pistolet.
Wow.....I just realized this morning that my "viewmeter" clicked over the 40,000 mark ......!!
I get so busy concentrating on pictures and commenting......I didn't realize how many views have clicked into my stream..!!
Thank you so much to each and everyone of you for your constant support and praise......it is such an honour to be intouch with so many talented people...!!
This is such a great site to share photography and inspire us all to be creative and giving..!!
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Featuring
7 Deadly s[K]ins
KT
Vengeful Threads
Twe12ve
Location - Baja Norte
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Baja%20Norte/112/222/22
7 Deadly s[K]ins - Birdie HUD omega FACE&BODY apricot @ Lost & Found May 24th
Store - maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Valyria/180/63/24
Event - maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/La%20Grange/25/133/21
Owner - Izara Zuta
Outfit
{KT} Sandy Outfit @ Twe12ve
Full outfit includes dress, bag, shoes and nail appliers
Store - maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Glamour%20Isle/166/187/24
Event - maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Brewery/79/200/21
Owner - kaliope karas
Necklace
Vengeful Threads - Original Mesh - Mazu Necklace @ Twe12ve
Store - maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Isle%20RFyre/45/106/3603
Event -
Owner - Vixn Dagger
Icecream Prop/Pose
{Imeka} Ice Cream Poses {Group Gift}
Store - maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/InTouch/183/84/2101
owner - NatiWilliams
[AK] Lulu Bento Head NEW GEN Vers. 2.6
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Akeruka/232/190/1801
Kaoz koba
- Anniversary group member gift -
Catwa mesh eyes
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Catwa%20Clip/144/114/24
Hair
/Wasabi Pills/ Lizzie Mesh Hair
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Coraline/203/104/1003
MissAllSunday Lemon
Ce dessin fantastique d'une femme casquée dans le profil est l'un des quatre dessins au fusain similaires Redon exécutés au cours de la dernière décennie du XIXe siècle. Le sitter, rendu étrangement muet par son revêtement de helmetlike et intouchable par ses aiguilles épineuses, varie légèrement d'une feuille à. Bien que la signification exacte de l'image de Redon ne sait pas, on a pensé que la servitude bizarre imposée à son modèle exprime la peur inconsciente de la sexualité féminine ou, au contraire, est un symbole de la fécondité féminine. Tout aussi important, cependant, est virtuose de la manipulation de Redon de charbon de bois et son abiliy pour capturer toute sa gamme de tons, de l'obscurité la qualité de velours du casque à la pâleur de la peau de la femme.
It was a nice sunny June day and I was photographing at Clink Road Junction, my girlfriend and I were sitting on the embankment opposite Clink Road box hoping to photograph a few Westerns, when the signalman come out of box and came across to us I thought he was going to tell us we were trespassing and to clear off , but no he invited us into the box and made us a cup of tea , that was the start of a long friendship with signalman Adrian Vaughan I later spent many happy hours photographing in the Signal Boxes that Adrian worked, the above picture was taken at Witham on 26/05/1975. L to R my girlfrend Lesley, Susan, Adrians wife and the man himself. I am still intouch with Adrian who now live,s in Norfolk. For the record the Western,s . seen at Clink Road Junction on the day I first met Adrian were, 1001/09/12/15/28/31/33/34/37/44/46/48/50/54. Class 50,s 50018/30/38/44/46. 47,s 47059/63/93/ 128/189/258/438. 33,s 33015/25. 31286. 46028. KC. If you wonder what they were looking at a herd of cow's in the field behind the box were just running around like mad the farmer had only just put them in the field and they seemed to enjoying themselves. KC.
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Taken at "Pan Men" in Suzhou, on the steps coming down.
Dedicated to my friend who told me about this place.
« Je ne peux pas voir un chat dans la rue sans ressentir une complicité ethnique. » (J.-P.G.)
new website : this, random, RSS | random Flickr | © David Farreny.
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Agora voce tambem pode ser um lojista.
Nossa franquia é a unica que oferece 70% para o franquiado.
Franquia limitada apenas 10 unidade.
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Now you too can be a shopkeeper.
Our franchise is the only one that offers 70% for the franchisee.
Limited franchise only 10 unit.
Confronté au refus des distributeurs de leur allouer des copies de films promis à une fréquentation, disons, un peu moins 'limitée', le Balzac et une autre salle arts et essais des Champs avaient volontairement baissé le rideau jusque début janvier.
Et on ne parle pas de 'Intouchables', là. Exemple de film promis à un 'gros succès' : 'Le Havre' de Aki Kaurismaki. Un film finlandais sur Le Havre. ça serait comme de vouloir y aller passer un we du 14 juillet !
Mais quand même, j'aime pas qu'on ne s'en prenne pas à mes repères dans la vie parisienne.
Un jour, je raconterai l'histoire du Kinopanorama qui, après avoir dû sa survie au à Volker Schlöndorf et son 'Tambour', a fini par être remplacé par un centre de remise en forme.
At least it's not floral! :) Those photos may look nice, but to me they usually have no big significance.
This got into Explore as #269 on Wednesday, July 16, 2008. Whee :D
Big thank you to this driver aswell, Honked the horn and being very polite!
I posted the 2 pictures of his lorry on facebook and he got intouch! Thanks alot buddy! (:
This Reg plate was previously on a Volvo FH Owned by another unknown haulier, And before that, it was on a Volvo FM Rigid tipper owned by Neil Simon Haulage
Flickr Explore #430
Cover of InTouch Magazine (British Council) Issue of Ramadan/September 2009
SlideShow www.flickr.com/photos/eissaphotos/show/
Prints Available Mohamed.Eissa@Hotmail.com
Facebook Group www.facebook.com/groups.php?ref=sb#/group.php?gid=1193327...
www.facebook.com/JimVail.DestinFlorida Thank you for visiting my Flickr site! I hope that you enjoy my photography!! www.InTouch.org ("Broadcasts" "audio archives"); www.sbc.net/bfm/bfm2000.asp cbhministries.org/gift/
For all you "locals", check out this first website if you like FREE STEAKS!!!
outofthisworldministries.com/mens_barn_meeting_in_paxton www.wayofthemaster.com/goodperson.shtml www.wayofthemaster.com/interviewwithgod.shtml www.canceroutreach.com/death.pdf
John 3 The entire chapter where Jesus tells how to be born again in order to see the kingdom of God :
1 There was a man of the Pharisees, named Nicodemus, a ruler of the Jews: 2 The same came to Jesus by night, and said unto him, Rabbi, we know that thou art a teacher come from God: for no man can do these miracles that thou doest, except God be with him. 3 Jesus answered and said unto him, Verily, verily, I say unto thee, Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God. 4 Nicodemus saith unto him, How can a man be born when he is old? can he enter the second time into his mother's womb, and be born? 5 Jesus answered, Verily, verily, I say unto thee, Except a man be born of water and of the Spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God. 6 That which is born of the flesh is flesh; and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit. 7 Marvel not that I said unto thee, Ye must be born again. 8 The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest the sound thereof, but canst not tell whence it cometh, and whither it goeth: so is every one that is born of the Spirit. 9 Nicodemus answered and said unto him, How can these things be? 10 Jesus answered and said unto him, Art thou a master of Israel, and knowest not these things? 11 Verily, verily, I say unto thee, We speak that we do know, and testify that we have seen; and ye receive not our witness. 12 If I have told you earthly things, and ye believe not, how shall ye believe, if I tell you of heavenly things? 13 And no man hath ascended up to heaven, but he that came down from heaven, even the Son of man which is in heaven. 14 And as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the Son of man be lifted up: 15 That whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have eternal life. 16 For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life. 17 For God sent not his Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world through him might be saved. 18 He that believeth on him is not condemned: but he that believeth not is condemned already, because he hath not believed in the name of the only begotten Son of God. 19 And this is the condemnation, that light is come into the world, and men loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil. 20 For every one that doeth evil hateth the light, neither cometh to the light, lest his deeds should be reproved. 21 But he that doeth truth cometh to the light, that his deeds may be made manifest, that they are wrought in God.
22 After these things came Jesus and his disciples into the land of Judaea; and there he tarried with them, and baptized. 23 And John also was baptizing in Aenon near to Salim, because there was much water there: and they came, and were baptized. 24 For John was not yet cast into prison. 25 Then there arose a question between some of John's disciples and the Jews about purifying. 26 And they came unto John, and said unto him, Rabbi, he that was with thee beyond Jordan, to whom thou barest witness, behold, the same baptizeth, and all men come to him. 27 John answered and said, A man can receive nothing, except it be given him from heaven. 28 Ye yourselves bear me witness, that I said, I am not the Christ, but that I am sent before him. 29 He that hath the bride is the bridegroom: but the friend of the bridegroom, which standeth and heareth him, rejoiceth greatly because of the bridegroom's voice: this my joy therefore is fulfilled. 30 He must increase, but I must decrease. 31 He that cometh from above is above all: he that is of the earth is earthly, and speaketh of the earth: he that cometh from heaven is above all. 32 And what he hath seen and heard, that he testifieth; and no man receiveth his testimony. 33 He that hath received his testimony hath set to his seal that God is true. 34 For he whom God hath sent speaketh the words of God: for God giveth not the Spirit by measure unto him. 35 The Father loveth the Son, and hath given all things into his hand. 36 He that believeth on the Son hath everlasting life: and he that believeth not the Son shall not see life; but the wrath of God abideth on him.
♥
How Well Do You Know God? www.intouch.org/resources/content/topic/how_well_do_you_k...
How Well Do You Know God?
Guess what? God loves you and wants to have a personal relationship with you forever.
Your heavenly Father also has a special plan for your life. He gives us this promise in the Old Testament book of Jeremiah, chapter 29 verse 11: “‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ says the LORD, ‘They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope.’” God created you to have a relationship with Him. He wants you to grow close to Him now and spend forever with Him in heaven after you die.
But one thing separates us from a relationship with God … sin. If you’ve ever done something wrong, then you know about sin. Sin is disobeying God and the Bible says in Romans 3:23: “For all [that means us!] have sinned; all fall short of God’s glorious standard.”
Romans 6:23 explains that the punishment for sin is death—separation from God in hell forever. No matter how hard we try, we can’t save ourselves. We can’t earn our way to heaven by being good, going to church, or getting baptized. That’s the bad news.
But don’t worry! God loves us so much that He sent his only son, Jesus, to earth. Jesus lived a perfect, sinless life and then died on the cross to take the punishment for our sins (Romans 5:8). Three days later, He came back to life and now He lives in heaven.
In John 14:6, Jesus said, “I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one can come to the Father except through Me.” To reach God and live in heaven after you die, you must accept Jesus as your personal Savior and Lord.
To accept Jesus as your Savior, simply talk to God and admit that you are a sinner, believe that Jesus died for your sins and was raised from the dead, and give Him control of your life.
Here is an example of a prayer that will help you know what to say:
Dear God, I know that I’m a sinner and that my sin separates me from You. I realize that I can’t do anything to earn my way into heaven. I believe that Jesus took the punishment for my sins by dying on the cross and coming back to life. I accept Him as my Savior and Lord. And I will try my best to please You all the days of my life. Thank You for forgiving me and saving me now. In Jesus’ name, I pray. Amen.
If you accepted Jesus Christ as your Savior, then you can be sure He heard you. The Bible says, “Anyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved” (Romans 10:13). You have just begun a relationship with God and you will definitely spend eternity in heaven with Him!
If you made a decision to follow Jesus Christ today, please let us know and we will e-mail you a brochure to assist you in finding a church home.
Once again my own car is used as a test bed for photography..
A much quicker shoot and PP than many of my shots, which is good - and a slightly different result to boot :)
Lighting is with a single 430ex flash moved around the car a few times - multiple exposures then merged and massaged in PS
What do you think?
The car is up for sale too, get intouch if your interested in owning this very quick and well known car
Press L and view on black, its worth it :)
Photo conservée par Etienne Menjoulet de son Tour de France.
Je pensais au départ qu'il s'agissait des compagnons du devoir qui siégeaient à Vaise, à Lyon (puisque Etienne était rattaché à Vaise). Après expertise (auprès du musée du compagnonnage de Tours notamment - www.museecompagnonnage.fr/) il s'est avéré qu'Etienne Menjoulet était, de façon pratiquement certaine, un « Renard Joyeux Libre et Indépendant sur le Tour de France ». Cette société de « Renards » était concurrente de celle des compagnons, mais elle n’arborait pas de signes distinctifs tels que des rubans au chapeau ou à la boutonnière (les « couleurs ») et en principe les Renards ne portaient pas de cannes. Celles des 2 personnages au centre sont probablement des « prises de guerre » dérobées aux compagnons, ou des cannes faites pour reprendre les coutumes des compagnons. Comme les compagnons, les Renards avaient des « Mères » (elle est au centre), pratiquaient le tour de France, fabriquaient des maquettes. Mais il n’y avait pas chez eux toutes ces coutumes particulières, de réception, d’arrivée, de départ, etc. propres aux compagnons, avec lesquels ils ne s’entendaient pas.
Ils se donnaient des surnoms comme les compagnons mais sur le mode satirique, pour se moquer de leurs rivaux.
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Concernant la vie de mon grand-père Etienne, j'ai écrit la petite biographie qui suit à partir de différents récits de mémoire familiale :
Etienne Menjoulet
Charpentier, né en 1899. Il grandit à Barbaste (sud-ouest de la France).
Son prénom d’Etat civil était Gustave, mais il n’aimait pas ce prénom et se fit toujours appeler Etienne.
Bon élève à l'école, il passa son certificat d'étude et le Brevet et commença à travailler, comme tous ses aïeux, en tant qu'apprenti charpentier (période de son premier séjour au Maroc en 1913-1914).
Charpentiers depuis la nuit des temps
Etienne Menjoulet fut le dernier charpentier d'une très très longue lignée de charpentiers. Mes recherches sur mes ancêtres Menjoulet et sur les charpentiers du sud-ouest de la France m’ont conduite à me pencher sur l’histoire des « cagots », dont je suis quasiment certaine que les Menjoulet de Barbaste/Nérac en étaient des descendants directs (même s’il n’y a pas de mémoire familiale de cette origine « cagote », oubli sans doute souhaité dès le 18e siècle). Jusqu’au 18ème siècle, tous les charpentiers du sud-ouest étaient des « cagots » de génération en génération. Dans chaque village du sud-ouest, la ou les maisons de charpentiers étaient tenues à l’écart, les cagots étaient considérés par les paysans de ces régions comme des « mauvais chrétiens » atteints d’une « lèpre intérieure », c’était une caste d’intouchables.
Le siècle suivant cette longue période, au 19ème siècle, le grand-père d’Etienne, Jean Menjoulet, maître charpentier, franc-maçon, épousa une jeune-fille de la région, Anne Boustens. et eu 3 fils qu’il nomma Edward, Edgard et Ancel. La consonance des 3 prénoms avait été choisie pour faire "chier" le curé. Les prénoms anglo-saxons s'inspiraient par ailleurs de la loge maçonnique londonienne de leur père, Jean Menjoulet. Ce dernier partit ensuite (pour des raisons sans doute de nécessité financière) exercer son métier au Mozambique (alors colonie portugaise), laissant sa femme et ses fils Edward, Ancel et Edgard à Barbaste en France. Jean Menjoulet, qui vivait en dernier lieu dans le district de Manica, au Mozambique, fut tué à 45 ans à Beira (ville portuaire du Mozambique) en 1891.
Son fils Edgard, né en 1872, futur père d’Etienne, devint charpentier, il épousa en 1898 Marie Menjoulet/Lescouzère, une jeune fille de la région, de famille paysanne. Etienne naquit l’année suivante, en 1899. Ses parents émigrèrent en Argentine vers 1907, avec leurs deux plus jeunes fils (André, dit Lou Peliou, né en 1905 et Claude, bébé) et leur fille, Paule, laissant leur fils aîné Etienne, 7 ans, seul en France chez une tante, « bouchonnière » de métier (fabrication de bouchons de liège).
Etienne connut une enfance très pauvre (on peut penser que sa petite taille était liée à une alimentation très frugale dans son enfance, et comme d'autres enfants de sa génération, son cadeau de noël chaque année de son enfance consistait en une orange).
Apprenti-charpentier au Maroc, Etienne Menjoulet avait 15 ans en août 1914. Le temps d’atteindre l’âge du service, il fut appelé sous les drapeaux alors que la guerre avait déjà bien commencé. Lors de la visite médicale vers 1917, le médecin dit en le voyant arriver "mais voilà un petit chasseur" (il était petit mais musclé), mais il fut affecté en fin de compte chez les sapeurs-mineurs (comme beaucoup d'artisans). Le temps qu'il finisse sa préparation militaire, l'armistice arriva vite, ce qui lui permit de réchapper à l'hécatombe et de ne guère mettre en pratique sa formation à la guerre, notamment l'entraînement de combat à la baïonnette qui lui avait paru extrêmement barbare (mais il n'aurait pas reculé si la guerre ne s'était pas terminée). Sans doute cet entraînement intensif aux combats à la baïonnette était prévu pour des combats dans les galeries de mines où étaient envoyés les sapeurs-mineurs. Son service militaire se prolongea bien après 1918.
La formation professionnelle d’Etienne Menjoulet se poursuivra après la Grande Guerre, dans une société de type compagnonnique en tant que « Renard Joyeux Libre et Indépendant sur le Tour de France ». Athée et Indifférent aux religions, comme ses aïeux, il ne prolongea pas la tradition familiale de franc-maçonnerie (dans une loge anglaise, dans laquelle un de ses aïeux avait d’ailleurs été un dirigeant). Il refusa l’initiation maçonnique pour ne pas promettre sans savoir de quoi il en était, puisqu'il n'était pas informé avant d'être introduit. Dans ce sens, son choix d'une association alternative aux « compagnons du devoir » et aux « compagnons du devoir de liberté », s'inscrivait sans doute dans le même esprit : refus des mythologies. Pas de rites religieux, pas de rites maçonniques et pas de rites compagnonniques. Les « Renards Joyeux Libres et Indépendants sur le Tour de France » s'étaient en effet créés par opposition aux compagnons Soubises (compagnons du Devoir) et Indiens (compagnons du Devoir de Liberté) dans un esprit qui rejetait les rites quels qu’ils soient.
La langue natale d’Etienne Menjoulet était le patois gascon et le Français. Il parlait couramment les deux langues, le gascon comme le français (il continuait à parler en patois avec sa seconde femme dans les années 1950). Son père Edgard et ses oncles Ancel et Edward avaient été battus par leur instituteur lorsqu'ils parlaient patois, y compris en récréation, mais la langue continuait d'être parlée, dans l'entre-soi, une génération après.
Plus tard, au Maroc Etienne chantait souvent des chansons en patois en conduisant, jusque dans les années 1950, pour ne pas s’endormir au volant, lors de longues heures sur les routes en camionnette. Quand il ne chantait pas en patois, Etienne demandait à l'ouvrier marocain qui l'accompagnait de lui raconter des histoires pour le tenir éveillé. Et l’ouvrier se défendait souvent en disant « mais qu’est-ce que tu veux que je te raconte ?! ».
Etienne fit donc son tour de France (autour de 1923) en tant que "Renard libre joyeux et indépendant" (rattaché à Lyon-Vaise, où siégeaient d’ailleurs également les compagnons du devoir) . Les "Renards" étaient en rivalité avec les sociétés compagnonniques. Au début des années 1920, cette rivalité ne donnait pas lieu à des bagarres, mais lorsqu'un Renard (comme Etienne Menjoulet) passait par des ateliers où avaient travaillé des compagnons de sociétés rivales, il commençait par nettoyer tous les instruments, établis, etc. et à tout bien tout essuyer pour ne pas avoir à toucher ce qui avait été manipulé par les membres des deux sociétés rivales.
Au cours de son tour de France, Etienne eut des liaisons avec des femmes, mais sa rencontre sérieuse fut avec Marie-Louise Bongard, une jeune fille de la Nièvre, fille d’agriculteurs (père lorrain), de religion catholique. Marie-Louise était fille unique, et comme beaucoup de filles d’agriculteurs de la « belle-époque », elle avait été « placée » à Paris comme bonne. Elle rencontra Etienne à Paris, sans doute au cours d’un bal, et ce placement ne dura donc pas. Marie-Louise épousa Etienne à la mairie. Pour l’église, Etienne resta à l'extérieur de l'église même pour son mariage, et il négocia avec sa femme l’accord suivant : leurs enfants seraient seulement baptisés, ils n'auraient aucune éducation religieuse.
Après quelques mois en Normandie (fin de tour de France du ccompagnon Etienne, sans doute), n'en pouvant plus de la pluie incessante de cette région (d'autant plus gênante avec son métier), il alla s'installer avec sa femme au Maroc, à Casablanca, en tant que charpentier.
Son ancien patron d'apprentissage, Estève, devint son associé. Il retrouva, à Casablanca, son oncle Ancel (ferronnier, qui habita pendant un temps à Casablanca avec sa femme) puis son frère André et son père Edgard (tous deux avaient d'abord émigré en Argentine, mais Edgard s'était séparé de sa femme. Marie Menjoulet/Lescouzere (mère d'Etienne, couturière) était restée en Argentine, avec leur fille Paule (et soeur d'Etienne) et leur fils Claude pendant que le père et l'autre fils, André, rejoignaient le Maroc. Etienne en voulait beaucoup à sa mère, considérant qu'elle l'avait abandonné dans son enfance. Mais sachant que le père d'Etienne, Edgard, avait le défaut d'être très "coureur" (il est mort de la Syphilis en 1945), on peut penser que la mère d'Etienne, Marie, avait des raisons de vouloir se séparer d'Edgard. Ma bisaïeule Marie Menjoulet/Lescouzère est morte en Argentine dans les années 1940. Edgard , quant à lui, vivait au Maroc en concubinage avec une femme de Casablanca (dont je n’ai pas le nom, je sais simplement qu’elle était juive).
Leur fille Paule, soeur d'Etienne, établie en Argentine, se maria avec un Argentin d'origine française, Pierre Sendon, et son frère (et frère d'Etienne), Claude, émigra de l’Argentine aux Etats-Unis. Paule rendit visite à ses frères au Maroc, Etienne et André, au moins une fois.
Au Maroc, Etienne et Marie-Louise eurent d’abord deux garçons (André né en 1925, et Georges, né en 1929).
Lors du déclenchement de la seconde guerre mondiale, Etienne (bien établi à Casablanca), est à nouveau appelé sous les drapeaux, à 40 ans. Il passe une année militaire à Mazagan (El Jadida), grade de caporal. Son dernier fils, Jean, naît le 13 mai 1940.
Son fils aîné, André, sera très grièvement blessé en 1944 lors d'un accident à la fin de sa formation d'aviateur, quelques jours avant qu'il passe d'aspirant à pilote de guerre. André avait 19 ans, il sera hospitalisé durant deux ans et demi à l'hôpital militaire de Rabat où il subit plus de 20 opérations.
Etienne Menjoulet aimait son métier de charpentier, il passait beaucoup de temps dans son bureau au Maroc, à sa table de dessin. Et n'hésitait pas à montrer aux architectes, calculs à l'appui, les erreurs qu'ils commettaient et qui compromettaient la stabilité des constructions si les plans n'étaient pas modifiés.
Etienne avait appris à parler très bien l'arabe. Leurs amis marocains du bled (avec qui ils faisaient notamment beaucoup de parties de chasse, lui et son frère André) ne parlaient pas français. Par ailleurs, dans son travail, avec sa dizaine d'ouvriers, il était nécessaire de savoir parler la langue du pays. Ses fils nés au Maroc parlaient couramment arabe (André et Georges, les deux aînés), ou avaient un niveau plus moyen pour le plus jeune (Jean).
Etienne avait par ailleurs refusé, au lendemain de la guerre, suite à l'arrivée des Américains au Maroc de signer des contrats avec eux, jugeant que ces constructions auraient dénaturé son métier : les américains apportaient des techniques de construction industrielles, clef en main, où la compétence du métier ne comptait plus. Etienne fit donc un choix, il renonça à la fortune que lui auraient apportée ces contrats en or avec les Américains, en disant aux américains d'aller voir ailleurs. Mais il garda ce qui était sa valeur réelle, le métier en lui-même.
Etienne pouvait aussi être teigneux ou coléreux, que ce soit, anecdotiquement, vis à vis de rats qui pouvaient s'introduire dans son bureau (qu'il tuait alors à coups de pieds) ou de gens, s'il y avait conflit.
Au niveau de son métier de charpentier, l'œuvre d'Etienne Menjoulet est très diversifiée : clochers d'Eglise, charpentes de maisons, charpente d’usines, charpentes de grands entrepôts.... (liste à faire). Il procédait aussi à des rénovations d’ailleurs.
Au niveau loisirs, les photos de cette collection attestent qu'Etienne aimait beaucoup la chasse, jusqu'à la fin de sa vie. Et que ce goût était partagé par son frère André qui était aussi un grand chasseur. Ces chasses se faisaient au cours de longues marches au Maroc, dans le bled, par une chaleur écrasante. Le gibier, lièvres, perdreaux, cailles, pigeons ramiers (palombes) était ensuite partagé. La compagne d’Edgard, le père d’Etienne et André, fut une fois amenée à partager la chasse ramenée par André à leur père. Elle garda pour eux les meilleurs morceaux et transmis à André les moins bons morceaux pour Etienne, en lui disant « c’est pour Etienne, il aime les têtes ! ». Ce qui ne la rendit pas du tout sympathique à Etienne, qui par ailleurs, anticlérical, n’avait pas d’atomes crochus avec les croyances juives de la compagne de son père.
En France, dans les années 1910, puis dans les années 1960, Etienne pratiquait aussi la chasse au filet (ortolans) répandue dans le sud-ouest.
Etienne aimait par ailleurs les chiens. Il y en avait toujours plusieurs à la maison, et qui n’étaient pas que des chiens de chasse, mais aussi de compagnie. Au Maroc, Etienne et son frère André pouvaient être un peu durs avec leurs chiens, ils leur tiraient par exemple du petits plombs dans l’arrière train (sans trop les blesser apparemment), si les chiens n’obéissaient pas durant la chasse. Mais Etienne portait aussi secours à ses chiens si nécessaire. Son fils Jean se rappelle de l’un d’eux , un petit épagneul breton nommé Kiss, qui se fit un jour éventrer de bas en haut du corps par un molosse du voisinage (en un coup de croc). Alors que les boyaux du chien lui sortaient du ventre, Etienne demanda du gros fil et une grosse aiguille. Il remit à pleine main les boyaux dans le ventre de Kiss sous le regard horrifié de son fils Jean, et recousit le ventre du malheureux épagneul. Et le chien guérit et vécut normalement ensuite.
Au Maroc, les parties de chasse d’André et Etienne étaient pratiquées avec des amis français ou marocains. Les noms de ces amis qui sont restés en mémoire sont ceux de deux frères (des marocains de Casablanca), les Djilali (dont l’un, le plus proche d’eux, est mort brutalement en 1941 d'une crise cardiaque).
Peu de temps avant le déclenchement de la guerre en 1940, ces parties de chasse donnèrent lieu à un grave accident dont fut victime le frère d'Etienne, André, lors d'une partie de chasse commune. André s'était sans doute avancé brusquement dans la zone de tir d'Etienne sans être vu par ce dernier qui le blessa à la tête dans un tir le rendant presque aveugle pendant de nombreuses années. Les deux frères restèrent proches en dépit de cet accident. André ne se fit opérer que lorsqu’il fut vieux, l’opération risquant de le rendre complètement aveugle, alors qu’il voyait encore des ombres. L’opération réussit.
Etienne déménagea en 1946 avec sa famille, ils quittèrent le centre (européen) de Casablanca pour rejoindre un quartier de la périphérie/banlieue de Casablanca (à un kilomètre de la gare), quartier mixte, un peu industriel mais aussi résidentiel, avec certaines maisons élégantes. Cela permit à Etienne d'avoir un hangar de bonne taille pour son travail.
Etienne Menjoulet avait de nombreuses relations amicales françaises et marocaines. Son fils Jean, qui dormait dans le salon, se rappelle qu'il y avait très souvent du monde le soir chez eux, dans les années 1950, mais que cela ne l'empêchait pas de dormir, dans la même pièce.
Marie-Louise, la première femme d'Etienne Menjoulet, mourut en 1949 des suites d'une longue maladie qui dura des années et la paralysa progressivement jusqu'à l'étouffement. Le mal s'était déclenché à la suite d'une blessure avec un objet métallique, une pédale de vélo. Son fils Jean se souvient encore, près de 70 ans après, des longs moments qu’il passait dans la chambre de sa mère alitée, alors qu’il avait 7 ou 8 ans. Pour distraire sa mère immobilisée, il lui passait, en 78 tours, les disques qu’elle aimait, les valses viennoises, Berthe Sylva (les roses blanches…), Tino Rossi, et bien d’autres. A sa mort, bien qu'anticlérical, Etienne fit venir dans leur maison un curé pour l'extrême-onction de sa femme qui était catholique (il était bien-sûr hors de question pour Etienne d'aller à une messe). Lorsque le curé demanda de "l'eau bénite", Etienne lui dit de prendre l'eau du robinet. Marie-Louise fut enterrée à Casablanca. Son petit garçon, Jean, demanda à son père Etienne ce qu’il était advenu de sa mère qui avait disparu, Etienne lui répondit « Ta mère, elle pourrit sous terre ! » (réponse qui a de quoi traumatiser un enfant, mais des paroles sans doute plus dues à la tristesse qu’à la méchanceté).
Après le départ de la famille Menjoulet en 1962, la tombe de Marie-Louise fut préservée (son fils Jean avait donné de l’argent à un Marocain pour qu’il garde un œil dessus...). La tombe était encore en place dans les années 1980.
A propos de l'eau, pour la vie quotidienne, dans les années 1940-1950, l'eau courante était froide, la baignoire était chauffée au bois, cette charge de chauffer la baignoire pour des bains une fois par semaine était assignée au plus jeune fils, Jean. Ce bois que se procurait facilement Etienne, par son travail, était aussi utilisé en hiver pour l'unique cheminée qui se situait dans le salon/salle à manger).
Les Menjoulet étaient aussi équipés d’un téléphone, dès les années 1940. Téléphone nécessaire au travail d’Etienne, téléphone dont son fils Jean se rappelle encore le numéro, 70 ans après.
Suite au - long - décès de Marie-Louise, le petit Jean, âgé de 9 ans, alla vivre un an chez ses oncle/tante André et Julienne Menjoulet, à Casablanca (qui avaient deux enfants, Andrée 15 ans, et Jean-Louis 5 ans).
C’est au cours de cette période que Jean se rappelle d’une visite du boxeur Marcel Cerdan chez son oncle André (qui était président du club de football de Casablanca, un club de foot mixte, composé de Marocains et d’Européens). Jean ne se rappelle plus des détails du repas, simplement que sa cousine l’a appelé alors qu’il jouait dehors, en lui disant que Marcel Cerdan était chez eux. Cette visite de Marcel Cerdan aux Menjoulet eu d’ailleurs lieu peu de temps avant la mort du boxeur dans son accident d’avion.
Etienne Menjoulet quant à lui se remaria au Maroc avec Jeanne Sansot, une femme originaire de la même région du Lot-et-Garonne que lui, qu'il connaissait depuis l'enfance (même école à Barbaste) et qui avait déjà vécu en Algérie. Elle était veuve après que son mari et son fils se soient suicidés (pour une même femme). Elle laissa alors à sa fille Linette le café-restaurant dont elle était la patronne, en France dans la région de Nérac pour venir vivre au Maroc. Elle embarqua avec elle sa « marraine » (une grand-mère de sa famille, qui vécut donc ensuite plus de 10 ans chez Etienne et Jeanne). Sa fille Linette (avec son mari Gérard) hébergeât quant à elle son autre grand-mère, pendant plus de 10 ans également. Au Maroc, Jeanne s'occupa aussi, et très bien, comme si elle était sa mère, du dernier fils d'Etienne, Jean, qui la considérait comme sa (seconde) mère et l’appelait « Tante Jeanne ».
En France, le café de Jeanne fut donc repris par sa fille, Linette, qui avait vécu quant à elle auparavant en Tunisie. Linette abandonna l’activité de restauration pour se consacrer avec ce café à l’organisation de bals qui connurent un grand succès qui dura. Les gens de toute la région y venaient, et des chanteurs de variétés y furent invités pour des concerts alors qu’ils étaient inconnus et à leurs débuts (Francis Cabrel par exemple).
Au Maroc, les affaires professionnelles d'Etienne Menjoulet, à Casablanca, furent impactées par la situation du pays. Les années précédant la fin du protectorat s'étant traduites, au niveau contrats de construction par une chute des commandes. En revanche, pour la vie quotidienne, les marocains de son entourage (ses ouvriers…) lui avaient assuré qu'il ne courait aucun risque, qu'il pouvait garer sa camionnette dans la médina, que l'on reconnaîtrait sa plaque d'immatriculation et que l'on ne ferait pas sauter son véhicule.
Les deux fils aînés d’Etienne s’étaient mariés : André, se maria deux fois, d’abord avec Claudette, puis avec Lore, une Autrichienne de Salzbourg qui travaillait dans le tourisme, il se sépara d’ailleurs ensuite à nouveau, mais beaucoup plus tard. Georges quant à lui se maria avec Lydia, ce qui le brouilla avec son frère André, Lydia étant précédemment en couple avec André. Les deux frères ne se reparlèrent plus.
Jean, le plus jeune fils d’Etienne se rappelle d’une réception donnée par l’entreprise pour laquelle travaillait sa belle-sœur […laquelle ?]. Il s’agissait d’une entreprise (française) qui soutenait l’indépendance. Le futur roi du Maroc (Hassan II alors prince héritier), était invité à cette réception. Jean fut frappé par l’élégance (élégance vestimentaire et verbale) de Moulay Hassan qu’il vit à quelques mètres de lui.
Etienne Menjoulet n'était pas engagé politiquement, ce qui ne l'empêchait pas d'avoir des jugements critiques, que ce soit vis à vis "des gros" (comme on disait à l'époque pour décrire les gros capitalistes), ou inversement vis à vis des partis de gauche ou des syndicalistes (surtout du fait que, à ses yeux, ces derniers n'avaient pas de légitimité, ils ne travaillaient pas).
Etienne Menjoulet a quitté le Maroc en 1962 pour s'installer dans le sud-ouest de la France (Barbaste/Durance/Nerac), avec sa seconde femme, Jeanne qui est morte 4 ans plus tard, en 1966, d'un cancer foudroyant.
Entre 1958 et 1962, les 3 fils d'Etienne ont aussi quitté le Maroc.
Le plus jeune, Jean, sera d'abord hébergé chez son frère aîné Georges, et sa femme Lydia, à Lyon où ils s'étaient installés dans un petit appartement, Georges et sa femme décidèrent ensuite d'émigrer en Australie, un pays de cocagne à cette époque. Leur installation et vie se passa très bien là-bas, mais malheureusement ils moururent assez jeunes, quand ils eurent la cinquantaine, au début des années 1980, suite à des accidents cardio-vasculaires.
André (l’aîné des 3 fils d'Etienne et Marie-Louis) ira quant à lui d'abord travailler à Lyon en France comme cadre dans une brasserie avant de tout plaquer pour se consacrer à sa passion, la voile (avec peu d'argent de côté, mais il touchait aussi une petite pension militaire parce que grièvement blessé en 1944). André fera le tour du monde en solitaire à 58 ans, il vivra le reste du temps dans le sud de la France avec ses compagnes successives, et mourra en 1996 en regrettant de ne pas atteindre l’an 2000.
Le frère d'Etienne, André et sa femme Julienne, sont également allés vivre en France, ainsi que leur fils Jean-Louis, à Nîmes. Seule leur fille Andrée (et Tony son mari espagnol, un franc-maçon communiste) est restée vivre au Maroc où elle a pu négocier, en tant qu'institutrice, de travailler pour l'éducation marocaine (et d'être payée par eux) et non plus l'éducation nationale française. Elle devint ensuite inspectrice d'écoles et resta au Maroc au moins jusqu’à la retraite.
Hostile à l'influence toujours envahissante des croyances catholiques dans la société, Etienne Menjoulet fit bon accueil (ainsi que son épouse Jeanne) à Nellie Granade, future épouse de son fils Jean lorsqu'elle vint passer des vacances chez eux. De culture protestante, Nellie partageait avec Etienne certains points de vue sur le catholicisme (d'autant que Nellie n'a jamais été étouffée par les croyances religieuses, Protestantisme signifiant pour elle surtout liberté de penser, appartenance à une minorité et Résistance). Alors qu'Etienne refusait d'assister à toute cérémonie religieuse dans une église catholique, il assista au mariage religieux protestant de son fils Jean qui fut célébré au Temple du change, à Lyon le 31 octobre 1963.
La maison d'Etienne à Barbaste en France était assez sobre. Les toilettes étaient dans le jardin, et il n'y avait par exemple pas de douche, ce qui occasionnait une sortie aux bains-douches de Barbaste une fois par semaine.
Etienne s'est suicidé en 1971, en se tirant une balle de pistolet dans la bouche. Il supportait mal de vivre seul, après avoir enterré ses deux femmes. Après la mort de Jeanne en 1966, Il avait essayé de vivre avec une autre femme avec qui cela n'avait pas fonctionné. Il n'avait par ailleurs pas pu rentrer en contact avec une femme marocaine (une ancienne « Fatma » de leur maison de Casablanca) avec qui il avait eu une liaison, cette dernière avait émigré en France. La femme d'Etienne (Jeanne) avait pu intercepter son adresse et avait fait jurer, sur son lit de mort, à son fils Jean, qu'il ne donnerait pas à son père l'adresse en France de cette femme marocaine. Un an après la mort de Jeanne, Nellie, la femme de Jean, qui était enceinte de leur premier enfant, proposa à Jean d’appeler leur bébé Jeanne, si c’était une fille, en mémoire de cette (seconde) mère, dont la mort avait causé beaucoup de peine à Jean.
Redevenu veuf, Etienne n’était pas vraiment seul à Barbaste, outre les visites épisodiques de son fils Jean, il voyait du monde (notamment le jeune Guy, le petit neveux de sa femme Jeanne défunte, qu’il emmenait chasser).
Par ailleurs (et peut-être surtout) Etienne endurait des problèmes de santé (la goutte) qui lui donnaient envie d'en finir avec "cette chienne de vie" (comme il qualifiait la vie dans ses lettres) surtout après une opération de la hanche qui s'était très mal passée. Peut-être que le fait d'avoir dû quitter le pays où il avait vécu pendant 40 ans, le Maroc, a aussi joué sur cette volonté d'en finir, à cela s’ajoutait le point de vue financier, puisqu'il avait très peu d'argent, alors qu'il avait travaillé toute sa vie.
Pour son suicide, Etienne n’eut pas de chance, la balle de pistolet, passa, par un hasard incroyable, juste entre les deux lobes du cerveau. Et Etienne vécu encore 6 mois, principalement à l’hôpital de Nérac, avant que son cerveau ne « s’effondre » brutalement, suite à son tir de pistolet.
This photo is a collection of shots I took of the school I attend: University of Toronto (U of T) St. George campus. It is a very beautiful campus with many historical buildings. Those few shots do not adequately represent how beautiful St. George campus is because it contains 120 buildings and in one hour I was only able to photograph less than 10 buildings!
NOTE: I hope you like those shots and I don’t expect you to read my extremely long story below to comment on the photo if you like it :)
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I am going to talk about Skule! U of T spells it as “Skule” for some reason! This is by far the least talked about topic among Christians and non-Christians alike. It seems that the general idea is to get a job, any job that makes a lot of money and offers good benefits! Since I have become a Christian in 1999 until today I have only heard one pastor mention the topic and that’s, again, Dr. Charles Stanley of InTouch Ministries.
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PART 1
When I came to Canada around the age of 17 I was already out of school for one year, because my family and I spent it in a neighbouring country where I didn’t attend school there. Of course, here I was delayed too because I didn’t speak English and so I had to take English classes, but being a young man I quickly caught up and excelled in my classes. By the time I graduated high school I had won about 13 awards for best academic achievement at my high school. But my passion for studying came with doubts from teachers.
My first week in high school, and about a month and half in Canada, I was asked by the biology teacher to copy all the notes that I missed in the last month or so from the start of school year because we will have a test next week. So I spent the whole week copying notes, and on the weekend I studied for the test. Having studied human biology back home and gotten a grade of 93% all I had to do is refresh my memory and memorize all those terms in English! Monday came and we had a test. A few days later the teacher announced that the test will be re-written because someone had cheated. She was looking at me while talking but I didn’t think that she was meaning me by her words. Anyway, she gave us our tests back and I had gotten 99%, so I was disappointed that we will have to re-do it. A few days later we re-wrote the test, and this time the teacher was standing in front of my desk all the time while we were writing the test…that’s when it hit me that she suspected that I had cheated! Anyway, I got 98% on the second test and we didn’t have to write the test again! It was kind of shocking that a teacher would suspect a student of cheating without any prove but based solely on the grade! It is like telling the student, “Sorry, but you don’t look smart enough to get this grade!”
Another instant a librarian thought I was helping my friends cheat because I had read Gone with the Wind and I got almost perfect on the reading test of the novel. Because I was so impressed by the novel I told my friends to consider reading it. Some read it did and wrote the test and most passed with good grades, and because of this the librarian thought I had given my friends the answers to the test questions of the novel. Apparently the library computer that we did the test on has specific questions for each novel that do not change, and because of that she thought I could’ve easily told my friends what the questions were. Again that was a disappointing experience from high school, especially because I really liked that librarian.
The last year of high school was a wreck for me emotionally and that’s because as a young man I had a major crush on a lady in my high school (who got married! And no, she wasn’t a student! I am not mentioning this as something I am proud of…however, I might write about this in another project because this was pretty much the stepping stone from me being a believer to becoming a follower of Jesus Christ) and I just didn’t know how to deal with those feelings. On top of that I had grown as an insecure kid, besides having trich, being over-weight, being constantly compared to this and that; needless to say I had little to nothing self-esteem. How was I supposed to choose what to study and choose my career path!
I remember one morning in my last year I could hardly move my legs as I was walking towards my locker in the hallway of my high school…I seriously considered leaving school that day. It was a very strange feeling because I loved studying. I was not dropping out because school was hard or I didn’t see the point behind studying, but trich made me look so bad I could hardly stand being around so many young people even though I was pretty popular and loved by my classmates and teachers. As I stopped at my locker seriously considering dropping out of high school I could hear God telling me, “Just finish this year, it is your last year, finish it anyway you can.” So I decided to finish it no matter how awful it felt to go to school everyday.
Also my family was on welfare (social assistance), and so when those university representatives came and said that it costs around $40,000 to finish university that sounded a lot of money for a poor kid! Especially when you compare that amount of money to the value of money from back home; I think 1 US dollars equalled 3,500 dinars! And so $40,000 sounded more like 140,000,000 dinars!
But the thing that bothered me the most was the fact that I wanted to get married someday, and not to just anybody like the so many people from my culture do, but to that special lady who God had prepared me and her for each other. However, in my culture, Middle East, men generally are valued according to what they do, and how much money they brought in. I can tell you story after story of a girl marrying a man simply because he was an engineer! It could be his brother who had asked her hand, and she would have married him instead if he was an engineer, or a doctor or a pharmacist! (So if you live in North America be thankful for more than just the freedom you enjoy. Be thankful for knowing that your wife married you because she loved you.) And I hated that…if I get married I told God then I wanted to know that she would love me for who I am and not what I do! I just wanted to know that there is a woman out there who wanted to be with me because of me and that’s why she is my wife, because she loves me as much as I love her and as Christ loved both of us. So I despised engineering and education altogether.
And to make matters worse I grew up hearing from my family that I am going to be a doctor—even though I can’t stand the sight of cuts or blood! My grandfather wanted me to be a pharmacist because his father was a pharmacist, but I knew that these talks don’t make sense! God has given me a talent and I needed to figure out what it is before I could decide what to study! And just to enforce my idea about 2 weeks before graduation from high school I had a little conversation with a classmate who excelled in English (writing poems, essays, articles, etc.) but always struggled with computer class (he even had hard time memorizing how to save his work by going to File/Save As/Floppy disk…yea, I know those were the bad and tormenting days of floppy disks!)--that went something like this:
Me: What university are you going to?
Him: York University.
Me: What are you studying?
Him: Computer programming.
Me (in shock!) But why, everybody knows you excel in English, you should be a journalist, a writer,
an editor, an English teacher or something like that!
Him: I know, but do you know how much computer programmers get paid an hour?
That’s pretty much when I stopped making my point, because right then it was like God telling me, “Making money should not be taken into effect when choosing your career—you are to choose what I have gifted you with, no matter what it is even if it is being a cleaner in a subway station.” And so that’s when my journey began to finding God’s will for me as a career!
When my friends and teachers asked me what university I was applying to and I said that I was not they thought I was joking, but then when they realized I was not joking they thought I was being secretive! One teacher, who really cared about me, booked an appointment for me with a guidance counsellor to discuss my future. I basically told the counsellor that if I was going to apply to a university to study something then I needed to know what God has in plan for my life so I know that my choice would please Him—the right choice. She didn’t say much after that and she wished me good luck! (Later I realized that people not only get stunned when you tell them that God has a plan for your life and you want to find it out so you can fulfill His purpose for your life, but when you tell them that God speaks they become speechless! As if now they are not only talking to a dilusioned person but also a completely madman!) That same teacher warned me later that almost all her students who did not continue their education right away after high school never continued it at all. What she didn’t know is that my God does not follow human statistics.
Before I go on I would like to make something clear and that is I am not Joseph, Daniel, Paul or anything like that. The main reasons I didn’t continue my education were being insecure, having a low self-image, and fear, and I think I just covered them up with the little understanding I had of obeying God’s call for my life! Good thing He took that little understanding and made it bigger than all my fears, and other lies of Satan.
However, I had a piece of paper that I wrote my goals for the next five years a couple of months after I graduated in high school, and on top of the list was: figure God’s will for my life in school so I could resume my education. So may be after all, following God’s will for my life was my biggest motivator. I really don’t know.
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PART 2 (The best 4 years of my life)
About two weeks after graduation I realized that I was not on a summer break; I was not going back to school in September, and I realized that I was not a kid anymore protected by a school system—now I was on my own facing the world with my trust in God. So I went to a couple of employment agencies to find a job. You see, in Toronto there isn’t such a thing as a person goes to a company and applies for a job, a general labour job that is; a person has to go sign up with a temporary employment agency and that agency sends you to whatever company contacting them requiring working hands.
For a couple of weeks I worked at a pasta factory but they didn’t want me after that. For a whole week I waited for a phone call from an agency to send me to a different place but that call never came. On Sunday night I was chatting with a friend and she asked if I had found a job and I realized that I could spend all my life like this going from one place to another never knowing when I will be working and when not! It feels so bad to not know if you will be working the next day or not, and where they will send you, how far, what kind of a job, and how nice or not nice the people you are going to work with. So that Sunday night, about 6 weeks after graduation, I went to pray and I told God that I needed a job and that I was out of school because I wanted to obey Him, to wait upon Him, for His guidance, so the least He could do for me is to find me a decent job while He does His work in me and shows me His will.
The next day, Monday, I got a call to go to a warehouse that’s not far from where I lived so I did. You can say the rest is history, because within 6 months I was hired as a full timer! This may not sound amazing to people who don’t know the hiring rates in Toronto, but I know people working in warehouses for years and not getting hired as a full timer. I know engineers who worked for the company I worked for and never got hired—and all they wanted was a general labour full time job. At one time I worked with 7 engineers all of us doing general labour. Another time I even worked with a neurosurgeon! Yes, you read it right—he simply came to Canada to continue practicing medicine but he found out that he needed a Canadian degree to do so—and he couldn’t even find a full time job as a general labourer. So it was amazing that the company hired me within 6 months.
The company I worked for was one of the best places to work at! People would come there and would wish they wouldn’t be sent to somewhere else. The warehouse’s manager and supervisor (both Chinese gentlemen) are really nice, understanding, generous, easy going and cool! And it was like I found favour with God and my bosses (the manager and the supervisor).
Finding favour in with the manager did not come without troubles. I remember a month after getting hired as a full timer my boss called me to his office and told me that even though I have been working as a full timer for only one month that he wanted to give me a raise, (the policy stated that I had to work there at least a year before I was eligible for the standard annual raise of 3%), and that he was going to give me a 6% raise. I liked that of course, and when my co-workers asked me how much raise I got I told them…thinking that it was the minimum or something (I didn’t know about the standard 3% annual raise). That didn’t suite them very well because they all had gotten 3% raise and many of them had been working there for years! After that I learned to keep my personal info to myself! Within the next 3 years my boss raised my wages by 60%! Of course I didn’t tell others because I realized that I was getting paid more than other senior workers did!
He also paid for my forklift license, and gave me the keys to the company and the code to the security alarm! He even told me that within 10 years he is planning to have me take over his job! That frankly scared me because I was hoping that God would show me His will way before that!
About two weeks after I started working there I was asked to work overtime, that’s around 12 hrs of work, and in the last half hour I simply couldn’t take it anymore. Not only my feet were hurting me so bad I could hardly stand, but I also was so emotionally drained. I felt so lost and forsaken by God. I didn’t know where my life was going; I didn’t know if I was doing the right thing or not by waiting upon Him to show me His will for my life. Certainly everybody I knew thoughts I was making a big mistake, but somehow inside I felt that God was pleased with my decision. I just felt so hopeless when I thought about spending 45 years doing that kind of a job! So as soon as I left work that day I looked around I could see the sun still out (it was summer) but there was nobody around! Everybody was living their lives while I was stuck in a warehouse…that’s when I made the decision that I would not step ahead of God’s timing no matter how long it will take Him to complete His work in me and show me His will. As soon as I made that decision while walking to the bus stop tears came down my eyes and starting running down my cheeks and I started singing “I have decided to follow Jesus no turning back…no turning back…” Until today I have not regretted waiting upon my God to follow His will for my life. Until today nobody understands why I didn’t go to university right after high school. Until today my family and friends don’t know why I decided to go back to school in 2007! I tried to explain it to few people who asked me but I don’t think they understood. It seems that waiting is not very popular among us, humans, especially waiting upon God.
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I was going to talk about work those four years and what my heavenly Father brought me through, but I then I will have to talk about love, a very dear friendship, patient, work place, serving God, listening to His voice, managing money, legalism, perfectionism, sensing others needs and going the extra mile. But I think each topic I mentioned deserves a project of its own—a photo of its own! Don’t you think? So I am skipping all of this which probably mounts to 75% of how God brought me back to school…but I really have no other choice here.
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PART 3 (How it all started!)
Let me tell you a bit about my childhood because I think that will help you understand my current decision to study mechanical engineering.
I remember when I was 4 or 5 years old my dad bought me a very cool remote controlled red Jeep toy car. It was a very fancy toy with rubber tires, and suspensions! It was about 7-8 inches long. Somehow I was more interested in opening it and seeing what is inside than playing with it! I mean it had a remote control and if you ever seen the toys from the 80s you know how much better quality, and detailed, those toys were in comparison to today’s toys. Needless to say within the first two days of having it I opened it with a screw driver, and I kept unscrewing every screw until I reached the motor! I remember the first time I saw the plastic gears and how they converted the vertical motion of the motor to the horizontal shaft of the rear wheels axel! I was so impressed that I thought whoever designed the worm gear (the upper gear shown here: blogs.toolbarn.com/brianm/uploaded_images/gear-worm-76674... was a genius! As a child I was so in love with motors and gears that I basically kept collecting them until today!
Because in my teens my country was under economical sanctions people suffered from a lot of things including lack of electricity. That meant kids had to spend their time doing things other than watching TV or playing video games. So I spend all my teen years building remote control cars from the ground up in many cases. I built toy boats, games, foosballs tables, airplanes…and whatever came to my mind! My friends would bring me their broken toys, or electronics and I would fix them. I would design on paper what I wanted to do next…and somehow deep inside I always wanted to be an inventor but never really knew that until recently!
I am very visual in nature which made me excel at geometry, and even know I can’t memorize things (even when I need to) and so I have to find a visual way to understand them so they stick in my memory. My dad is very visual and I am like him. That’s why I was never interested in the electronic components of machines…all I cared about were the mechanical parts. I also paid great attention to details, feel, and reliability when I built things, for example when I would built the remote control part of a toy car the buttons had to feel right and the remote control could not be designed the same way as a previous remote control I had designed!
I remember building a foosball table simply because I found a thin pipe and I thought to myself, “What can I make out of this?” I build a remote control car simply because I found a toy car wheel and I though what can I do with it! (I ended using it as the spare tyre anyway since it was only a single tyre!) Another time I built a small remote control car because of a Q-tip! I thought the plastic stick would look really nice as a Jeep cage! All I had to do is built the Jeep! People would joke with me saying, “Oh you found a bike’s tyre valve…all you have to do now is build the bike!”
I don’t know why I never wanted to throw things away: everything seemed to have a purpose or could be used in a useful way somehow. Of course in Canada this is a very strange idea, I mean I know friends who don’t even buy printer cartridges…they simply buy a new printer and throw the old one away!
Even though my dad was an accountant but he enjoyed carpentry work, wielding, fixing whatever, and building a lot of things in his spare time. That meant all the tools he had were mine to use! I actually can’t remember a week in my teen years without having a band aid on a finger or more! Thank God he never let me use the power tools because he was afraid that I would hurt myself seriously. Also back home we had a big house so I could work wherever and make as much noise as I wanted! And the weather was hot in the summer so I didn’t have to hide from the snow or anything like that. I used to work in the afternoon for hours building things.
When I came to Canada however all those opportunities were taken away from me. Suddenly life became too busy and fast paced. Tools are expensive. I didn’t have a space to put my tools even if I could afford buying them, and let’s not forget that I can’t make a lot of noise in apartment buildings.
When I started working in the warehouse my boss somehow sensed what I liked and from time to time he would ask me to fix a broken fax machine, water cooler, vacuum cleaner, electric saw, carts, tables, electric fans, paper shredder, and so on! He would ask me to build this and put together that. To take apart this and build a part for that! My love for design, building, and fixing things slowly came back to me, and again I realized I only enjoyed fixing things I could see and touch! That meant electricity, chemistry, biology, computers, and electronics were out of the list! That left me with my old high school love: algebra and geometry, and physics! (Interesting my dad loves those exact two subjects too!)
Also I have been an admirer of BMWs for quite some time but in those four years I was not sure if it was God’s will or not for a follower of His to like a certain brand of cars…especially the general view of BMW admirers is anything but likeable! (They are known for being arrogant for some reason!) And at that time I was kind of fighting legalism in my relationship with my heavenly Father, so loving a car brand was a big issue to me. So one day my youngest uncle’s wife told me that God does not desire to rob us of our passions, and desires if they are not against His will for our lives. I thought about it for a while and realized that a lot of things in life we do and we don’t ask God about it and He never bothers really, like wearing socks in the morning, or chewing gum! Yes, He desires a personal relationship with us but He is not an obsessed God. He is a perfect God who builds perfect—healthy—relationships with His children. I mean, I have a favourite spoon but He had never tried to take it away from me! So my passion for cars, especially BMWs, kind of helped me understand what I would really like to study, and that is: mechanical engineering.
But I still wanted to hear from Him. I mean I was as ready as a boiled egg! Any longer and it would have been too hard, but I was not going to move until I heard from Him, and I told Him so! (I would like to mention that right about this time I had a friend who God used to play a major role in my life and for that I will always be thankful to God and her.) Actually in that summer, of 2006, early one morning before anybody else come to work I was so eager to go back to school that I went and knelt on some boxes in the warehouse, with my Bible in my hand and asked God to be teacher and His Word my text book…I just wanted to learn!
In those three years of working at the warehouse I would sometimes come home and get my graph paper and design things that came to my mind when I was at work. I would spend hours measuring this and that and plotting this and revising that! And I loved it!
Late of July 2006 another morning where there was nobody at work I asked God to speak to me, to at least say anything in regard to school…just anything! I opened my Bible and started reading Psalm 20 which says:
1 May the LORD answer you when you are in distress;
may the name of the God of Jacob protect you.
2 May he send you help from the sanctuary
and grant you support from Zion.
3 May he remember all your sacrifices
and accept your burnt offerings.
Selah
4 May he give you the desire of your heart
and make all your plans succeed.
5 We will shout for joy when you are victorious
and will lift up our banners in the name of our God.
May the LORD grant all your requests.
6 Now I know that the LORD saves his anointed;
he answers him from his holy heaven
with the saving power of his right hand.
7 Some trust in chariots and some in horses,
but we trust in the name of the LORD our God.
8 They are brought to their knees and fall,
but we rise up and stand firm.
9 O LORD, save the king!
Answer us when we call!
As soon as I came across verse 4 it was like God telling me go ahead study what you want to and I will be with you. I was very scared when I read it, because I realized that He was not joking, and just as I had obeyed Him in waiting, now I have to obey Him in going ahead. But the part that confused me the most was not the second part of the verse, but the first part which says: May He give you the desire of your heart. This kind of surprised me because He did not say “desires” but “desire” singular and it was like God knew what my heart’s desire was. (And no I am not talking about school here…I mean education is important but I believe relationships are more important. Life is all about relationships whether to God, others or ourselves. Back home we have a saying that says, “Heaven without people is not worth a cent!” Who wants to be alone and in heaven!) This really confused me as I saw noway of this happening, I even have my Bible open in front of me and I had written beside verse 4, “How?!” And I honestly don’t know how He will do it, but you know what? I can’t wait to see Him do His work :)
So I had to tell my boss the next week that I was going back to school. I miss my work place a lot and my co-workers too…and I miss the forklift! It is so cool!
Next time you see a forklift operator, ask yourself, “Could he be a brother in Christ?” Because the image of forklift operators and truck drivers is very low in society. But some of the smartest, wisest, nicest, and even godliest people I have met are truck drivers.
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PART 4 (The end of the beginning!)
Of course my boss was very sad because I had to leave work but he was very happy for me; my other co-workers felt the same. I miss my workplace a lot. My family and friends were happy for me too, but somehow I got mixed reactions. Some family members, even Christians ones, thought I was going back to school to get a good job and have an easy and comfortable life and to get married to whoever I wanted! I personally would have stayed a forklift driver if it was God’s will for my life. And is marriage really about marrying who I want? Or whom God created to be my suitable life partner? (Genesis 2:18)
So I went back to what is called Adult Learning Centre (centres that teach high school courses) to upgrade a couple courses in the winter of 2006/2007. I also applied to two engineering universities in Toronto: Ryerson University and University of Toronto to study mechanical engineering. Amazingly both universities accept high school transcripts that are 4 years old or less which I did not know about! If God had me waiting any longer or I refused to obey Him in due time then I would’ve repeated all courses from last year of high school for me to be accepted in university!
I thought that they wouldn’t accept me because I was applying as an adult student. And deep inside I wanted Ryerson to accept me not U of T, because I’ve heard how difficult it is to study at U of T. God however had another plan because U of T accepted me much earlier than Ryerson so I accepted their offer first.
The saddest part of this entire story was when I received my acceptance letter from U of T. Because when I opened it and was so happy to receive it—after all I’ve been waiting four years for this moment—I realized I don’t have one single person who understands my joy. The closest person to me was my mom who thought I was going back to school to gain social statues! I actually didn’t tell my mom on the first day that I got accepted to U of T.
Why is it so difficult to explain to people why I had waited four years and why I was going back now. Until today nobody really understands. Is waiting for God suppose to be a phenomenon? I pray sometimes that God will give me a wife who waits upon Him, because if I desire to wait for His guidance and she doesn’t then our lives will run in separate ways. Over a year after I decided to go back to school my mom told me that it was good that I am going to be an engineer because, again, I will be more desired! I simply could not take those ideas anymore so told her, “Mom, I am not studying engineering because of you, my family, my friends, me or even my future wife [my mom, knows how much I love and I am committed to my future wife even though I don’t know who she is yet!]. I am going back to school because God has given me a talent and I am not going to waste it. I don’t care about what society thinks of me or anybody else; all I care about is God’s will for my life.” She never mentioned society and school again…and I think she finally understood why after four years I decided to go back to school!
I remember looking at my acceptance paper and not knowing if I want to accept the offer or not. You see someone I truly love was taken away from me last year, and that person was a big motivation to me—actually, apart from Jesus was the only true friend I ever had. I kept wrestling with God in prayer not knowing what I should do. I knew I had waited 4 years for this moment when I know God’s will for my career so I could go back to school and there I was not wanting to accept the university offer! So one day as I was praying and crying, as it has been for the last 12 months, I heard God telling me, “Do this for me.” I knew then that I was going to go to university for God (as I should have) to honour Him by being obedience to do His will for my life. So I accepted the university offer and here I am. Mind you studying has not been easy at all, because until today I come to God and cry out to Him because I truly loved that friend, but I want to be obedient to Christ no matter how hard it is.
Choosing to study engineering was, again, not a popular decision among people I knew. My mom wanted me to be a pharmacist like my brother-in-law, because engineering (especially the auto industry) is dying in Canada. But I have decided very early on that choosing my career will have nothing to do with making money or job availability; it will have to do with only the talent’s God has given me, His will, and His timing.
Mechanical engineering is not as difficult as Computer, or Electrical engineering, but I don’t care. God’s gift for me is in mechanical things; why do we always chase after the things God has chosen not to give us while we have not done anything with the one thing He has given us!
To be honest I will always be indebted to the prayers of the people who cared about me and prayed for me to go back to school, some I may not even know prayed for me. But I truly believe my mom’s prayers were the most effectives. I do know that God works according to His Biblical principles, but I believe we have no understood all of them. Somehow He seems to honour a mother’s prayer in a special way…may be because He is our heavenly parent. No one, apart from my Lord Jesus, has loved me, offered me, or desired my best as much as my mom had and still does. Even though she may not know what is God’s will but she desires my well-being and happiness.
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PART 5 (Final Words)
I would like to give special thanks, again, to Dr. Charles Stanley of InTouch Ministries. (But that’s another project!) And the biggest thanks to the one and only true God, the God I knew from the Bible, for never giving up on me when everybody else did. For comforting me and encouraging me when I had no one. And for working in my life and preparing me to be able to accept His good, perfect, and pleasing will. All those night of crying out to Him, all those days of painful physical labour, all those bus rides that I could hardly contain the tears, and all those moments of uncertainty He took and used them to heal me from the inside out. If He had gave me a car or something then I could think of repaying Him, but He has given me everything from physical life to eternal life and everything that falls between: how do we ever repay Him? He has been my Father when I didn’t have one. He has been my mother when she didn’t understand me. He has been my friend when I didn’t have any. He has been my comforter when nobody understood or was willing to listen. He has been my encourager when everybody thought I was making a mistake and making a mess of my life. He has been my guide and example when everybody pointed in different directions. How can I repay Him? And He was the only one who truly understood my joy when I received my acceptance to U of T.
If you are a young person, or any age for that matter, and you feel that there is something missing in your life pray to God to show you what it is, because it could very much be that you are ignoring your intellectual talents and gifts. No, that does not mean everybody has to go to university; may be He is calling you to offer a free day care service to your neighbour, or like a wonderful Christian lady I know on flickr: may be He called you to make Bible verses cards. Whatever He is calling you, no matter how old you are, I want you to know that He is a good God and if you surrender yourself to Him then He will enable you to fulfil His purpose for your life in His time. Remember, God prepared Moses in 40s to do His will. Moses did not find it easy but at least he was ready to obey.
I would also like to say that figuring what is God’s will for your career and starting to obey Him does not mean you can relax and He will write the tests and do your assignments for you! No, it is very much like marriage: You can find the person God has meant for you to marry but you will still have to work on your marriage to succeed.
I knew I was running away from God because there were two parts in the Bible I didn’t want to read and so often times I skipped over. One was the parable of our Lord about the talents entrusted to the servants by their masters. Interestingly the word ‘talent’ never meant ‘money’ to me as the verses indicate, rather it always meant ‘talent’ as in what God has bestowed on us of intellectual and spiritual gifts. So whenever I came across that parable I would stop reading or read something else, because I knew that I was unwilling to obey God especially in the beginning of those 3 years. Even though I had written down on a piece of paper early on that I would go back to school according to God’s will, but inside of me there were a lot of emotional issues God needed to work on.
Another part I constantly ignored was the words of the apostle Paul in 1 Timothy 5:8:
If anyone does not provide for his relatives, and especially for his immediate family, he has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever.
Those words cut deep inside of me. I loved my mom and dad but I was not able to provide for them things for their enjoyment. My mom’s dream has always been to go on trips but I could not afford it. She has always dreamt of having a Volvo or a Toyota but I could not afford to buy her one! I told God how much I wanted to make my future wife happy and that she didn’t have to work if didn’t want to but I could hardly afford my own expenses. Don’t get me wrong, I saved, and I never got in debt, and always had more than enough to give to others, but I felt that there is so much more I could do for others.
So if there is a part, or parts, of the Bible that you ignore ask yourself, “Why do I ignore this part or those parts? Could it be because God is trying to tell me something but I am not planning on obeying Him so I am trying to ignore listening to Him through His Word?” More than likely it is.
One day I was listening to Dr. Stanley and he said that if God has given us talents we need to get the necessary skills to put them into effect. May be go to university, college, or enrol in some courses to grow those talents and have the qualifications to practice them. You can’t imagine how stunned I was when he said that! He hits on issues we so desperately try to run away from! That’s why I admire him so much! I so desperately needed a godly advice and he seemed to offer it (all the time!) He made me feel uncomfortable by saying that, and God got my attention after that as if He was saying, “Ok, now you heard it--you can’t say you didn’t know--what are you going to do about it?” I knew God wasn’t telling me to go do whatever I wanted to get a degree, but He wanted my heart to be surrendered to Him: that I didn’t hold a grudge against education!
Another issue I always struggled with is that few people has mentioned to me that I was cynical in nature (God is still working on that), and the last person who told me that was my uncle and so I hated me being cynical, because it was obviously not something people liked about me. But then as I started school I found out that to be a good engineer you have to be cynical somehow: you simply could not settle down for whatever design you come up with because there are usually countless way to design something to solve a problem. The question is what is the best design that fits those objectives, functions, and constraints? And somehow me being dissatisfied with things around me always drove me to find how to do things better. I found out that there is a whole branch of engineering and specialization that deals with improving already existence designs! That’s when I realized that being “cynical” is not always a bad thing and it is certainly not something that makes us unholy. Even some of the great prophets and apostle in the Bible were cynical of things and people surrounding them. Even God used sarcasm sometimes.
So if there is something others don’t like about you don’t completely dismiss it as being useless, you never know: God might have given you that thing as a gift to be used wisely.
To be honest with you studying mechanical engineering is not easy, but it is really fun at least for the most part! And now I have so much respect for engineers, before I thought it was an easy job because there are so many engineers everything, but now I know how hard it was for them to get their degree.
I don’t even know if it is God’s will for me to complete school and get my masters in engineering. I had told Him that anytime He has another plan for my life I would obey Him even if it is on the last year studying! I actually don’t even know if it is His will for me to be alive for the next four years, but all I care about is His will for me now and knowing that I am obeying Him.
I realized how blessed I was when a couple of months ago I talked to a classmate and he said that he wanted to be a businessman and he was only studying engineering because the degree would look nice on the wall in his business office.
And somehow nobody believes that I am 7 years older than them at university! I have to constantly show my ID to my classmates when they find out that I am 7 years older than them because they don’t believe it! It seems that the general idea is that the older you get the less fun, happy, and funny you should become!
I think we, Christians, need to talk about school more often and when we see people miserable at their jobs we should at least bring their attention to the question if they are doing something they enjoy or not. And we also need to stop interfering with God's work in the lives of His children. I personally would do mechanical design even if I don’t get paid for it because I absolutely love it. Do you love your job? If not:
Obey God and leave all the consequences to Him.
Note: I didn’t say “leave” your job, I said “obey God” :)
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More Than Conquerors, Romans 8:28:
"And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose."
Jeremiah 29:11
For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.
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If you are wondering why my university spells school as “Skule” I think it is because engineering students are known for excelling in science and math but their lack of linguistic and communication skills! So they write it this way as to indicate that engineering students can’t spell! By the way, it is not something the university came up with, it is something the students came up with many years ago so it became a tradition! (The world ‘Skule’ is actually a registered trade mark for U of T Engineering Faculty!)
(Toronto, ON; winter 2008.)
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SCCA numbers their turns different than NASCAR, I am drafting myself into the first turn of the SCCA road course at Charlotte Motor Speedway. It is disconcerting at a 90 degree angle to me...wonder what it must be like in the car seeing yourself in the mirror or out the windshield. **BTW**, the rights to this photo are property of Darrell Bryant Photography. I have his permission to post it here, if you wish to use it for any reason, contact me and I will get you intouch with him to get his written permission. I only drive and pose for his wonderful photography.
Flickr friends, I was away racing this weekend at VIR...as you can see, close competition and a very fun and successful weekend. I think this is the most fun one can have with clothes on...!!! I will get caught up today after the racecar is unloaded.
As always my photos are taken by Darrell Bryant, they are also copyrighted by Darrell Bryant Photography. He is a crew member and I have his permission to use and post them at this point no one else does. If you wish to use the picture contact me and I will get you intouch to make arrangements with Darrell.
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if you would like to hire me out to do a photoshoot on your car using a location of your choice please get intouch .\
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A male...almost a foot long...in our yard!!!
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Ce dessin fantastique d'une femme casquée dans le profil est l'un des quatre dessins au fusain similaires Redon exécutés au cours de la dernière décennie du XIXe siècle. Le sitter, rendu étrangement muet par son revêtement de helmetlike et intouchable par ses aiguilles épineuses, varie légèrement d'une feuille à. Bien que la signification exacte de l'image de Redon ne sait pas, on a pensé que la servitude bizarre imposée à son modèle exprime la peur inconsciente de la sexualité féminine ou, au contraire, est un symbole de la fécondité féminine. Tout aussi important, cependant, est virtuose de la manipulation de Redon de charbon de bois et son abiliy pour capturer toute sa gamme de tons, de l'obscurité la qualité de velours du casque à la pâleur de la peau de la femme.
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Rencontre au hasard dans paris aujourd'hui , un regard , une hésitation ...
" - Bonjour , vous êtes bien Omar ?
- Oui "
Et là , appareil photo en main je lui demande si il est d accord pour quelques photo portrait .
Je change d objectif je monte le 70-200 2.8 et la je me fait charier '' Mais t'es un vrai paparazzi ''
Puis il se met en position , on voit tout de suite qu'il a l habitude une vrai star mais très simple et super sympa . je ne l embête pas plus longtemps le félicite pour son succès d'intouchable et pars très heureux.
Merci Omar sy =)
I love America!! But we have forgotten Who has made us great!! The Name of Jesus Christ has become "politically incorrect" to a great many Americans!! Sadly, we are reaping what we've sown. (Hosea 7:2)
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