“Letters of Love”

Hello beautiful and brilliant souls,

As I embark on this journey of being a writer, I find myself compelled to share my experiences with two authors who influenced and inspired my passion for writing. They were two beloved friends of my grandparents and I smile just thinking about how unique they both were. Their writing was infused with authenticity, meaning and purpose. I am aware of how blessed I am to have been raised in a faith community that nurtured my talents and capacities and to have been accompanied by my supportive family who encouraged me to read often and immerse myself in imaginary worlds of wonder. 

I was raised in a Baháʼí family, and I regard this as one of my greatest blessings. My upbringing nurtured a sense of integrity, awareness, and purpose within me that extends beyond the fabricated limitations one finds lurking in present-day society. My grandparents, Yasmine and Isgaac Gallow, as well as my great-grandfather, Toyar Gallow, embraced this Faith and it profoundly transformed their spiritual nature. Its truths weaved their way into the tapestries of their hearts and transformed their perceptions of reality by providing a spiritual state of solace and comfort. 

 My dear grandparents were exemplary, and they were pretty good at raising souls who were exemplary in their character too.  My grandparents raised their family with respect, honour, integrity, and a firm love of God. Their life revolved around prayer and meditation. They had a strong spiritual foundation and often included prayers in my birthday cards which I still cherish today. I loved receiving cards from my grandmother on my birthday because her messages were always so sweet. When I read the cards she wrote over the last couple of decades, it is clear that she had developed the skill of writing a message that made my 4-year-old- self beam with joy and my 29-year-old self cackle with delight. My beautiful mother has this skill too and, whenever she trotted across the globe, would write loving but funny notes in the entries of books she had bought for me. 

While going through a box of letters and sentimental notes I have collected over the years, I found letters from two very dear souls, Lowell, and Edith Johnson. These dear souls were great friends of my grandparents. They shared a love for reading and writing. Browsing through these letters reminded me of the abundant amount of love I have been fortunate enough to be a recipient of. 

When I was a kid, my parents encouraged me to write letters to the elders in our faith community, Especially Uncle Lowell, and Aunty Edith. The thought that I would receive letters in return excited me as only “grown-ups” got letters and I looked forward to receiving an envelope with my name and address on it. I took the task of writing these letters very seriously. I would spend my pocket money on colourful stickers and glitter which I would use to decorate the colour paper I was writing the letters on and this became such an enjoyable task that I naturally developed an affinity for the art of writing. The process of writing felt fun, playful, creative, and engaging which in my teen years strengthened the association in my mind of passion and purpose and how these two concepts enforce one another. 

I would often write to Uncle Lowell and Aunty Edith Johnson. They were both American pioneers who came to teach the Baháʼí faith in Southern Africa. They recorded beautiful stories and shared colourful tales of the history of the Baháʼí Faith. Uncle Lowell and Aunty Edith were wonderful teachers and shared their wisdom and guidance with sincerity and kindness. They were humble and God-fearing and never exalted their views above others. Although my grandparents and great-grandfather had embraced the faith, Aunty Edith and Uncle Lowell deepened their knowledge of the teachings of Baháʼu’lláh and fortified a deep sense of reverence and devotion within my family. Uncle Lowell often gave talks at gatherings and my grandmother used to giggle when remembering his attempts to speak Afrikaans. 

We visited Aunty Edith and Uncle Lowell at summer schools all over South Africa and would eagerly listen to their stories. I remember their loving hugs and I enjoyed how they doted on me, as any kid would. I found two of the letters that they had written to me in my childhood. Aunty Edith had a good way of perceiving that I needed love and encouragement and would write warm-hearted responses. She would beautify her letters with different stickers too and draw sweet images of farm animals and flowers that were flourishing. Uncle Lowell, however, wrote on a piece of paper torn from a notebook, slightly crumpled and it was more of a scribble than anything else. I remember being unimpressed as a child because I expected drawings, stickers, and colour paper too. But that was not Uncle Lowell’s style or manner. As I matured, I realized the significance of the contents of his letters and the wise counsel he provided as a writer. In one particularly ruffled letter, Uncle Lowell lovingly wrote:

 “Dear Vida, thank you for your letters. I love them. The way to become a good writer is to first practice telling stories that make people laugh or cry, then write them down just the way you would tell them. Good luck, Uncle Lowell.”

When I read the letter a little later in life, I could appreciate it more. It reminded me of how my mother would read stories animatedly to me at bedtime. When she travelled (as she often did) my dad was given the task of storytelling before bedtime, but I was left disappointed by his attempts to “make the faces and voices the way mommy does.”  

Uncle Lowell’s advice made me recognize a specific truth. Their letters were handwritten unlike the digital communication we misuse today, and which feels mechanical (literally and figuratively). The love they put into their work was tangible and I can only hope to infuse the essence of their love for writing on this platform. I am hoping to create an atmosphere of upliftment and warmth as they planted the seed of my passion and purpose and nurtured it with love, encouragement, accompaniment, and joyful attentiveness. 

Uncle Lowell and Aunty Edith wrote their books using the paradigm of love.  They bridged the inter-generational gap and during the time of Apartheid, they provided a platform for youth to voice their thoughts and ideals and exemplified the principles of the oneness of humanity. They rarely ever held the notion of “I told you so”. and encouraged the practice of humble learning They were committed to recording the stories of ardent believers in Southern Africa and made a special effort to connect with their readers through their books. They walked a path of service with a demeanour of genuine love. They embraced all and generously shared their wisdom in a state of joy and detachment.  Books like “The Eternal Covenant” and “Heroes and Heroines of the Ten-Year Crusade in Southern Africa” influenced my ability to tell a story captivatingly. 

When I think of Lowell and Edith Johnson, I think of two quotes. The first being: 

“…the best way to thank God is to love one another.” 

The second quote is “Where there is love, nothing is too much trouble, and there is always time”.

Today, I honour these two precious souls who gave my family the gift of enlightenment and wisdom. Who educated many with a warm tone and loving disposition.  Who walked a path of devotion, humility, and reverence.  Who both influenced me and many others with their words and embodied the principles of true faith and spirituality. They exemplified a sacrificial life through their thoughts, words, and actions to bring the knowledge of God to the hearts of mankind. They had the gentle power to attract, uplift and nurture the souls of many. They were indeed love letters from God and in truth they have inspired me to aspire to be a love letter too.