Survivor
by Graham Wilmer (writing as Peter Andrews)
ISBN-1858522536
Specifications: 215x135mm, 124pp, Paperback
Price: £6.99
Publication: September 2004
Prologue
The heron and the kingfisher
In a dream, a small boy sat by a river. On the opposite bank, a kingfisher perched motionless on a bulrush, its head cocked to one side, its right eye focused intently on a group of dark shapes moving in the sparkling waters below. A few yards further upstream stood a heron. It too was looking into the gurgling, bubbling waters.
The boy watched with excited anticipation, waiting for nature’s pantomime to begin. Then, without warning, the kingfisher dived into the water like an arrow fired from a bow. A second later it emerged and darted back to the bulrushes, its blue and orange feathers resplendent in the bright, midday sunlight. In its needle sharp beak, a silvery fish wriggled and squirmed in a desperate attempt to free itself from its fatal predicament.
Then the heron struck. Swiftly, and with great precision, it plunged its long, powerful beak into the water. In the blink of an eye, it withdrew its head to display a much larger fish than the kingfisher had taken. With a single toss of the neck, the heron threw the fish into the air and swallowed it whole as it came down, head first, into its now wide open beak.
A little further along the river bank, a poacher hid among the reeds, his shotgun ready. Without warning, he fired twice: BANG...BANG. The boy let out a startled cry. His heart raced; he wanted to run, but he was frozen to the spot with fear.
On the surface of the water, close to the bulrushes, blue and orange feathers floated away in silence, all that was left of the beautiful kingfisher. The heron, still alive, thrashed around hopelessly at the water’s edge, its right wing blown off at the top joint.
The poacher emerged from his hiding place and walked slowly and silently towards the boy. When he reached the drowning heron, he waded into the shallow water, picked up the dying, bedraggled bird and thrust it into his grubby, blood stained shoulder bag. He glanced back at the boy once, then walked calmly away whistling to himself in triumph.
The boy woke up, confused and frightened. He did not tell anyone about his dream, but the images stayed with him through the day. That night he dreamt again that he was back by the river, but now all was dark, save for the stars and the silvery light of the moon that came and went as long, dark clouds sailed across the night sky. Somewhere, out of the darkness, a light appeared in the distance which grew brighter and larger as it came towards him. After a while, the light reached the opposite bank of the river. It was a lamp, carried by a man dressed in a long, white robe. The man raised the lamp above his head with his left hand. The boy could now see his face. It was a kind face.
On his left shoulder sat a large, dark object. The man moved the lamp higher, illuminating the object. It was the heron. The man then stretched out his right arm and opened his fist. Out flew the kingfisher. As it did, the heron leapt gracefully from his shoulder. The two birds flew across the river, alighted at the boy’s feet and began calling; the heron with its harsh ‘frarnk, frarnk’; the kingfisher with its shrill ‘chee-kee,chee-kee’. He stared at them with joy. They were alive. They were complete. The boy looked back towards the man, but he was gone. Only the lamp remained. The boy woke up, still confused, but not quite so frightened.
One by one, the years went by and the boy became a man himself. Great joy and great sorrow visited him on many occasions, not all in equal measure. But life’s journey taught him much, and, as with us all things on earth, time delivers wisdom, and through wisdom comes healing.
One day, at dawn, the man was woken by a sound he knew well. He had heard that sound many times before in his dreams. He got out of bed and went to the window. The sky was turning pink. As he looked out, a large, grey bird flew slowly overhead, turned and glided gracefully towards the river, calling as it went, ‘frarnk, frarnk’. In the willow tree at the end of the garden sat a tiny bird.
The man opened his bedroom window and leaned out. The bird glanced up at him before darting off in a flash of blue and orange, calling as it went, ‘chee-kee,chee-kee’. Suddenly, the sun broke over the horizon, its golden rays setting fire to the clouds. The sky was filled with the light of a million lamps. 'Ah, yes,' said the man. 'Now I understand.'
Comments
Man with the lamp
Wed 13th Aug 2008
So, let me to explain my dream about the heron and the kingfisher.
The brightly-coloured kingfisher represents the beauty of childhood innocence. We all lose it at some stage in our development, but for so many children it is stolen from us prematurely.
The powerful heron represents a child’s potential. We are all different so we all have different potential, but, if your childhood innocence is destroyed through abuse, you and your potential are damaged forever.
The young boy is of course me: an innocent child, trusting and full of wonder. The poacher needs no explanation, save to say that evil comes in many forms but there are few that match the destructive power of child abuse. The man in the white robe is also me, but now older, making my journey through life as best I can. The robe is white because it is my shield, it hides the old me, the dirty, me, the damaged me, the victim.
The lamp is knowledge - what I learned along the way, which is why I have written this book. I want the knowledge of what happened to me to be there as a record, not to ask for pity, but to help other victims of abuse, both male and female, find the courage and support they will need to recover from their ordeals and survive.
The dream I had as a boy was a premonition of the future. I did not understand it at the time, but I do now. It was showing me that despite all of the pain, there is still always love, the most powerful and wonderful of all mankind’s gifts, but to feel it in your heart, you first need to find someone to help you understand it. Only then does the darkness go away as the light and the warmth floods in.
Forward
Wed 6th Aug 2008
Year by year, hundreds of children of children are abused by adults who care for them and whom they trust. Graham Wilmer (writing as Peter Andrews because of legal restraint at the time) was one of them. As a day pupil in an independent school, he was sexually abused by one of his teachers, and ordeal that was to haunt him for the next 32 years. As an adult, he decided to face his experience of abuse and challenge the silence of those who had covered it up. This deeply disturbing book tells the story of moving from being a victim to being a survivor, and someone who now helps others on the long road of recovery from sexual abuse.Graham Wilmer's story challenges us all. The best possible response to this book is not shock or pity at what went on, but a commitment to listen to what survivors like Graham have to tell us, and then to ensure that such things do not happen in the future.
David Gamble
Co-ordinating Secretary for Legal and Constitutional Practice
The Methodist Church in Great Britain.