Jesse

When I was in Melanesia, staiying with the Melanesian Brotherhood in Tabalia, I made friends with a young child called Jesse. He was playing with a tiny kitten (called ‘gift’), and was saying the rhyme that my mum used to say – “rat a tat tat, who’s that? Only grandma’s pussy cat. Where’s your money? In my pocket. Where’s your pocket? I forgot it. Oh you silly pussy cat!” He was delighted when I joined in with the rhyme and we became firm friends for the next few days.

I met a kid called Jesse, maybe 4
or 5 years old. His dad was visiting
the place where I was staying. On the porch
a kitten and a parrot with a wing
that wouldn’t work. At first he was quite shy
but soon he opened up and we would chat
in broken English and in Pigin – I
could never quite get confident with that.
The kitten, like the child, was only young.
The parrot, like the child, was filled with joy.
And I, just like the child, felt small. Among
These holy men of faith I am a boy.
But then the words of Jesus come to mind:
Be like this child – God’s Kingdom you will find.

(c) Rich Clarkson 2026