In these festive times let us not forget the small minority of Saint Martiners, Sint Maarteners and mixed people. You see, unlike many other places in the world, in Sint Maarten you may see a black Sint Maartener and think he is pure black, or on the contrary a white Sint Maartener and think he is pure white.
Let me elaborate: Manman, my great-grandmother, was a white. Yes, Papa
Boco’s mother was a white woman. Midwife by profession, Lilieuse “Lillian” Wescot, born in 1902, married a poor black farmer and lived quite poor but was rich in love.
Her love for God, her love for her husband Arthur, her love for her hard-headed son
J.K. (I love you, Grandfather), and her love was passed down through the generations to her granddaughter Giselle and her grandson David.
That woman could talk, Lord, have mercy, but around this time of the year, she would make the world’s best coconut tart. Me and my sister would suffer through all the chat just to get a taste of that tart. Oh, the memories. She died in 2004 at the impressive age of 102.
Her little sister lived a long life too. She lived until the age of 101. She left to mourn, among other family and friends, her beloved son Louis Constant Fleming. So, in these hard times of racial tension on the French side of the Island, let us not forget that vie is vie.
Special dedication to Melle Pouleriche, Benjamin Beta and the distinguished Madame de Faleo of L.C.F. Hospital and my long-time friend Gary Beauperthuy.
A Merry Christmas to one and all!
Davis Ezekiel Jermin
