Yesterday, I stood in the presence of greatness, profound and true. I went up to Settle in North Yorkshire to visit Miss Garnett, with Lizzie, Linda, Eseoghene, Samantha and Dzifa, all of us from Class of 1983. It was something I had always wanted to do, but had never found the nerve to do alone. There had been opportunities for some of the old girls to meet her after she left Gey Hey - at Wesley Chapel or perhaps a Dinner Dance or even at Settle where she lives, but I had not seen Garnie since the day she got on Cynthia, the school bus, to leave Wesley Girls High School for good, while we all stood in Attra Lane in the bright sunshine, clapping our good-byes. Our class was in Form 3. The train journey up North was exciting. We abandoned our reserved seats and got together in Coach C and talked happily all the way to Leeds, and onwards to Settle. Linda joined us by car and brought along her beautiful daughters. The town itself, nestled between the scenic Yorkshire Dales and the Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty that is the Forest of Bowland* had, despite the overcast weather, the sort of beauty one only saw on truly memorable postcards - picturesque in every way. It has a real railway station, of the kind you imagined while reading Enid Blyton. Miss Bowman was waiting for us there when we arrived. Miss Bowman left Wesley Girls in the early 70s and so of course our class did not meet her, and for me this was my first contact with her. She is a strong, beautiful lady with excellent posture who did not even seem to need her walking stick. As we all walked in the light drizzle to the Lion for lunch, we made small talk and it was interesting to find out she was born in China, and so I guessed that was how she had caught the travel bug, this need to go to and see and live in other parts of the world. Lunch was good. The Lion is a 4-star inn where attentive waiting staff serve great food. The chocolate indulgence at the end was to die for. We took many photos and shared stories. I was so happy when Miss Bowman said she remembered my mother, Margaret Forson (Class of Archie). "Some you don't forget", she said. Afterwards, we dropped her off at her house and then continued to the home where Miss Garnett (Mrs Howarth) now lives. It was such a privilege to see Garnie again after all these years. My fondest memory of her while at Wesley Girls was that afternoon in Form 1 when she came across Barbara and I carrying my chopbox about, looking for a carpenter to help me open it. I had either lost my padlock keys or forgotten my combination number. Miss Garnett helped us break the padlock, all the while referring to me as Margaret. I remember thinking how amazing it was that she could do everything, even break a padlock without destroying it. We introduced ourselves to Garnie by name and she seemed to remember each of us. We talked and sang the school hymn, and then we talked and sang hymns from the Methodist Hymn Book and the hymn sheet. We asked Garnie her favourite hymn and sang that together - Be Thou my vision - twice. We talked and sang some more, from the cantatas - David, Joseph and A Grain of Mustard Seed. We shared our stories from school. It was such a joy for each of us to have the opportunity to tell Garnie how we remembered her and what an influence she still is in our lives, and to say thank you. It was very touching. Like the true teacher and mother she is, she wanted us to tell her what we did, and to hear how we had got on with our lives, and in each story, there were traces of her input - dignity, discipline and leadership. Again many photographs were taken. The true lady that Garnie is, even in her weakness and unsteadiness, she took her scarf and shakily tied it around her neck for the photos. I shared with Miss Garnett how I had been touched by her humility while at school. During an evening rehearsal of her last cantata, A Grain of Mustard Seed, we had to sing a part that went, "Thank you God, that in your grace you gave us Miss Garnett". At that point she got up and waved and left the rehearsal. She clearly did not feel comfortable just sitting and having us sing her praises like that although boy, did she deserve it. I went on to ask her why she had left all the comforts of home and a life in such a beautiful part of England, to go to Africa to teach a bunch of kids from a totally different culture, a far cry from everything she was used to, at the tender age of 25 years. As I have already alluded to, Miss Garnett is now frail. She speaks so softly we had to strain to catch her every word, and sometimes we didn't, but her reply to my question was unmistakably clear and without hesitation. "It was the voice of God". There had been many emotionally charged moments for me, and I believe for all six of us, throughout the afternoon, but I cannot describe how poignant that particular moment felt for me. It was almost surreal, and I realised I was standing in the presence of greatness, a life of sacrifice by Miss Garnet in response to her calling, and I will be eternally grateful for the opportunity.