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Chapter 1.
NEGLECTING "THE DAY OF SMALL THINGS." Family life, and in particular our parents' rapid mood swings from an uneasy calm to unexpected rage, meant that my brother and I had to adapt very quickly, or be caught in a violent storm after the sunshine. During our early years, my younger brother Malcolm and I weathered many of these storms together, and all things considered we got on reasonably well. We shared most things, except the incessant bullying from my father's brutish temper. For me, this spoiled much, and benefited no one. He often said his philosophy was, 'Hit first, talk after.' Fatherly chats were not something he had with us, probably because it would have required love and patience, and the sharing of knowledge. We instinctively knew that love, patience and wisdom were not qualities our Dad possessed. Parental bullying suppresses emotional growth in so many children. And often those children become adult copies of their emotionally backward parents; dispensing abuse through ignorance and neglect rather than equipping themselves before having children with moral principles from the original Source of wisdom. Such parents fail to provide the building blocks of love, friendship and spiritual guidance for their children so that in turn they may be equipped to pass on good moral precepts to their offspring, with each successive generation being built up in love.
Our family
became seven during the time we lived in that small rented terraced house, just
seven miles north of Cardiff. Opposite where we lived stood the premises of
Messrs. T. F. Howells Ltd. (builder), which occupied two red-bricked terraced
houses as offices, with workshops and plant yards across the lane at the rear of
19 Bartlett Street. The main attraction for visitors to the town of Caerphilly
where we lived was the 13th century castle, almost completely rebuilt from the
foundations of its ruins
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