Where Poverty Stalks

Sun (Auckland), Volume I, Issue 146, 10 September 1927, Page 16

Where Poverty Stalks

Round Humble Auckland Homes With a City Missioner Hope’s Grim Battle Among Workless A HOME in which the only piece of furniture is a sewing machine. Another where children sleep on sacks on wire stretchers.

Still another in which twc for bed-clothes. These are the appalling homes; homes where the inh where the next week’s rent is \ ND these poverty-stricken homes are not confined to one district alone —they are in the city area, in Newton, in Ponsonby, in Remuera, in every suburb. Yesterday afternoon a representative of THE SUN toured Auckland with the Rev. C. G. Scrimgeour while he made his calls in the name of charity, delivering blankets, flour and sugar to many of these destitute people. Despite the poverty these people bore themsel.'es with an appealing air of cheerfulness, it was astonishing. “What is the use of getting down-hearted," smiled one brave woman whose baby clung round her neck and another tugged at her shabby frock. “We must face it until my husband finds work. If I get down it does not help him.” Another held a tiny baby in her arms. In his auburn hair there was a toy Union Jack. “Hello, what’s this?” said the City Missioner, giving the child a friendly pat. “That’s a good old flag, that is,” was the mother’s reply. Nowhere was there any hatred or bitterness. Hope beamed like a steady light on the faces of the women. But in their eyes there was a lurking fear which the brave smiles and expressions of hope only disguised. “If my husband could only find work,” was the perpetual request. “Work —all our troubles would end with work.” But there were other cases. Women whose husbands had deserted them, leaving them to struggle alone for their children. GALLANT OLD LADY One particularly sad case is that of an old woman of 75 who lives scarcely a stone’s throw from Queen Street. Her son has not worked since July, but the gallant old lady, almost a cripple with rheumatism, earns enough to pay the rent and keep a dilapidated home together. With her son she lives In a tumble-down house for which she pays £1 a week rent. “Not a bite of focd has passed our mouths to-day,” said the son. His mother was away, earning enough for a meal. Not far away in the same street a woman with a sick husband and four: little children offered her grateful thanks to the missioner for the gifts. One needs to hear the trembling voices of f hose people offering their thanks to understand what poverty means. Still in the same street a woman with five children faces day after dreary day with a cheerful smile. Her husband has tried for work for five months, without success. The rent i 3 25s a week. LIFE A NIGHTMARE A street away an ex-soldier lav in bed with his tiny baby beside him. For some months he has suffered from ulcers on the leg. There are four children in the family. The house has only the barest necessities in the way of furniture. Life Is a nightmare for that family, but the husband hopes to be about, soon, searching for work. On to another part of the city, this time to call on a grandmother who rises at 4 o’clock iu the morning, works until S and then rests until shti can go to work again in the evening. There are four in the family (one of whom earns £ 1 a week) as well as tlui little grandchild. This woman’s hus-

blankets serve a whole family conditions in some Auckland ibitants know no comfort, or coining from. band left her six years ago, but she has fought on ever since. Two families live together in a small house in another part of the city. They are relatives. One family left their home when the bailiffs claimed the last of the furniture. One husband has not worked for a year, though he says he has tried again and again. The other is away on Government relief work.

With three young children, one a baby of two months, a sad little woman whose eyes shone with happiness when the missioner presented her with three weeks’ receipt for her rent, is facing the world hopefully. Her husband was sentenced to six months’ imprisonment recently. She works for hajf a day a week. Yet she: hopes for the best in her little two-roomed home, with its spotless floors and dismal outlook.

One of the most phthetic cases is in the Remuera district. The husband was away searching for work. Five young children prattled round the house, happy while there was a bite to eat. The little ones slept on sacks. There were others on whom the missioner called with his gifts—gifts made possible by the kind-heartedness of a man who is anxious to do something to relieve the wretched conditions under which these people IJve. His motor-car was at the disposat of Mr. Scrimgeour for the afternoon. THE BRIGHTER SIDE The work of the Charitable Aid Board must not be forgotten. Almost every home was receiving support from this institution, for without it people could not live. Mr. Scrimgeour and his workers were known at practically every house; he seemed to be an old and very trusted friend, who felt the poverty and the conditions just as much as the poor people did themselves. But there is a bright side to this picture. Most of the homes were spotlessly clean, as were the chubby, laughing children. And nearly everywhere there were cage birds, usually twittering canaries or a cooing dove. Here and there, across broken fences or deserted gardens, the peach trees flung their prodigal, pink blossoms toward the blue sky. Their beautywarded off the poverty-stricken look of some of those humble Auckland homes.