Page 49 - Bulletin, Vol.78 No.3, October 2019

refugees or privately with his family. His life was a synthesis of humanism and
Jansenism. Like Montaigne, he had the sufficiency to be content, a way of life that
placed the material world in its rightful subordinate dimension. Madjid is also an
explorer's soul; from Afghanistan where he worked in the framework of French
cooperation to Africa and Asia, he took advantage of his retirement to discover new
horizons. His curiosity took him to Sydney, St. Petersburg, Brazil and Canada, and it
was these travels and these encounters that have made him an open-minded man, a
man of great culture, who knows how to listen and who, like a wise man, knows how to
summarize in a few words the abundant complexity of a situation. Madjid was tactful,
with a virtuous soul, kindness and empathy that radiated around him, whether in his
daily life with refugees or privately with his family. His life was a synthesis of humanism
and Jansenism. Like Montaigne, he had the sufficiency to be satisfied, a way of life that
returned the material world to its rightful subordinate dimension. In recent years, Madjid
has had to endure the suffering imposed by his illness. he has gradually cut himself off
the active world, making his life less social and more a retreat of reflection and
meditation. He was aware of his impending end and prepared himself for after life.
Madjid will naturally be missed by his family and friends who will have no other
consolation than the tears of helplessness and silence. But more broadly, he will be
missed in the fight against injustice because his convictions were pegged to his body
and because the genuineness of his action dominated from the top of his person the
hills and mountains of the achievements, alas undermined by the withering commitment
of the men and women of our time. May he rest in peace.

"CRABBIT OLD WOMAN"

By Phyllis McCORMACK

What do you see, nurse, what do you see?
What are you thinking, when you look at me-
A crabbit old woman, not very wise,
Uncertain of habit,
with far-away eyes,
Who dribbles her food and makes no reply
When you say in a loud voice, I do wish you'd try.
Who seems not to notice the things that you do
And forever is losing a stocking or shoe.
Who, unresisting or not;
lets you do as you will With bathing and feeding the long day is fill.

Is that what you're thinking,
Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse, you're looking at me.

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