Winnie Zammit

Margaret Camilleri-Pace writes:

Winnie and I first met in May 1986 when the late Fr Vincent Debono, SDB, wanted to set up the St Patrick’s Choir. The only three adults were Winnie, Jean Soler and myself, apart from many other children who by the end of the first year had all left and were replaced by most of the present choir.

Jean left after just a few years and I had to resign in 1996 when due to my Rheumatoid Arthritis it became impossible for me to climb two flights of stairs twice weekly, but Winnie stayed on until the very end.

She had a big devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus, but most of all to Mary, Help of Christians, and as she was the one who prepared the list of hymns we used to sing on Sundays during the 10.15 a.m. Mass at St Patrick’s church in Sliema. She really loved it whenever it was the feast of Our Lady.

Physically, she was a small, ethereal-looking woman whose ‘frailty’ belied a strong will behind the facade. She faced her illness with great courage and never once did I ever hear her bemoan her fate or say how unlucky she was. She was far more concerned for others, especially her dear husband Andrew.

Whenever we met, which was quite often, the first thing she’d ask was how I was, sincefor the past 10 years I have beenin and out of hospital quitefrequently.

She would never talk about how she was feeling but always wanted to know if I was getting any better, and each time I was in hospital for any length of time hers would be the first, biggest and most colourful bouquet of flowers to arrive.

She was so very fiercely proud of her daughters Maria and Gillian, and lived for her family. As Fr Joe Cini, SDB, said during the homily to a packed church during her funeral, she had great faith in the Lord and Our Lady, so she accepted her cross without any complaints.

I am sure they are both looking after our dear Winnie in heaven where she so deserves to be.

I know she is looking down on us with her gentle smile and must have been so very proud to hear her beloved Gillian singing during her funeral.

What broke me down completely was when she sang Going Home, which was one of Winnie’s favourite hymns, and the catch in Gillian’s voice at the end especially said it all.

Dear Winnie, may you rest in peace in the arms of the Lord whom you loved so much where there will no longer be any pain.

We shall always miss you, and especially on my part I will never forget the day you left us, since from now on, August 3 will bring bittersweet memories, as it will remind me of my daughter’s birthday and your untimely passing away.

If only the world had more people like you, what a wonderful place it would be.