By the time Janet Winter got to the cemetery, the coffin was already on the strops and partly lowered into the grave. The pile of earth to cover the coffin was discreetly off to one side, and the edges of the grave covered with green faux grass.
The Church service had been held in a Samoan Church. The majority of it had been spoken in the Samoan language. Out of courtesy, a brief outline of what was being said showed in English on a large screen. Most Samoans retained a strong religious faith, even after they had left their home islands and settled in New Zealand. Their singing came close to lifting the roof off the Church building. It was an impressive building. While not the size of American Football Stadium Mega Churches, it could hold up to 400 people once the various sliding walls were open. Even so, the numbers attending Jesse Solomon's funeral were so large, the service had to be broadcast on speakers and a screen, outside the building. In contrast to the mostly casual clothes worn by those of European descent, the Samoans were in their 'Sunday best' dressed in mainly white.
There were many tears. The eulogies and stories were many and often long. Samoans had adapted many European church habits, and now celebrated the deceased's life. While not able to understand much of what was being said, Janet was left in no doubt what a valued member of the Church and the Samoan community Jesse had been; from Sunday school teacher to Bible class leader to sport and community service, he had been an enthusiastic, although quiet, member. He had lead by example rather than word.
Janet had sat at the Church with those teachers attending from Shakleton College: The Principal, Vice Principal, and others who had taught or interacted with Jesse. Also in attendance were various dignitaries', Police, and sporting heroes. It appeared to Janet that outside school Jesse had been regarded as a great leader with an almost God like status. There was no doubt that he had been intended as a future leader in the Samoan community, if not New Zealand and the world. His selflessness was legendary. It appeared that while Jesse's Dad worked in what some would regard as a lowly occupation, he was a Matai, or of the Chiefly class.
In contrast to the European tradition, Jesse's death by suicide was openly discussed. The many people mentioning it emphasized that while Jesse knew that he was loved, for just a short moment of time things had so overwhelmed him that he had been unable to see that love. It was made plain that neither the Solomani family nor the Samoan community blamed anyone for Jesse's death. Equally clear, from the European community, was that some one was to blame. Janet had looked round to see if Palmer was present. She had not seen him at the Church but did notice his car parked some distance away when she headed for the cemetery. She presumed he had attended.
As Jesse had died on a Friday, there had been a bit of time for the news to circulate amongst the college community over the weekend. At the Monday morning assembly, the Principal had broken the news to those who had not heard, and made counselling available for those finding it hard to understand Jesse's death. Palmer had appeared unaffected by the whole matter and carried on as usual. Whether that was an act or not, nobody knew. At breaks and lunchtimes, Palmer sat alone. Janet had attempted to befriend Palmer, but he had made it clear that he did not need, or want, her misguided 'Goody, goody two shoes' presence.
Janet pulled her mind back to the present where the Minister had picked up a handful of dirt and was dribbling it onto the coffin. Although spoken in Samoan, Janet understood 'Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust'. She went forward and joined the queue dropping roses onto the coffin.
Janet next went to the Solomani family and hugged them. "I am so sorry for your loss," said Janet. "I cannot begin to imagine your hurt. I know it sounds trite, but if there is anything I can do, please do ask."
"Thank you Mrs. Janet," responded Mr. Solomani. "You were a favourite of Jesse's. Our faith helps us."
"It's Miss actually," corrected Janet.
"Oh you poor thing," said Mrs. Solomani. "You a nice looking girl. You want me to find a nice man for you? You need a man."
"Oh that's all right Mrs. Solomani," smiled Janet. "I survive."
"You call me Millie."
"Okay, Millie it is."
Janet walked back to her car thinking how marvelously the Solomani's' worked their Christian faith.
If only," she thought, "Europeans could do the same."