Te Wawata

Tuia ki te Aroha
Me te moteatea
Nga mahi o nga Tipuna,
I waiho ake nei.
Ma o ratou tohutohu
E tui te Aroha;
Kia honoa nga iwi,
O Aotearoa.
Ruia nga purapura
Ki nga hau e wha;
Mea kore ranei e tipu
To tatou ropu e.
Ko taku wawata,
Ko aku moemoe,
Ke tu kotahi tatou
I roto te Matauranga.
Mahia te korowai, te taniko,
Te piupiu me te tukutuku
Nga mahi i waihotia mai
E nga Tipuna.
Na te mamae, na te Aroha
Toko tangi atu e hoa ma
Awhinatia; Manaakitia;
Enei Taonga nui.
I roto i tenei wa,
Ko te iwi Pakeha
ko whaiwhai mai,
I enei mahi pai.
To tatou kaupapa
“Aroha ki te Tangata”
Te hua mai o tenei Kupu
“Tatou Tatou”

Tribute to Hine Potaka
Retiring President of the
Maori Women's Welfare League

I have visited many theatres, witnessed plays and musicals, but never have I seen or felt anything so beautiful or emotional as the real play of life that was staged at the Soundshell on Monday afternoon when the heroine of the stage, Hine Potaka, played out her part to perfection. The difference was the stark reality. The setting staged to perfection, the players fell into place. It was drama of the highest order. The five or six hundred members of the audience were gripped in an emotion so thrilling and glorious that their spontaneity

gripped them with tears and heartbreak. Never again will we see such a fleeting scene of beauty and pathos.

The stage floor was covered with wharikis, natural dried flax with black patterns — the chairs set out for important guests. There was a little lull, an audible sigh from the members as Hine entered, a beautiful korowai wrapped over her shoulder. She was limping — she had in one hand a walking stick for support. The other arm was supported by Bishop Bennett. You could hear a pin drop as she slowly wended her way onto the stage. A sigh from the audi-

ence when she sat down. We were all with her — helping her spiritually. It was indeed a noble gesture and maybe a very difficult one, for Hine is the kind of woman who would face a battery of guns without blinking.

It was a tense moment when she stood up, right hand shaking as she leaned heavily on her stick, to address the meeting. We realised as never before, her dedication to our Maori race was real, was genuine. Her words will never be forgotten. As she looked over the audience and raised her eyes to include the upstairs gallery, it was a sweet embrace — as she urged us all to continue the work she was so concerned with.

She was there against her doctor's orders — but her sense of duty was so great she felt she owed it to her members to come at great discomfort to herself, to explain her reasons for resignation.

The greatest tribute to any woman was enacted by members when the audience rose as one and sang from the floor ‘He puti puti pai’ — a beautiful flower indeed, a tribute of the heart from every one there. Emotional, spontaneous and delightful and grand — something we will never forget — we would not have it otherwise. That feeling of aroha for Hine was evident as members filed up and spoke to her.

Eve Magee, Waiariki