When Diana, Marcel Gazelle and I arrived at Johannesburg early that year, I had just read Cry, the Beloved Country by Alan Paton and wished to tell him how much his book had moved me. I telephoned him in his school at Diepkloof, asked if I could be of any use, and was invited to play for the boys. On the stoep, as a veranda is called in those parts, stood an old broken-down piano, which Marcel did his best with, while ranged in lines in the sunshine, the boys squatted on their haunches. We played a very light piece, which they seemed to enjoy, then exchanged roles to listen to the children’s lively rendering of various Christian hymns. << less