Madam Sylvanie Pedro-George 

Thursday 1 May 2025

MADAM SYLVANIE PEDRO-GEORGE

1913 – 2009

By Dr. Averlyn Pedro

Mommy sang her way through life—at home and at church. Her voice was as uplifting as her spirit. She welcomed the sunrise with her favourite song, “Whispering Hope,” and in later years traded it for Josh Groban’s “You Lift Me Up.” These were songs of hope and encouragement for an orphan whom people in the community called “foreigner.” Mommy by happenstance became a frequent traveller, moving with whomever adopted her. These experiences shaped her life. She developed to be many things to many people—a tireless volunteer, always showing up where help was needed, a globe-trotter with stories from every corner, a team player who never missed a beat, the family’s beloved dressmaker whose hands stitched the clothes of generations together, a passionate gardener and a prayer warrior whose faith could move mountains. But above all, she was the heartbeat of our family.

She was Madam Sylvanie Pedro-George, wife of Augustus George, a dedicated firefighter, and mother to five remarkable children who have carried her torch of compassion and commitment  reflecting her strength, grace, and servant-hearted spirit.

Mommy channeled her early orphaned situation into becoming a strong, focused, and ambitious woman with a value on continuing education and excellence as a means to success. She enrolled me at the district elementary school at four years of age because I was reading and writing. She introduced me to the children’s section of the public library where I would sit and listen to the stories that the librarian read to preschoolers. I would also draw and doodle shapes to represent my pets which were a dog, a cat and some chickens. I did not consider the snakes to be my pets since they were temporary visitors.

 I remember the first set of books my mother read to me. They were about twins who were separated during the war.

I began learning my mother’s style of choosing colour from the way she arranged colours in the home, whether hanging pictures or matching cushions with curtains and her artistic arrangements of her clothes on the clothesline that displayed various colours of her noonday wash. It was a lovely sight to behold, as the clothes swayed to the rhythm of the breezes of the northeast trade winds, enjoying their natural drying cycle.

My mother encouraged her children to strive for excellence in everything we did, and to always be truthful, honest and kind.  She was a woman who encouraged people to continue their education and utilize their time usefully and creatively.

She volunteeringly visited people who were shut-ins at institutions, as well as the vagrants on the streets and in the parks or those who lived under the bridges or beside trees in the hot tropical weather of Port-of-Spain. She would talk with them and listen to their stories. Mommy would take them home-cooked food and her delicious bread which she baked in her handmade ovens from empty oil drums. The meal she distributed was usually a pilaf that included green pigeon peas and carrots cooked with rice and stewed seasoned chicken in fresh coconut milk with cherry tomatoes. She used paper dishes for distributing the food.

My favourite image of Mommy was that of a bespectacled woman, seated next to the living room window, with a Bible, newspaper, or other reading materials at hand, and a notebook and pen resting on the window ledge while she moved backward and forward in her cushioned mahogany rocking chair.

My mother’s passion was traveling the globe. She was always ready and available for travel, fully equipped with an up-to-date passport, an expanding suitcase, a dozen or more handkerchiefs, her preferred choice over tissues, and other travelling facilities. She mused that adventure lay to the north and the east and thus realized this dream by travelling to the Middle East, visiting places like Israel, Jordan, Kuwait and Bahrain, and to European countries, like Germany, Italy, France, Switzerland and the Croatian community of former Yugoslavia. This was in addition to local trips to Tobago and other Caribbean islands.

In Croatia, Mommy met many people who had never seen a Black person before. Thus, on seeing my 75 years old mother, people began inviting her to their homes for coffee. A rumour quickly spread that my mother was the “Black Madonna.” This led to more people inviting Mommy to their gatherings where they slaughtered pigs, made sausages, and prepared lavish feasts for her as their guest. They treated Mommy very specially. It was an unforgettable experience for Mrs. Sylvanie Pedro-George.

Mommy was a spirited soul—a songbird who sang like a lark, a masterful baker, the family’s in-house designer, a joyful traveller, passionate gardener, clever inventor, and a storyteller whose tales sparkled with life.

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