In the heart of Boxtree Park, or Harrow Weald Park as it’s also known, there existed a green hut that once provided shelter to a homeless man known simply as ‘Bernard’.
Nestled near the tennis courts, just opposite the Boxtree Lane entrance, the hut became Bernard’s refuge, a haven from the harsh realities of life on the streets.
For anyone that knew him, Bernard or ‘’Bernie’ as ge became affectionately known was a gentle soul, weathered by the trials of life but retaining a spark of kindness that touched the hearts of those who crossed his path. Despite his struggles, he found solace within the embrace of the green hut’s humble walls and was often found there sleeping rough – after all, the place offered at the very least some shelter.
The local community recognised Bernard’s presence and extended a compassionate hand. People could often be found gathering with him, offering him food and drink, even sitting with him listening to his stories, many of which were about days gone by in Harrow.
Bernard’s gratitude knew no bounds, and he reciprocated their kindness by sharing stories of his life, offering wisdom gained through hardships, and lending an empathetic ear to those burdened by their own troubles.
However, fate can be fickle, and one cold winter’s night, Bernard’s journey in this world came to an end. His passing left an indelible mark on the park and the souls who had been touched by him in Harrow Weald.
The green hut, once his sanctuary, stood empty, carrying the echo of his presence.
In the wake of his departure, peculiar occurrences began to unfold. Visitors to the park spoke of a benevolent presence, an unseen guardian with a gentle touch that offered comfort to those in need. Some claimed to have glimpsed a faint figure resembling Bernard, his weathered face seen in the hut until it was taken down.
Word spread through the community, and as the seasons changed, people sought solace near the spot where Bernard had found sanctuary. They lit candles, shared warm meals, and exchanged stories of their encounters with the benevolent spirit. The green hut, though physically absent, remained a beacon of hope, a reminder that compassion and empathy could transcend the boundaries of life and death.
To this day, whispers of Bernard’s spirit continue to weave through the park’s pathways. Visitors sometimes catch a faint scent of tobacco, his preferred indulgence, as if he were nearby, offering silent companionship to those who are lost or in need of solace.
So, if you find yourself wandering through Boxtree Park at dusk, spare a moment to reflect on the legacy of Bernard, the gentle spirit who found solace in the green hut.
