E ngā rau rangatira mā, e kui mā, e koro mā, e huihui mai nei i tēnei wā, tēnei aku mihi māhana ki a koutou. Nau mai, haere mai rā ki Te Whare o te Kawana Tianara o Te Whanganui-a-Tara.
I’d like to specifically acknowledge: Sir Anand and Lady Susan Satyanand; Your Worship the Honourable Andrew Little, Mayor of Wellington; Paul Swallow, Board Chair of Age Concern Wellington Region; Stephen Opie, Chief Executive. Tēnā koutou katoa.
And, of course, a very warm welcome to our centenarian guests – Hilda Rolston, Sister Cyprian, Neville Sandiford, and Alfred ‘Stan’ Welch – together with Anand Pande, who is very nearly joining their ranks. It is a pleasure to celebrate 50 years of Age Concern Wellington with you here at Government House.
Since your organisation was incorporated in September 1976, so much about the way we live and relate to one another has changed. But the need to feel seen, valued, and connected to others runs no less deeply through every stage of our lives.
Later life can remain rich with friendships, family, interests, and new experiences. But it can also bring changes that make connection harder to maintain – the loss of those we have known and loved, family living further away, or changes in health or mobility.
None of us should ever be reduced solely to our chronological age or circumstances. The American writer Parker Palmer expressed this beautifully when he wrote: ‘The human soul doesn’t want to be advised or fixed or saved. It simply wants to be witnessed – to be seen, heard and companioned exactly as it is.’
There is something profound in that idea. To be seen is to be recognised as the person we are – with our own stories, convictions, loyalties, and losses. To be heard is to know that our thoughts and experiences – our very being – matter as much as they ever have. And to have someone alongside us is to be reassured that we do not have to make our way through life alone.
That speaks powerfully to the work of Age Concern. Over the past 50 years, your staff, volunteers, board members, and supporters have helped older people across this region to remain connected and involved, while never losing sight of their independence, individuality, and sense of self.
Much of that work may happen away from public view, but human connection is never a small thing. Simply knowing that someone is truly interested in you – not only in what you need, but in what you care about, believe in, and hope for – can mean so much.
That same spirit is reflected in your anniversary project, A Century of Stories. By recording the experiences of people who have lived for 100 years and more, you are giving their voices, memories, and wisdom a life beyond their own.
Our centenarians have witnessed extraordinary social, technological, and cultural change – but their stories matter for more than the events they have lived through. They are stories of families and friendships; work and community; setbacks and celebrations; loves and losses; ordinary routines and unexpected turns – stories of lives fully lived.
Barack Obama once reflected that there are times ‘we may ask ourselves if we’ve shown enough kindness and generosity and compassion to the people in our lives. We recognize our own mortality, and we are reminded that in the fleeting time we have on this Earth, what matters is not wealth, or status, or power, or fame – but rather, how well we have loved, and what small part we have played in making the lives of other people better.’
I am sure this is the true measure of a life – not simply the years we accumulate, but the relationships we nurture, and the difference we make in the lives of others. And perhaps that is part of what makes A Century of Stories so precious: the opportunity not only to look back on a century of change, but to listen to what individual lives can teach us about what truly endures.
I especially welcome the intention to share these stories with younger generations – encouraging people of different ages to remain curious, to listen generously, and to recognise that no generation stands alone: each is formed by what it receives, and responsible for what it passes on.
To Hilda, Sister Cyprian, Neville, Stan, and Anand – it is a true privilege to have you with us here today. And to everyone who has been part of Age Concern Wellington Region over these past five decades – thank you for the deep commitment, humanity, and care you have brought to this work.
Those 50 years have been shaped by countless relationships, acts of goodness, and moments of connection – each one affirming the presence, dignity, and belonging of a member of our community. As Governor-General, I extend my warmest thanks and congratulations on this anniversary – and wish you all the very best for the future.
Nō reira, tēnā koutou, tēnā koutou, tēnā rā tātou katoa.