Recently two friends who are visiting Tobago invited me to lunch at their holiday accommodation. As we dined on an assortment of culinary delights, we spoke of childhood and how things were different in "our day."

One of my two friends, Fareeda, reminisced on how the doors and gates to their home were always open. It was safe to do that then, and their parents had what they called an open-door policy.

While chatting, I commented that she is a great chef and could have a restaurant.

She laughed, saying: 'If I ever charged for that gift then I would lose the gift!'

Even though I knew what she meant by that statement, I still asked her to explain which, in retrospect, I am glad I did.

As an example, she began to tell us of a quaint older woman who, thanks to her parents' open-door policy, turned up at their home one day, barefoot, asking for water. As the family got to know her better, she would rest in their garage occasionally for days on end, as she had been wandering about for a long time. She was very humble, wore a red scarf wrapped around her long locks, and carried only a small bag and a large wooden staff which she called "St Michael."

Fareeda went on to describe the woman, known as "Mother Baby," as having extraordinary gifts of "knowing and healing," which she used to help many people in the nation. In exchange, she would never accept money because if she did, she would lose that gifted power. Instead, she accepted food and a place to stay.

What does it mean that Mother Baby had the gift of "knowing?"

Fareeda recounted an occasion on which she and her sister asked Mother Baby what they would be when they grew up.

Mother Baby pointed to Fareeda and said 'You will be an agronomist' - and to her sister: 'You will be a stenographer.'

As children, not understanding those big words, they asked her what they meant.

'I don't know,' Mother Baby responded. 'I just heard them in my head.'

As predicted, years later Fareeda studied and gained a degree in agriculture and her sister became a secretary.

Fareeda recounted another story, of a man who abused his wife badly in the house across the road from theirs. They would often hear the woman screaming. One day Mother Baby went across the road, called out to the man and, when he came out, she warned him to stop the abuse. Enraged, the man kicked at Mother Baby's St Michael staff.

'You better watch that foot of yours,' Mother Baby told him.

Sometime later, the man's "kicking leg" had to be amputated owing to diabetic complications.

'She touched our lives and I am sure, traversing Trinidad, she would have touched many others,' Fareeda said. 'When I think of Mother Baby, Gandhi and Mother Theresa come to mind. Yet she was in a class by herself. She was mysterious and magical.'

As a child, Fareeda thought of Mother Baby as "a good witch." But as she grew older and wiser, she saw her as a deeply spiritual woman who gave all of herself to those she met on her journeys.

'She would go into trance and speak in tongues and when she came back sh