The Providential Portrait of Dame Elisabeth Murdoch
A ring of the doorbell by mistake can sometimes be a life-changing one, not only for the person who rings the doorbell, but also for the one answering it. When the doorbell rang on that sunny Wednesday afternoon in December 2002, I never imagined in my wildest dreams that I would get to meet the most well-known and much-loved matriarch of Australia. She was Australia’s equivalent to Britain’s Queen Elizabeth the second. The demure, platinum white-haired lady with the beautiful smile and twinkling royal blue eyes was Australia’s own Dame Elisabeth Murdoch, our greatest philanthropist, and mother to Media Magnate, Mr Rupert Murdoch.
My daughter, who was home early from university, called out to me in Greek that there was a little old lady walking up to our front porch. I poked my head from the kitchen to see who it was and immediately recognized the face that I had seen hundreds of times on the television news, in the newspapers and in the women’s magazines. Had I not recognized the face, or known who she was, I may well have answered the door differently and lost the opportunity that providence had provided for me. Instead, the excitement in my voice and the joy of seeing her that was reflected in my wide, beaming smile, was reciprocated by an equally wide beaming smile. It was an instant friendship, one borne of love, despite an almost fifty-year age difference. Our unique friendship blossomed over the ten-year period that it lasted, up until December 2012 when Dame Elisabeth Murdoch became a part of the universe.
When the sculpture of her face was placed in the Church steeple of St Paul’s Cathedral in Melbourne, she said to me, ‘One day I will be looking down and smiling upon you.’ That day came all too soon for me, but I was left with cherished memories of the many visits to Cruden Farm, and of her greatest gift to me, the honor of painting her portrait for the Archibald awards. The painting found its home at Cruden Farm, where Dame Elisabeth had it hung outside her bedroom so that she could view it often, even when in bed.
Eleven years after her death, Dame Elisabeth’s beautiful smiling face appeared to me in my dream, as if to urge me on for some unknown purpose. Borne out of that dream, was my memoir, ‘The Providential Portrait of Dame Elisabeth Murdoch’, and the establishment of a not-for-profits charity that will follow the example set by Australia’s greatest philanthropist. I have dedicated the memoir to the memory of my dear friend Dame Elisabeth Murdoch, and I am forever grateful that providence sent her to my home.
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