This feeling stayed with me during the day as each step I took placed a landmark of memory in view. As I walked up the shovelled path to our neighbour’s house, he flung the door open and shared words of welcome and blessing. Immediately, I saw the large Christmas tree recently hauled from the back bush, filled with a history of Christmas ornaments to tell the old story. The Century farmhouse soon filled with friends and relatives of all ages. The children played at our feet while the men sat in one area to talk about feed prices and ways to get the Massey tractor started and the women talked about recipes, Afghans and new babies.
Aggie’s Storms. The Brucedale Press
WinterGrief. Essence Publishing