Taking to Mrs Twist...part 1

Today I had a Great Canadian Thanksgiving Dinner with some Great Canadians and a few Great Americans (who just couldn't wait till November...). I think this was the hottest Thanksgiving ever. It was as hot as a July weekend.

As usual I was at my friends' house enjoying the food and the people. When I described their Father's Day get-together I called the conversation thought provoking. Today in honour of our heat wave I am going to be a little more descriptive and graphic. After the meal, the dinner table turns into the "Hot Topic Table". These are brave and courageous people, Christian community activists who say what they think. None of that "don't talk about Religion and Politics" in this house. The discussion is lively and everyone is heard. Say what you think. Join in. You may not be agreed with but that's OK. You might just hear a new perspective.

I mention this not only because this discussion is part of the fun of these gatherings but also to put into context my confession. I had never talked to Mrs Twist because I was always listening t0 the conversations. And now I realize what I had missed.

I heard someone talking to her, this lovely, quiet woman with the quaint accent. She is an old family friend from years back, originally from Wales, now left with no family. She has been at many of these dinners and was always a quiet presence. In my defense I had never sat near her. I do actually converse and join in with the chats going on around me. I thought she was around 90 years old. Well, it turns out she was 90...10 years ago! Mrs Twist turns 100 next June. I immediately pulled up a chair beside her.

She came to Canada on a ship in 1947. It took two weeks to get here. She much prefers flying but feels she is no longer up to the trip. The Church she attended in Wales invited her to come back because they are also celebrating 100 years. She still has a brother in his 80's and a younger sister who are all that is left of the family of ten children. Her own only child, a girl, died in 1957 at the age of 14. Mrs Twist said that her daughter only finished a few months of high school when she was killed in a terrible car accident in a bad storm. She paused for a moment, seeming to bring the memories fully in focus. I paused also then asked what was her name? She smiled and said Mary. Her name was Mary.

I asked about her daily life and how she manages, and about her house. When she told me she lives in a war time house I said I live in a war time house too. She asked grinning, is it the smallest one? I said yes it is and we both laughed. You can't get much smaller than the smallest war time house! She mentioned her new shed but also talked about how the old shed landed in the alley upside down after a wind storm and all that was left was the dirt floor. She said she had told her late husband to put in a concrete floor! We laughed again.

Then we realized we had a friend in common....