..,A_/..H......._....__ -., w-.mu.~a- ‘

those early years, selling their beautifully crafted baskets, it was mother who always welcomed them to our table. On one occasion mother was cooking a fresh roast of pork for Friday’s dinner. Knowing their people to fast on that day, she offered to fry up some fresh smelts for them. But the older - gentleman who could not resist the (’2 aroma of the pork cooking, quickly

responded, we will fast a day when there is no pork. For her generosity she received a special basket for carrying her heavy loads of laundry to hang on the line, along with colored baskets that

hung on the wall to hold combs and brushes in.

Mother’s generosity was everywhere it seems. Hearing of families with no milk she would send us daily to bring some for their children, as soon as she milked the cows. Mother would knit many pairs of wool socks and mitts and give them to people in need. With father fishing and mother tending the farm we were, even in those tough times, a self— supporting family. There was little need to purchase much from the store, mostly only flour, sugar, molasses, tea, oil and matches. Our parents'

generosity was to families they knew were in dire need of food In our growing up years people would come to the door asking

father for help and they never went away empty handed. Several years after father passed away, mother was out working in her garden, when a gentleman approached and asked if she was Bill MacLeod’s widow. Introducing himself only as stranger, he took from his leather wallet a roll of bills and handed it to mother, saying it was money her husband had given him many years

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