I've just been sorting through a pile of papers on my desk and I've come across something that rather touched me, so I thought I would share it with you. There are a lot of references to living folk, so I'll just quote a small part of it. It was my mother's tribute to her sister after she had died. My aunt was indeed a lovely soul. "When I was just a toddler, we moved from Lancashire to live in a whitewashed cottage in Wales, where Jessie was to start school in the village. Our neighbours in Lancashire had given her a pair of handmade clogs as a parting gift, of which Jessie was very proud. She wore them for her first day at school, but after a day of listening to clog irons, worn with such happy exuberance, the teacher banned clogs the next day. It is February now, and the woods around the cottage where we lived are white with snowdrops. 'February Woods', our younger brother called them. Jessie was late for school one day, and she stopped to gather a bunch of snowdrops, which she would give to the teacher. As she reached the village, a tall, gaunt woman, who never smiled, walked down the steps from her house where she lived. Impulsively, Jessie skipped towards her and thrust the snowdrops into her hands. The woman stood there for a few moments and then turned, and went back up the steps to her house. Some time later our mother made friends with the woman. She told her how on that day she had felt that life wasn't worth living. That she couldn't face life any more. She had no family and no friends. She had decided that day to walk far away, deep into the remote countryside, until she lost her way in the woods, when out of nowhere a little girl had appeared and thrust snowdrops into her hands. At heart, Jessie has always been that little girl, skipping her way through life, and giving posies whenever she could. They were not always in the form of snowdrops..." And it goes on to list the huge amount of charity work and fundraising my aunt was involved with as an adult living in Coventry - 'she always had something to give, even when she had little'. She experienced hardship too - including having to be dug out of an air raid shelter in the Blitz. An amazing lady, my auntie.
What a beautiful story. A lady who must be sorely missed. How lucky you were to have her in your life and family.
How emotionally uplifting. I've always said to my mates, who look at me as if I'm not all there, smile at someone who is walking towards you, especially the older ones, as that may be the reason they have that day for carrying on living. You never know when that smile might save you
Ah, you've started me off again, Wendy. Always, Chimp. I think sometimes people regard me as the grinning village idiot, but a smile can go a longer way than you think. Thanks everyone.
We moved from a place where no one ever spoke or smiled at a stranger. Now we can’t keep up with the garden because everyone stops to yak. Every dog in the vicinity has watered all our trees whilst their parents have a yarn and welcome us.
