The Birth

Happy Easter! Special treat today…a short, poignant tale written a few years back by my now 90-year-old Mom. The story was written at an Elderhostel on Manitoulin Island. Elderhostel, renamed these days as Road Scholar, is a program that combines travel with learning for seniors.  Please excuse the quality of the photos. They’re from long ago! Here’s Mom’s story…

The Birth

My father had five daughters. He also ran a gas station on a corner next to our house. His gas station was a gathering place — a hang-out— for his cronies. Here in the evening, they would gather to spin yarns, catch up on gossip, and have an occasional beer. We children would sit on the outside of the circle and listen.

One September evening, while listening to these stories, something happened. A woman hurried up. “Another girl!” she exclaimed.

The reactions of the men were different but the words the same. “Another girl!” they groaned.

“That’s enough, Bill,” one said flatly. “You better quit.”

And, he did. Six girls. Vera, Esther, Audrey, Eleanore (me), Sue and my last sister, Marjorie, born September 6, 1933.