Sharon Dow

My mind is wandering through the rooms of our new home. So many memories here; my growing up years. I would live here through grade school, high school, Teachers’ College, and my first year of teaching. I would laugh, cry, argue, study, practice piano, sing, entertain, fall in love, have my first date, make many new  friends, talk hours on our phone and all the other things to be experienced while growing up.

My mother had the gift of hospitality and our rooms were filled with guests; family, friends, visiting missionaries, church meetings, showers. I’m sure that not a week passed that we did not entertain at least one group of people. Sunday night after church was a favourite time to either have guests, or be a guest at someone else’s home. That was a part of our culture; friendly people who enjoyed being together, sometimes with just toast and tea! Many other occasions brought forth my mother’s talent for baking and fancy sandwiches.

Both of my parents would be involved in preparing for company and I would be conscripted also, sometimes happily, sometimes under duress. First was the planning session. Mom would find a scrap piece of paper and the plans would begin. Dad’s part would be to retrieve the meat grinder from its place of concealment, set it up on the edge of the table and grind the meat for the sandwiches. No one made better sandwiches than my mom. I’ll never forget the ground roast beef with pickles and mayo; ground ham or chicken; tuna or salmon; egg salad or ribbon sandwiches with layers of egg salad and a layer of sliced tomatoes; cream cheese with cherry (these would be made from unsliced bread, but in lengths and rolled, then cut in pieces – round with a cherry in the middle; and my favourite – asparagus in the same rolled form cut in small bite-sized pieces; and of course peanut butter and banana. On very special occasions like a wedding shower; the bread would be tinted pink or green making them even more appealing to the eye and open faced sandwiches would join the others. With all the crusts sliced off, it was a delectable feast. (The crusts would often later be turned into bread pudding.)

The sweet breads came next; cinnamon, lemon, pineapple with cherry and others. But the desserts: this is where my mom shone. Scotch cookies were her crowning glory, with a swirl of butter icing and a piece of cherry, they looked great and tasted even better with that melt-in-your mouth kind of appeal. Squares of every description came from our oven as well as cakes of all flavours. No one ever left our house hungry except by choice.

Tea and coffee flowed with the conversation. I learned so much about life and living in our world from listening in on all the conversations. Back in those times, children were not sent off to play in another room; we were a part of the whole and as such were expected to be with the group. The topics ranged from comments on Bible lessons, babies, trips, missionary stories, world events, politics – it was a virtual classroom of learning. Laughter was a big part of each event and I remember the happiness and excitement of company. I’ve never lost the excitement and love hosting company myself but I’m afraid the lunches are simpler and sometimes the goodies come in boxes from the local supermarket, but the happiness and topics of conversation remain the same.

We had groups of people from a couple to 40 or more, all crowding into our rooms and happy to be there. The stained glass windows beamed down on our guests and we were content.