Elora

By Bec
I was a wee bit surprised to hear a light knocking on my door this evening. I was tempted to grab some form of protection - you never know when you’re a townie - but we don’t have anything much more dangerous than a butter knife. I was glad I didn’t, though, when I opened the door to a short, elderly woman who introduced herself as our upstairs neighbour as she gave me a housewarming gift she had made. I was touched. I invited her in for a drink, but she said all she wanted was a chair. So, we sat and talked for nearly half an hour. We talked about moving, about church, about work, about baking…she can’t bake anymore because it’s too much work for her shoulders and standing on her legs; I (somewhat proudly) told her stories of how I would bake for 50 hungry tree-planting men; she very humbly told me of how she was in charge of feeding 2600 men. How do you top that?
It was nice to meet someone new, nice to converse, nice to receive some old-fashioned hospitality and warmth.