1890’s

13 Nov Margaret Carpenter’s story of Margaret

My mother Margaret Stuart Cook was born  August 10th 1895 to Margaret Black Cassels Cook and Archibald Hay Cook of Quebec City and married Charles William Wiggs on March 29th 1924 in Quebec City.  They had 3 children Rosalind Stuart, Owen Ross and Margaret Gillian. Described by her brother-in-law in the Wiggs Family Record "as a quiet, demure and gracious person who had the happy faculty of always being pleasant  to everyone she met and was a devoted wife and mother."
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11 Oct Pat Morrice’s story of Elsie

The year was 1898 in the town of Great Falls Montana U.S.A.  A baby girl was born to Hugh and Julia Jackson.  This wee baby weighing 3lbs 10 oz was baptized Elsie Harlow, a sister to Pearl. After bringing Elsie home from hospital her devoted parents kept her warm and cozy in their little kitchen beside the coal and wood stove. She began to gain a little weight and would one day reach the height of 5 feet and weigh 98 pounds. Elsie and Pearls parents were Salvation Army officers. When Elsie and Pearl were three and five years old they were ready to join their parents on the carriers of their bicycles to ride from village to village to feed the hungry and save a few souls; “Remember the little drum and the tambourine called Dad” .We had fun riding on the bikes and playing the drums and the tambourine at each stop we made”. After three years of biking from town to town the family moved to Vancouver B.C.
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22 Aug Herb Norry’s story of Mildred

My mother died on a bright sunny Easter Sunday morning when I was six years old... It was April 5th, 1931. My brother Bob was four and my sister Kathleen was eight. That was the worst day of my life until my daughter Maryann died when she was 42 years old. She was taken to the hospital on April 5th and died six days later leaving a 12 year old daughter, Kylie, and a nine year old son Matthew. That was worse. Mother and Maryann were two of a kind.
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15 Dec Joy Coghill’s story of Dorothy

People who knew and loved my mother in later life remember her as a compassionate, no-nonsense kind of woman who cooked marvelous dinners. Only I, as her only child, was privileged to know that beneath this gentle exterior, she was an adventure-loving pioneer with a tiger inside her.
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10 Oct Mary Monk’s story of Lily Rose ⓜ

When I was a teenager, alone with my boyfriend in the drawing room, we would suddenly hear Mother singing the Christian hymn “Rock of Ages” in her glorious contralto voice—a warning that we had to behave ourselves before she entered the room.
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14 Jul Micki Maunsell’s story of Amy

Her name was Amy Reeve. My brother Richard called her “Mummy” or “Mum,” but to me she was always “Belinda”, after a cartoon character named Belinda Blue-Eyes. She was born around 1899 in Tasmania, and was the youngest of four daughters and one son. At least, this is what I thought until a recent internet search revealed that she was actually born nine years earlier, on February 3, 1890, and was the fifth of six daughters and one son. Perhaps only four of the girls survived, and that is why I was never aware of the other two. I recall Belinda telling me that her father, a surgeon named Charles Frederick Reeve, was a Baron from England, who met and married my grandmother in Australia.

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