The Days of Old

Winkler may call itself a city and yes, it has progressed in many ways, going from 4 way stops to having some lights controlling traffic, gaining some big names stores and a number of franchise restaurants that years ago we would have only had access to in Wininpeg, but in a few aspects, it's still a small town. 
One of them I witnessed this morning when Wes took me out for breakfast to the Co-op Cafe.  We snagged a table by the window, not an easy thing to do on a Saturday morning when many of the Crocus and Lion's Manor tenants are there, but today was our lucky day I suppose.  I greeted a number of the seniors as we walked between the tables to get to our table.  Walkers, wheelchairs and canes are in fair abundance but that is par for the course in Co-op and to be quite honest I enjoy this avenue of seeing and visiting with many of the seniors in our community.  After we had placed our order we looked around the room and quietly made connections with those we recognized, "Oh, there's so and so's dad, hey there's so and so's grandma, I haven't seen her for a long time!"  It's like a walk down memory lane, of course Wes and I realized that our memories are becoming a bit foggy as we laughingly tried to remember the name of the son of Peter whom we saw walking by the restaurant and it was about 15 minutes later when I said "Pete!" And we both burst out laughing because though we had remembered the father's name, the son's name had escaped us until we realized that the son's name was the same as the father's.  That was nearly a 'who's on first' conversation!

There was a table full of senior women sitting across from us and I noticed a jar of plum jam sitting on the table in front of one of the women.  I thought that perhaps it was a 'gift' for one of the women, however, when their plates of toast arrived they popped open that homemade jar of jam and with immense joy and conversation they shared that jam between the seven of them at the table.  I loved that no one told them they couldn't use that jam in the restaurant, I loved watching the smiles on their faces as they generously scooped spoonfuls onto their toast, I loved their conversation about the plums that were so perfect this year for making jam, I loved hearing their laughter as they passed the jar around the table...sometimes we are so concerned about being the 'big' city, about looking like big city people that we forget that it's the small town stuff, the plain down to earth hardworking seniors who with their strong faith in God and with their canes and grey hair these are the ones that have been a part of our heritage, a heritage that has made us who we are and really makes us feel like a family!

Remember the days of old; consider the generations long past.  Ask your father and he will tell you,
your elders, and they will explain to you.  Deuteronomy 32:7