Dear Editor, I have just finished reading part one of this wonderful story...can't wait for part two! Reading this story took me down my rabbit hole of memories, to an amusing episode from my mother's childhood, related to me in 1996, that may interest your readers. The year was 1929 and my mother was ten years old. It was July 1st. and my mother and her sisters were duly dispatched for the summer months to Calumet Island, Quebec where her grandparents lived. My great-grandparents owned the one and only general store on the island, complete with a red, shiny, much-admired out-house standing beside the store. The general store was a treasure trove for one and all and touched everyone's life in those days, including a group of five giggly sisters, ranging in ages from eight to twelve years.  There was everything from soup to nuts for sale to include 100 lb. bags of flour, sugar, big glass jars of candy and such, custom-cut meats, dairy and seasonal produce to thread and stove pipes. My great-grandfather also had a side-line – silk and satin-lined coffins for sale which he kept in the back room. As today, children enjoy playing future roles such as mommy, nurse, teacher, etc. There were also others, like my mother and her sisters, who liked to play 'funeral'. In the past, the dead were more commonly displayed in one's household, therefore fears of seeing a dead person were rather scant. My mother and her sisters would take turns playing the deceased – another as the preacher and the rest as the grieving family complete with forced tears and impromptu requiems. This continued throughout the summer months of 1929 until one day when my great-grandfather Cahill entered the back room unexpectedly. Real tears trailed the sisters as they were admonished and forbidden to ever enter the back room again. Diane Ruby Unger Cooks Creek, MB