When the wind blows the curtains in my kitchen window, my mind goes back to my youth... to those hot summer days, sitting at our table, with the breeze blowing Mom's lace curtains. Such a lovely smell came with that breeze, a fresh outdoor smell. I can see Mom sitting there at that table on a Sunday afternoon, reading the papers we brought home from Sunday school. She enjoyed those stories, also the ones in the War Cry. It would be quiet at our house on a Sunday. Us kids didn't usually play rough games on a Sunday. This was the way it was in most of the houses in our community. We might just go for a walk out the road. Sunday was a quiet day, a day of rest. I remember trips out in Dad's boat, out to one of the islands, for a cook up on the rocks. The meal would often be fish and brewis or steak and brewis, made with moose meat. Sure tasted good. Sometimes other families would join us. The kids would all run free like little mountain goats, climbing the rocks. Heading home in the evening, I would smell Mom's cooking. Her baked beans and fresh baked bread was one of my favourites. Mom was a great hand at cooking turrs. My sister Rose and me would dry the wish bone on top of the stove, then we would hold an end each and snap it. The one who had the biggest piece would hang it above the door... the saying was the first guy to talk in was the one we would marry. A silly game, I know, but it was fun. Winter days were fun too... we spent a lot of time outdoors, sledding or just playing in the snow; Mom must have had a tough time drying all those mitts and boots. There were nights of skating on the harbour ice. Us kids would get super excited when Dad would chip the salt water ice to make ice cream in the freezer. I wonder did Mom get her share of that ice cream? One thing I am sure of, we got our share first. Our Mom worked hard to take care of us kids. Lots of the time she did it alone, while Dad was away in the woods, working hard to make a dollar. Those times were hard, but looking back, they seem to be a more wholesome way of life. I love to look back through my memories, and I salute you, Mom and Dad, for a job well done. Norma Noel Bridgeport, NL