The Story Continues...
By Belinda
We waited in the emergency department at Langley Memorial Hospital until it was Mum's turn to be treated.
The nurse attending her exclaimed at the dressing on her arm. "Who did this?" she wanted to know, "This isn't just any dressing."
"It was a vet!" we took delight in telling her.
"Well," she said, laughing, "You should be careful, they shoot horses you know."
As usual wherever I went with Mum, a party was happening, even in the middle of a stressful situation.
I hurt with her as I saw the nasty gash in her arm, thinking that the fragile skin would be hard to stitch together. I wished that it was my arm into which the doctor put the long needle loaded with anesthetic. Thirteen stitches later it was over, and we were on our way to enjoy the wonderful wedding with dear friends that was the real reason for our trip to British Columbia.
We had certainly not been quiet, unobtrusive guests so far, to Cors and Ank, Ingrid's friends. Getting to know them over the next few days of our visit to BC turned out to be delightful.
Ank was the epitome of hospitality and both of them were lively and vibrant human beings. They had emigrated from Holland in their forties, a brave thing to do, and bit by bit we shared the stories of how we had arrived where we were in our lives just then.
All around us was such breathtaking natural beauty. My bedroom window overlooked a ravine and I gazed down in wonder at the moss covered trees leaning tipsily in morning mist and leaf filtered sunlight.
On Sunday morning we joined our hosts at what felt like the Mount Lehman United Church "branch of the family." We were amazed but not surprised at the instant bond we felt among these BC believers. Their 82 year old preacher had a very quick mind and sense of humour and had copies of his book, "The Making of a Preacher," for sale.
In the afternoon, we sat in easy chairs in the de Lint's outside living room, and had coffee beside the pool while gazing at the majestic peaks called Golden Ears.
We returned to our little cabin then, both of us promptly falling asleep. It had been a non stop up and down adventure since Mum had arrived in Toronto from England just five days earlier.
We expected to prepare something later on for ourselves for supper and I planned to drive into town and do some shopping for food, but Ank would not hear of it when she dropped in and invited us over to their house for supper.
The meal was delicious: green beans ("tuinbonen" ) and peppers; buttered new potatoes; tossed salad with pine nut dessing, and spring salmon baked in foil on the barbecue--with white wine! To complete the feast we had a raspberry, chocolate and nut sponge cake; light and delicate!
Again we talked and talked, this time about faith, until I noticed at 9.00 that Mum was beginning to nod off. We said our goodnight's and retired again to our comfortable cabin, breathing prayers of gratitude and blessings on our hosts who were so gracious, hospitable, and full of humility and kindness.
We waited in the emergency department at Langley Memorial Hospital until it was Mum's turn to be treated.
The nurse attending her exclaimed at the dressing on her arm. "Who did this?" she wanted to know, "This isn't just any dressing."
"It was a vet!" we took delight in telling her.
"Well," she said, laughing, "You should be careful, they shoot horses you know."
As usual wherever I went with Mum, a party was happening, even in the middle of a stressful situation.
I hurt with her as I saw the nasty gash in her arm, thinking that the fragile skin would be hard to stitch together. I wished that it was my arm into which the doctor put the long needle loaded with anesthetic. Thirteen stitches later it was over, and we were on our way to enjoy the wonderful wedding with dear friends that was the real reason for our trip to British Columbia.
We had certainly not been quiet, unobtrusive guests so far, to Cors and Ank, Ingrid's friends. Getting to know them over the next few days of our visit to BC turned out to be delightful.
Ank was the epitome of hospitality and both of them were lively and vibrant human beings. They had emigrated from Holland in their forties, a brave thing to do, and bit by bit we shared the stories of how we had arrived where we were in our lives just then.
All around us was such breathtaking natural beauty. My bedroom window overlooked a ravine and I gazed down in wonder at the moss covered trees leaning tipsily in morning mist and leaf filtered sunlight.
On Sunday morning we joined our hosts at what felt like the Mount Lehman United Church "branch of the family." We were amazed but not surprised at the instant bond we felt among these BC believers. Their 82 year old preacher had a very quick mind and sense of humour and had copies of his book, "The Making of a Preacher," for sale.
In the afternoon, we sat in easy chairs in the de Lint's outside living room, and had coffee beside the pool while gazing at the majestic peaks called Golden Ears.
We returned to our little cabin then, both of us promptly falling asleep. It had been a non stop up and down adventure since Mum had arrived in Toronto from England just five days earlier.
We expected to prepare something later on for ourselves for supper and I planned to drive into town and do some shopping for food, but Ank would not hear of it when she dropped in and invited us over to their house for supper.
The meal was delicious: green beans ("tuinbonen" ) and peppers; buttered new potatoes; tossed salad with pine nut dessing, and spring salmon baked in foil on the barbecue--with white wine! To complete the feast we had a raspberry, chocolate and nut sponge cake; light and delicate!
Again we talked and talked, this time about faith, until I noticed at 9.00 that Mum was beginning to nod off. We said our goodnight's and retired again to our comfortable cabin, breathing prayers of gratitude and blessings on our hosts who were so gracious, hospitable, and full of humility and kindness.
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