Our Canada - - Birds & Blooms -

of Dol­lard­des-ormeaux, Que., per­fectly cap­tured the sleek lines of this 1964 Cadil­lac Coupe de Ville. “I took this pic at a clas­sic car show held ev­ery Au­gust in nearby Bea­cons­field, Que.,” says Maryse.

MAR­JORIE CRIPPS Born in Saskatchewan, Mar­jorie has spent most of her adult life in On­tario with fam­ily nearby, in­clud­ing her grand­chil­dren. Af­ter re­tir­ing as a school li­brar­ian, Mar­jorie turned to writ­ing and quilt­ing as pas­times. Her two grand­chil­dren in­spired her to write chil­dren’s sto­ries—al­though those grand­chil­dren are now teenagers! Mar­jorie is grate­ful for the sup­port of her lo­cal writ­ing circle. She says she wanted to share this story in cel­e­bra­tion of Canada’s 150th birth­day and hopes Cana­di­ans of all ages will en­joy it.

over the rush­ing Fraser River. He touched the square again and the quilt dropped to skim the sur­face of the wa­ter. A sal­mon jumped onto the quilt and then flopped back into the wa­ter.

Amanda touched a pur­ple moun­tain square and they found them­selves fly­ing over the Rocky Moun­tains. “Moun­tain sheep sure can climb,” laughed Amanda, “I can’t be­lieve they don’t fall off!”

The chil­dren kept touch­ing squares of dif­fer­ent pic­tures and be­ing whisked off to new lo­cales: A di­nosaur square led to soar­ing over the bar­ren Bad­lands of Al­berta, while a wheat sheaf had the magic quilt cir­cling over the bright yel­low fields of canola and golden wheat in the Prairies. When Mitchell touched the pic­ture of a po­lar bear the quilt sped north to the icy wa­ters of Hud­son Bay, where the tree­less tun­dra stretched as far as the eye could see. “Look at all the po­lar bears!” shouted Amanda. “They look so cud­dly!”

Touch­ing a pic­ture of a tent and camp­fire took them to Al­go­nquin Park; a wa­ter­fall led to Ni­a­gara Falls; and the Par­lia­ment Build­ings brought them to Ot­tawa, where the quilt dropped low enough for them to salute a Moun­tie.

The jour­ney con­tin­ued with squares fea­tur­ing a loaf of bread, a bas­ket of blue­ber­ries and an ap­ple, lead­ing to vis­its to Que­bec City, where Mitchell grabbed a fresh baguette from a busy mar­ket, the Saint John River Val­ley, where they nose-dived into a blueberry patch and grabbed a hand­ful of berries and the ap­ple or­chards in the An­napo­lis Val­ley, where Mitchell snagged a cou­ple of crunchy ap­ples from the trees they skimmed over.

Squares fea­tur­ing a pic­ture of rocks brought them to the Bay of Fundy; a lob­ster to the seashore in Nova Sco­tia; a lit­tle red-haired girl to the Anne of Green Gables house in Prince Ed­ward Is­land; and a light­house to the Cape Bre­ton Trail.

Af­ter a square fea­tur­ing a puf­fin had the quilt soar­ing over an ice­berg in the At­lantic Ocean, Mitchell and Amanda de­cided they were hun­gry and ready to go home.

Search­ing the quilt, they spot­ted a square with a house on it. Tap­ping it, the words “home sweet home” ap­peared and in a flash, the quilt pro­pelled them to their very own back­yard. A pitcher of lemon­ade was wait­ing on the pic­nic ta­ble and Gram came out car­ry­ing a cake. “What’s this on the quilt? A blueberry stain? An ap­ple core? Are these bread­crumbs? And is that a lob­ster cling­ing to the edge? Where have you two been?” Gram asked with a grin. Mitchell and Amanda smiled at each other, but all they would say was, “Gram, it’s been a real ad­ven­ture!”

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