The emotion of the moment gave me a warm glow inside even although I knew in my heart of hearts that this wasn’t how life was

Iexplained further: “Ronald needs the car. He has to be at the office at eight and I can’t push a pram along these sidewalks.” “We sure don’t use prams here at this time of year,” replied Jean, “sledges are much easier. I’ll lend you one of mine.” And so I set off with Richard, Michael, Ronnie and Mahri-Louise one September morning to take Richard to his first day at school.

The sun shone as it mostly always did in this part of the world. The sky was incurably blue. Everything – gardens, houses, streets – were clothed in snow which sparkled in the sunlight.

The houses along both sides of the wide avenue stood out in the clearest of air. There was no smoke or dampness to form any sort of haze.

I left Richard at the new modern school where a teacher took over. There were tears in my eyes at this first big separation from my first born.

I didn’t want him to notice, didn’t want to upset him and I don’t think he did notice, so eager was he to take on the new experience. Surprise “Come back at three o’clock,” I was told. I was there on the dot – apprehensively expecting Richard to be somewhat subdued and frantic to see me.

A surprise awaited me. He was very nonchalant about it all and said he had had a good day. He refused to walk home with me and his motley crew of brothers and a baby sister lying in a sledge.

He was a big boy now and walked several paces ahead pretending he wasn’t with us.

Now that my mother had our new address she had written saying how glad she was that we had got somewhere to live in Edmonton and that Ronald had got a job.

I hadn’t mentioned that it was on commission basis only. That would only have worried her.

“Perhaps it will be easier for you to get MahriLouise christened now,” she wrote.

“If you are looking for a godmother, Thelma, the daughter of our next door neighbours, the Greys, is living in Edmonton just now. Her husband has a job with the Hudson Bay Company.”

I didn’t know Thelma well. Her people hadn’t always been neighbours of mother’s and, by the time they came to live next door, I was nursing and only saw Thelma occasionally.

However, glad to have some contact with home, I got in touch.

Thelma would be delighted to be godmother, she said. I had just joined the Presbyterian church in Edmonton.

It was at Jean Nikyforuk’s suggestion. Because of her Presbyterian grandfather she was an active member. “We’ve sure got a nice young minister just now,” she said.

Like the school the church was only a block away. It was new but built in a traditional style with which I was familiar.

The services weren’t as familiar. They were higher church than back home, more like the Episcopal services.

The minister was helpful about the christening. I told him about Thelma.

“You don’t need to have a godmother nowadays,” he said. “The whole congregation takes the promises but it’s fine by me if you want one, just fine.” Warm glow The day of the christening arrived filled with sunshine.

I dressed Mahri-Louise in the long white voile gown the others had been christened in and wrapped her in a spider fine shawl my sister-in-law had knitted for me.

Mahri-Louise was a pretty pink and white baby with blond hair and big blue eyes.

She looked prettier than ever in her long christening gown.

The service went well. Mahri wasn’t one to cry at the wrong times. A contented child she didn’t cry much at all.

After the christening the minister held her high and walked round the church showing her off. Everyone stood up and promised they would help to look after her.

The emotion of the moment gave me a warm glow inside even although I knew in my heart of hearts that this wasn’t how life was.

People under certain circumstances make promises that they can’t keep. But no thought of that then. It was a happy day and we went back to our basement flat for a simple tea of cookies and cake.

In those days no way could we have called Edmonton a beautiful city.

It may have been the location that was wrong – a city grown from a lonely Hudson Bay fort set in a huge rolling landscape.

The Rockies were nowhere to be seen. To the north there was no other town of comparable size between it and the north pole.

The Saskatchewan River ran through Edmonton, a pale uninteresting river that left no impression on the mind other than a snake-like greyness.

Over it spanned the High Level Bridge, a clever piece of engineering, carrying both road and rail traffic and connecting the dissected city. Expensive This area got very congested at busy times. Jasper Avenue, the main street, was a fine one, broad and long with substantial shops on either side.

The government buildings downtown were also impressive but of no great age.

Occasionally, Ronald would look after the children while I went into the city centre to do some shopping but I soon discovered this was an expensive and timeconsuming exercise.

Several blocks from where we lived there was a new hypermarket – something that was unheard of in the part of Scotland I came from in these days.

We learned to shop within its vast new precincts as everyone else did in the area.

Edmonton had been a well planned city using the grid system and had what appeared to be unlimited space.

For the most part schools were new and well built and Edmonton boasted a university of which all citizens were justly proud.

Edmontonians were keen on the idea of culture. The feeling of space it gave you was what I liked most about the city.

Out in the suburbs especially no house was too near another. There were few fences. (More on Monday.)