Finally, the Right by Eden Monroe

 

I love to feature strong women in my stories, as I have in Tomorrow at Daybreak.  Although the women in this novel are guided by the social mores of that time (1879), the 1800’s did indeed see a “groundswell of change” by way of organized movements regarding women’s rights.  

❧ Really? No pants? ❧

 

            Strong women have made great strides in achieving many rights and freedoms, such as workplace equality to name but one crucial step forward, but some of those rights are so basic it’s a wonder they were denied in the first place. Some of us may even take for granted freedoms that were unavailable to us not so long ago in terms of world history. On that list, and a mere drop in the bucket when more important accomplishments are considered, was the freedom for women to wear pants in terms of everyday acceptance. As unbelievable as that may sound, it wasn’t until as recently as the 1960’s and 1970’s that that hurdle was cleared, and pants quickly became mainstream fashion.

Now this one I remember. I recall very well when the message came from head office (1970’s) that female employees were being given permission to wear dress pants in the ofice. I was still a teenager and so over the moon with that announcement I went home at lunch hour and found pants that would be considered suitable, although I was pushing the envelope a bit with pale blue brushed denim. There were strict guidelines to this pants-wearing experiment though. The top paired with the pants had to be long enough to fall well below the butt. In other words, a dress over the dress pants. Hilarious! Anyway, I wore a navy-blue mini dress over my pants and away I went back to the office. I remember being so excited because up until then only dresses, or skirts with blouses/sweaters were acceptable.

When one of the older salesmen came into the office after lunch that day and saw me in my new regulation getup, he was so taken aback we thought he was going to pass out. He actually put his hand to his chest and was making sounds like he couldn’t breathe because he was so outraged I would dare come into a public place dressed like that!

 

❧ It’s hard to believe the police were involved ❧

 

Interestingly, the women forbidden to wear pants thing was carried out more strenuously in some parts of the world (funfactfriyay.com):

“… for over 200 years, it was illegal to wear pants in Paris. An antiquated law enacted on November 17, 1800 had forbade women from putting trousers on and then showing said style to the world. While these were a cool form of political protest for men, women had to request police permission to wear trousers. And even then, there needed to be some sort of medical or professional reason…”

Strict female dress codes are still rigidly enforced in various locations globally, and the no pants rule was driven for the most part by religious ideoloy, as are many things.

Historically there have been countless restrictions on women, not just in terms of clothing, and Worldhistory.org offers some fascinating insights into the matter. Interestingly though, during at least one period in history men and women found themselves on equal footing:

“The lives of women in the Middle Ages were determined by the Church and the aristocracy. The medieval church provided the 'big picture' of the meaning of life and one's place while the aristocracy ensured that everyone stayed in their respective places through the feudal system that divided society into three classes: clergy, nobility, and serfs.

“Women's place in the clergy was restricted to the nunnery. Noble women's positions were dictated by how much land they brought to marriage because land equaled power; therefore the quality of life and opportunities for autonomy could vary significantly among the upper class. Women of the lowest class actually had more freedom of expression than the other two because life was uniformly difficult for the serfs – male or female – and women worked alongside men in the fields and in the medieval guilds as equals or near-equals.”

The biggest single breakthrough in terms of women’s rights is without question winning the right to vote. It was an enormous accomplishment in its fullest context, the refusal of it prior to 1920 far more restrictive than it might seem at the outset. Says Historyofrights.ca:

“The process of state formation included the unequal treatment of the nation’s female citizens, which was pervasive and entrenched in law. Women were denied the right to vote and were unable to become legislators, coroners, magistrates, or judges; they were also unable to sit on juries. They lost more than their last name when they married: they lost all status in civil law and could not own property or keep their own wages. In 1905 a Supreme Court judge in New Brunswick, reflecting on the role of women in society, explained that “the paramount destiny and mission of women are to fulfil the noble and benign offices of wife and mother. This is the law of the Creator.” Yet women were denied custodial rights over children. Also, criminal law was rife with double-standards. In the case of divorce, for instance, men had only to prove adultery whereas women had to prove adultery as well as desertion without reason, extreme cruelty, incest, or bigamy. Marital rape was unknown, not because it never happened but because it was not against the law. Discriminatory laws touched on almost every aspect of women’s lives: birth (infanticide), childhood (maintenance, child custody), work (labour laws, professions), courtship (seduction, marriage), sexual relations (rape, prostitution), marriage (property, citizenship, naming), parenting (maternity leave, abortion, adoption, legitimacy), divorce or separation (maintenance, child custody, pensions, desertion), and death (inheritance).”

We have certainly made significant progress considering that it was only in 1929 that Canada declared women as persons! (“The British Privy Council declared that women are ‘persons’ and could therefore be appointed to the Senate of Canada”). But the march forward continues. Here are some other notable dates in Canadian history with regard to milestones realized for women’s rights:  that all (including indigenous) women were given the right to vote in 1960. “Until the Canada Elections Act was enacted in 1960, First Nations women could not vote unless they had lost or given up their treaty rights or Indian status”); Women’s rights were enshrined in the Charter of Rights and Freedoms in 1981, Canadian Human Rights Commission recommends a pay equity system in 2001; First gender-balanced Cabinet in Canadian history was announced in 2015 and in 2022, the endorsement of the National Action Plan to end gender-based violence, which was of course “a significant step towards gender equality”. (Canada.ca)

Women continue to make great strides through hard-fought battles for change, but equity issues still exist today. In some parts of the world women experience crushing discrimination because of profound, systemic gender bias. Much work remains, but importantly, we should value what has been accomplished and recognize what was sacrificed to do so.

❧ Oh no she didn’t? What! ❧

 

                     Looking back, I had occasion as a freelance reporter to interview women working in non-traditional roles, and the stories of some of those women were deeply touching. Like the woman who dreamed of becoming an engineer but as a post-secondary student, found university acceptance greatly restricted in terms of gender at that time. So she became a nurse instead. She lived long enough to become an engineer in the second half of her life, however her role in that capacity was still considered non-traditional in the mid 1990’s in New Brunswick.

                     One young woman I spoke with while conducting interviews for that newspaper special section was very critical of this “Women in Non-traditional Roles” series despite the fact she’d agreed to participate. I’m guessing it was only to set the record straight. She wasted no time informing me that being a woman had not stopped her in any way from realizing her career goals.

                     “I suppose all of those older women are telling you how hard it was for them in the old days,” she said, “but they did not pave the road for me!”

                    

  “No,” I suggested, “in most cases they built the road.”

                     She disagreed of course, although in story after story there were honest accounts of the very real roadblocks women faced on so many levels. But they’d persevered, broken down those barriers and without question made it easier for those who came after them.

                     Lasting change is brought about by those with the strength of character to take action, and persevere. To not acknowledge their courage and celebrate the significance of their accomplishments, is an injustice. Like that young woman who refused to acknowledge the very real educational barriers that once existed and were overcome so that countless others could gain from that success, or me as a young woman who didn’t grasp how incredibly valuable was my right to vote.

                     Here are some interesting and empowering quotes to finish with, compliments of compassroseinternational.org:

“I do not wish women to have power over men, but over themselves.” – Mary Wollstonecraft

“The question isn’t who’s going to let me; it’s who’s going to stop me.” – Ayn Rand

“Women belong in all places where decisions are being made.” – Ruth Bader Ginsburg

“Feminism isn’t about making women strong. Women are already strong. It’s about changing the way the world perceives that strength.” – G. D. Anderson

“The most common way people give up their power is by thinking they don’t have any.” – Alice Walker.

 

 

https://www.facebook.com/AuthorEdenMonroe/

https://edenmonroeauthor.com

https://books2read.com/Tomorrow-at-Daybreak

 

Capricorn Birthdays--Alexander Hamilton

 

Master Passion/Alexander Hamilton/Schuyler A Master Passion

Kobo

Amazon

Smashwords

Barnes & Noble

Here we are again in January, which is a month crowded with family birthdays as well as the birthdays of two of my great heroes. As to the family birthdays, I have two cousins, an uncle, my mother, and two granddaughters who were born in this month--Capricorns, everyone. They prize stability, are detail-oriented and hard workers. 

As to my heroes, the gentleman above, Hamilton, was born under Capricorn. He was therefore--according to the astrologers--the perfect man to have been America's first Secretary of the Treasury. Trained in the laws of commerce, he was the first balancer of our new nation's books, which, after the War of Independence were a sea of red ink. This initial knotty problem was solved through his knowledge of the way the young global economy functioned, as well as and a lot of unpleasant negotiating with the less well-fiscally-educated members of the legislature. In fact, some of what have proved to be America's original sins--those that endlessly plague us today, are the result of the political horse-trading--the compromises--that were necessary to stabilize a totally broke infant republic. 

Hamilton was also one of the three Founding Fathers who authored The Federalist Papers. From that framework, the one created by those three thoughtful lawyers, (Hamilton, Madison, and Jay) our American Constitution was born. Hamilton, who loved

an elaborate sentence, doubtless was the most verbose, though James Madison, the bachelor with whom his young family shared a back garden at the time, was a deeper philosopher and a pithier wordsmith. 

I follow on with a series of quotes from this statesman, "the ten dollar bill guy." There is plenty to chew on here, the words of a man who lived and died according to an elevated personal code of honor. I wish there were more in public service today who were as far-sighted, as self-sacrificing, and as honest. Unlike so many legislators today, Hamilton did not feather his nest while he held power. Within three years of his death, his wife had to sell their fine country home and take her seven children into New York City to live in a rented apartment.

 "There are seasons in every country when noise and impudence pass current for worth; and in popular commotions especially, the clamors of interested and factious men are often mistaken for patriotism."

"In framing a government which is to be administered by men over men, the great difficulty lies in this: you must first enable the government to control the governed; and in the next place, oblige it to control itself."

“The inquiry constantly is what will please, not what will benefit the people. In such a government there can be nothing but temporary expedient, fickleness, and folly.” 

"History will teach us that...those men who have overturned the liberties of republics, the greatest number have begun their career by paying an obsequious court to the people; commencing demagogues, and ending tyrants."

“For in politics, as in religion, it is equally absurd to aim at making proselytes by fire and sword. Heresies in either can rarely be cured by persecution.”

“If the federal government should overpass the just bounds of its authority and make a tyrannical use of its powers, the people, whose creature it is, must appeal to the standard they have formed, and take such measures to redress the injury done to the Constitution as the exigency may suggest and prudence justify.”

“Divide et impera must be the motto of every nation that either hates or fears us.”

“Constitutions should consist only of general provisions; the reason is that they must necessarily be permanent, and that they cannot calculate for the possible change of things.” 

"Now mark my words. So long as we are a young and virtuous people, this instrument (the Constitution) will bind us together in mutual interests, mutual welfare and mutual happiness, but when we become old and corrupt, it will bind us no longer."

~ Juliet Waldron

 

      

     

Valentine's Day --A dash of spice; A splash of humor, or? By Connie Vines #Romantic fiction, #Valentine's Day, #The Big Easy #Perfume

Valentine's Day

I love Valentine's Day!   😍💘💕💋🍫🍷

A dash of spice? A splash of humor? Or..a full-on die-hard romantic?

I confess, I'm on team "a splash of humor"!

Of course, a romantic dinner, soft bluesy music, and a walk along the beach certainly check all the boxes.

While many may consider breakfast in bed a dream-come-true, I would upend the tray and be sitting in a puddle of coffee. ☕

"Fondue night" might be a bit cheesy, but I think it's an original idea for an at-home Valentine's Day. Start with dipping your favorite veggies, breads, and proteins into melted cheese for a savory dinner, then switch it up with chocolate for dessert — marshmallows, fruit, cookies, and graham crackers.

One of my faves:

"Love is sharing your popcorn!" Stay at home and watch a favorite romantic movie or catch a new release.

💞It's the thought and effort behind your actions that truly count.💖

What is your idea of a "perfect" Valentine's Day?

🐊

Here's a teaser from my anthology, "Gumbo Ya Ya". (4 stories in one book!)

LOVE POTION # 9

The determined barking of his pedigreed champion Catahoula Leopard dogs sent Cooper T. Landrieu darting for the back door. There was another party at the plantation house, not that he cared. He spent a large part of his time in Lafayette or traveling,g so his opportunity to go fishing was limited to a few times each year. But, damn, of all the weekends for the Dubois' to throw one of those parties complete with band and pyrotechnics, that had to pick this one!

Expecting his cousin, he yanked open the door. Just when he opened his mouth to shout at the hounds, he almost fell against the screen door.

Cousin Beau wasn't anywhere to be found.

Instead, he spotted a woman standing on his doorstep.

He knew the woman.

"Persia?"

Even when she remained silent, Cooper T. knew it was she. There was no sane reason for finding Persia Antoinette Richmand Laudrieu, his soon-to-be-ex-wife, on his doorstep in the middle of the night; she was there nonetheless.

Yanking open the screen door, he grabbed her wrists. "What are you doing out here?" he asked, dragging her inside.

Her golden skin glowed in the light of the swaying porch-light, and her almond-shaped blue eyes stayed focused, unblinking on him.

"What happened to you?" he asked. She clung to the edges of some sort of slinky wrap that she'd draped around herself. The stench of stagnant swamp water dripping from its shredded remains. 

Persia brushed back her damp, slightly tangled tawny bangs from her forehead. "There was an unfortunate incident... with my car."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, darlin', but aren't you supposed to wait until after the divorce before you start to celebrate?"

He watched her perfectly arched eyebrows draw together in a slight frown. Why had he'd ever thought the habit endearing, he couldn't recall. He took a closer look at the woman. Maybe she wasn't his wife after all.

Naw.

She sounded like his wife: the liquid tones of her smoky voice were cultured, one-hundred-percent Creole, straight out of the Garden District of New Orleans Parish...

🐊

There is nothing better than a friend, unless it's a" good book" and a box of chocolates!

Happy Reading,

Connie

https://www.amazon.com/Gumbo-Ya-Connie-Vines-ebook/dp/

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/gumbo-ya-ya-connie-vines

Or at your favorite online vendor.

https://connievines-author.com/

Watch my book trailer: 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OumB8pFI6oc

(Love Potion #9, Marrying off Murphy, A Slice of Scandal, and 1-800-FORTUNE).

Remember: There is nothing better than a friend, unless it's a good book and a box of chocolates!

Connie

Why authors deserve all the Oscars- by Vijaya Schartz

Find it at BWL 
amazon - B&N - Smashwords (backlist) - Smashwords new titles - Kobo

As I watched the announcements of the 2026 Oscar nominees recently, I realized how many categories are now rewarded. Each year they add new categories. The latest one this year recognizes casting directors.

When writing a novel, the author has to be an expert in all the categories. Whether we write fiction or true events, we are responsible, not only for the overall story, the script (dialogue), but also for creating (casting) our characters (defining who they are, what makes them tick, and what they look like). We have to decide what they wear (especially for period pieces), the setting (movie set design), the special effects (I have many in my sci-fi books), action scenes, the actors’ direction, the secondary characters, the subplots, the narrative…

amazon - B&N - Smashwords (backlist) - Smashwords new titles - Kobo

Authors are not required to write music, of course, but we do create an atmosphere by describing the sounds, the smells, the touch, and the feelings, as well as the thoughts surrounding the novel.

amazon - B&N - Smashwords (backlist) - Smashwords new titles - Kobo

Maybe authors should also get awards for Historical Accuracy. Nowadays most period films are accurate, as movie makers and authors conduct intensive research before filming or writing. But I remember a time when Hollywood was taking big liberties with history, and was later criticized for it. I still cringe when I watch old films of ancient Egypt.

Research is a must, something green authors do not always understand. The wrong detail can spoil the entire novel and ruin the author’s credibility for the reader. Personally, I love doing research. Many unexpected plot ideas often come from researching settings and local lore, legends, and little-known history.

I’ve often been told that reading my books was like watching a movie. Thank you. I take it as a compliment. Please, go ahead and suggest my books to Hollywood!

amazon - B&N - Smashwords (backlist) - 
Smashwords new titles - Kobo

Actually, there is a good reason for that. As I write, I see the movie unfolding in my head on a big screen. I love movies. It’s not unusual for me to memorize the lines of my favorite films as I watch them over and over. It’s also why my books are fast reads. Like in movies, I believe in telling a story as succinctly as possible. Why write a paragraph when one word says it all?

I hope you enjoy my books. And if you do, please leave a review on the book page. Thank you in advance.

Happy Reading!

Vijaya Schartz, award-winning author

Kick-butt Heroines, Brave Heroes, cats, romance

amazon - B&N - Smashwords (backlist) - Smashwords new titles - Kobo - FB 

I Am Enjoying Growing Older by Joan Donaldson-Yarmey

 

https://books2read.com/The-Art-of-Growing-Older

https://www.amazon.ca/Art-Growing-Older-Attitude-Ability/dp/0228631904

When I was in my twenties and thirties and saw an obituary of someone who died when they were in their late sixties or in their seventies, I always thought what a good long life they had had. I am now 76 years old and I don’t think I am old enough to die yet. In fact, I've found that being a senior can be just as enjoyable as being a child, or a teenager, or an adult. Each has their own learning curves, their own ups and downs, and their own highlights. No one should fear growing older. It should be embraced because it is better than the alternative. As the saying goes: Growing older is a human right that is denied to many.

I have written a memoir about my life and how I learned that the oldest documented person to have lived, Jeanne Calment, was 122 years 164 days when she died. I thought if she could live that long, then so could I. The Art of Growing Older is my past journey and my future plans to live as long, or longer, than Jeanne. Maybe I can set a new record.

Here is the first chapter of my memoir.

                                          The Art of Growing Older

                                           It’s Not Age: It’s Attitude and Ability

            Dedication:

 To

Gwen, Roy, George, Avenel, Carson, Lois.

And To

Salliann, Ron, Eli, Yvonne, Iris, Michael, and Matthew who, sadly, never made it halfway to their life’s potential. To Ruth, and Syd who made it to their seventies.

I was eighteen and in my last year of high school when Canada’s Centennial celebrations were held in Montreal in 1967. I put down a deposit of $10.00 to book a place on a school-sponsored trip to those festivities. Then my boyfriend asked me to marry him and I said yes. I cancelled my trip and began my wedding plans. The marriage lasted eight years.

       Since then I have joked that I have to live to 120 years-of-age so I could go to Canada’s Bicentennial celebrations. I would be 118 in 2067 so I figured that by living to 120, I would have a couple of years to remember and talk about my experience.

       Then, in 2017, Canada celebrated its 150^th birthday and I turned 68 years-of-age. I was surprised that fifty years had already passed since I first made that statement. I realized that I was half way to Canada’s bicentennial.

       Although it started out as a joke I have learned that it is not an unrealistic quest, that I could conceivably live to 120 years-of-age. Every year thousands of people around the world are reaching their 100th birthdays and becoming centenarians; many are even becoming super centenarians by turning 110. Some are reaching 115 and 117 and 119 years of age. One woman has actually lived to 122 years, 164 days.

       If she could do it then why couldn’t others. Why couldn’t I? I could think of no reason why I couldn’t so I decided to give it a try, to work at living to 120 years of age or longer.

       Too bad, though, that for those first fifty years I didn’t look after my body, and therefore my health, as well as I should have. 

Part One

                                      My Life Before Cancer

            Chapter 1   My Childhood

I was born in New Westminster, B.C., Canada, part of the first wave of the Baby Boomer generation. When I was two-years-old my parents moved to a farm near Edmonton, Alberta, and a couple of years later into the city of Edmonton. Mine was a normal childhood for the time, which meant nutritious food and plenty of outdoor activity.

       The house we lived in was small but the back yard was large. There were rows of raspberries and strawberries dividing it into a lawn and a garden spot. Every summer, Mom put in a huge garden. We had fresh berries when they were ripe, vegetables when they were ready, and she canned dozens of jars for over the winter. She also canned pears and peaches, which she bought from the store. There were always oranges, apples, and milk for snacks in the refrigerator. Mom also made homemade white bread.

       Every morning we had hot oatmeal for breakfast. It wasn’t until I was in my teens that I was allowed to have cold packaged cereal on the weekends although my parents still ate their porridge. My siblings and I came home from school for lunch which was usually soup or salmon sandwiches or macaroni. For our suppers we ate the left over roast beef and trimmings from our Sunday meal, or canned beans and bread, scrambled eggs and toast, or pancakes and natural peanut butter. This was before the manufacturers added hydrogenated vegetable oil, salt, and sugar to the peanut butter to insure a longer shelf life, so there was always oil on the top when we opened the lid. My dad used a butter knife to blend the oil back into the mixture before we ate it.

       All our meals were homemade. We never went to restaurants and there weren’t packaged or prepared frozen meals on the market. We couldn’t afford any junk food or fast food that might have been available at the time. We never had chocolate bars or candy in the house except on Halloween. On that night I tried to stay out as long as possible to get as many goodies as I could. I ate everything else in my bag except the hard candy which usually lasted until Christmas because I didn’t really like it.

       The only down side by today’s standards was that we ate strictly white bread, first home made and then later store bought, and margarine.

       Even at an early age I loved food and was a big eater. I would eat the lunch my mother prepared, then hurry over to my girlfriend’s house and have lunch with her and her parents. Her mother made the best chicken noodle soup.

       During grades three, four, and five, each spring all the children in the school I attended were given a three-month supply of cod liver oil capsules to take. I still remember how terrible they tasted. I used to drop the capsule in my hot porridge and stir it around so that I didn’t know which mouthful I would be eating it.

       I had the usual childhood diseases, such as chicken pox, measles, and mumps and none of them were very serious. I never broke a bone nor had any serious accidents. I do remember going to visit the doctor for boils that I would get under my arms. One time he decided to lance one without giving me any painkiller or freezing it first. Even now I can feel the knife slicing through the skin and him squeezing the pus out. I was given a lotion to put on them and as I grew older they disappeared.

       I was a child before television and I basically lived outside with my friends. We played games, rode our bikes, skated in the winter, walked to school. At school we had recess, physical education, and track meets to train for. I had a very active childhood. I also got my first job at age ten.

       A woman in the neighbourhood made corsages and she hired some of us children sell them a week before Mother’s Day. She would give each of us a box containing about eight corsages of different colours and we would go to separate streets.

       At each house I climbed the front stairs and knocked on the door. When it was opened I showed the different corsages and explained who had made and how much they were worth. If a man answered, he usually bought one for his wife. If a woman answered, it was a much tougher sell. But I made enough money to buy my mother a bouquet of artificial flowers for Mother’s Day.

 Then we moved into a larger house in a new neighbourhood that was on the outskirts of the city. I started taking lunch to school. Bologna was cheap and for years that was what made up most of our lunch sandwiches. One day my brother told mom that he was getting tired of the same sandwich every day. But I stuck up for those sandwiches. I liked bologna. I don’t know if his sandwiches changed but mine stayed basically the same until I graduated. Occasionally for variety, Mom switched tomato or cheese for the bologna.

       When I turned twelve I started earning my own money through paper delivery and babysitting and that is when my food choices really changed. A few times a week I went to a nearby restaurant for chocolate sundaes or French fries with friends after school or we’d meet on weekends. We still didn’t have what today we term as junk food in the house so I had to buy my own. I bought chocolate bars and ate two at a time. If the people I was babysitting for left a large bag of chips out for me to snack on, I would eat the whole bag. I was suddenly getting plenty of sugar and fats in my diet.

       I also began bingeing at home, making myself bread and jam or bread and cheese sandwiches before supper. Not just one or two, but until I was full. And then I would eat supper an hour later.

       Because she now worked, Fridays were the only day that mom still made bread and that was because dad, who worked out of town during the week, was coming home for the weekend. I sometimes bought the family a chocolate cake and chocolate swirl ice cream for dessert with our Friday night suppers.

       My first real job was at a small, drive-in restaurant, which I had to walk about two kilometres to. The owner let the staff eat hamburgers, fries, milkshakes, and ice cream at a discount. My next job was in a Kentucky Fried Chicken, (KFC as it is known today), outlet which was closer to my home. There, staff could eat all the chicken we wanted. I indulged until eventually the novelty wore off.

 I was still very active. I had lots of friends at our new house and we had the freedom of biking into the countryside for exploration. Occasionally, I biked over to see my former friends and I was still walking to school.

       As I advanced into junior high school there were new and varied sports introduced to our physical education. I began playing basketball, volleyball, baseball, and badminton. I even learned a few dance steps. Since I was good at sports I belonged to the school’s volleyball and basketball teams. We practiced two days a week after school and travelled to other schools to play games and tournaments.

       In high school I also belonged to the school teams. And I still walked everywhere because it was unheard of for my parents to drive me to my friend’s house, or downtown, or to high school football games at other schools. Swimming and figure skating were two more activities I took in gym class.

One memory stands out very clearly from my teen years. It was to have an effect on the next four decades of my life.

       When I was in grade nine one of my teachers decided that as a gracious community gesture our class would hold a spring tea for the seniors who lived in a nearby lodge. And to bridge the generation gap each of the students would “adopt” one of the seniors as an honorary grandparent.

       “When your adopted grandparent arrives, he or she will be shown to their place at a table and it will be your responsibility to serve them tea and cake and to get to know them,” my teacher explained.

       On the day of the tea we decorated the gymnasium with balloons and streamers and waited. Because this was such a novel idea there was a television reporter and cameraman from the local television station to cover the event. Later that evening I watched myself and some of the other students on the news.

        Finally the seniors’ bus pulled up. The boys who had been assigned to help them off the bus rushed out. From just inside the gymnasium doorway I watched the sea of white heads as the old men and women slowly made their way down the hall. The women were dressed in their best outfits with their sparse hair done up and rouge on their wrinkled cheeks. The men wore ill-fitting suits or pants and shirts. Some walked on their own, some used walkers or canes, and some were helped. This was before most places were wheelchair accessible so no one who may have been in a wheelchair attended.

       I was one of the greeters and I stood at the door waiting to welcome them. As each approached I pinned a corsage on the women’s dresses and men’s shirts or suit coats. Most of them smiled or said thank you but a few looked lost as if they weren’t sure where they were or what they were doing here. Once they had their corsage they were escorted to their tables, which were set so that there would be two “grandparents” and two “grandchildren” at each one.

       When everyone was seated I went to the long table holding the pieces of cake and picked up two plates. I carried them to the table where my “grandmother” sat and introduced myself.

       “What do you take in your tea?” I asked.

        “Just a little sugar,” she said, her voice shaky.

       I went to the tea pots and poured her a cup. I didn’t drink tea so grabbed a glass of juice and returned to our table. I had a difficult time relating to my adopted grandmother. Conversation was hard. Three of my natural grandparents died before I knew them. I don’t ever remember doing anything one-on-one with the grandmother who was part of my life. She was always at family gatherings but as a child I don’t recall us ever spending a day or even an afternoon together.

       I looked around the room. While most of the seniors seemed happy with the tea, I felt pity for them. I didn’t like the idea that they needed to be adopted, like a stray cat or dog or someone no one else wanted. I felt sorry that they were old.

       As I walked home after school I thought about the afternoon. I knew that I never wanted to be in the position where I had to have strangers “adopt” me. I never wanted to be old.

       And that was when, at the age of fifteen, I decided that I would commit suicide when I reached sixty-five years of age. I would not go through those years of my life as a lonely, old woman waiting for someone to be nice to me.