By Dorothy McLeod – Saskatoon, Sask.
It was a few weeks before Christmas when I was walking through the mall that I glanced in the dress shop window and I was stopped in my tracks.
There, draped on the mannequin was a beautiful, loosely knit scarf in striped burgundy, white, and black. The only time I had seen one like it was in 1943.
My father always drove the soldiers to the nearby bus station when they were reporting back to camp after leave, so it was only natural he would be accompanying my special friend (years later he became my husband), my mother, and me to the bus depot.
While we were waiting, my friend disappeared for a few moments. It was a small town with only a few shops along Main Street.
When my friend returned, he handed me a package containing a beautiful wool scarf in exactly the same shades as the one I saw on the dress shop mannequin this year.
Seeing the scarf brought back precious memories of that day so long ago. I promptly went into the shop and purchased the scarf.
You can bet I snuggled (and yes, I reminisced a bit) with that beautiful soft scarf around me every time I went out all winter.
My husband passed away just before Christmas after 64 years of wedded bliss. What a lot of precious memories I had!