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The Rural Voice, 2003-12, Page 10WEST WAWANOSH MUTUAL INSURANCE COMPANY 1879 (0 2003 INeighdour helping 91(eighdour" 529-7921 (*I Aff of us 1 associated with West Wawanosh Mutual.share ( with you the joy of Christmas and extend our wishes for a safe, successful and hapy �� ( New Year. YOUR LOCAL AGENTS/BROKERS Frank Foran, Lucknow Donald Simpson, Ripley Omni Insurance, Clinton Omni Insurance, Goderich Omni Insurance, Auburn Lyons & Mulhern Insurance, Goderich McTaggart Wettlaufer Insurance, Mitchell Miller Insurance, Kincardine P.A. Roy Insurance, Clinton P.A. 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On our spare bed, where it won't be worn by everyday use, there is a hand -appliqued quilt, a gift from my mother years ago before age and infirmity slowed her down. The red roses that adorn the top are the product of the artistic skill she discovered in the latter part of her life after the heavy work of stretching meagre farm income through a family of three kids finally abated. I look at those roses and I remember her when she was younger and more vital, not in her final days when age had robbed her of her joy for life. I look at the tiny, intricate stitches that quilt the top to the padding and I think of the hands of her many friends and neighbours who sat around the frame piecing that quilt together. Many of those hands are stilled now too. When I think about it, I can't think of a better gift my mother could have given us even if she had unlimited resources to shop the most exclusive shops in North America. Once upon a time handmade gifts were the norm for Christmas, particu- larly on the farm. People were short on money then, but long on time and love. But things got better financially, even for those who would probably describe themselves as not having much. Somehow the homemade gift paled beside the shiny store-bought gift, particularly if it was advertised in a catalogue, on the radio or on TV and had that special stamp of fashion on it. Soon homemade seemed second best and people would scrimp and save to be able to buy gifts rather than seem too poor or, worse, too cheap to buy something manufac- tured. No doubt a generation or two of kids, brainwashed by the expectations of friends and the approval of the media drove nails in the coffin of the homemade gift. ulston can't bug Nowadays for most of us it's time we lack, not money. Listen to most people speak about gift buying and you'd think it was an unpleasant chore, not an experience of expressing love for family and friends. Somehow I can't think that the mother who used to knit scarves for love ones or the father who hand- crafted a sleigh, saw gift -giving as such a burden even if they actually put more of themselves into it than modern shoppers. Back then, of course, people needed so much and had so few options. Today trying to find a gift that's actually useful can be a major task. People generally are so well off that if they want something, they probably already have it. And of course we feel the pressure to find the "perfect" gift. We're big on perfect these days. We must have the perfect Christmas tree, the perfect decorations outside. We even have an image of perfect Christmases handed down through years of TV specials. I'm sure that quilt is not perfect. I'm sure if I brought in an expert in quilting she could find imperfections and in dcing so might diminish my appreciation of this gift. But if that expert had an unlimited budget to go out and find the most finely crafted quilt in existence, it couldn't hold a candle to the one that's in our guest room. You can't buy love in Wal-Mart or the Sears catalogue or anywhere else. In the long run it seems to me that it's the love that goes into a gift that matters, not the number of dollars. My mother's house until the day she died was cluttered with little porcelain ornaments of no particular financial value. We were bewildered that she kept them but I think I know why she did. I bought some of those unfashion- able, even tacky, trinkets, taking my tiny shopping budget to try to find something my mother would love. Through grown-up eyes, I smile and shake my head at my gifts. Mother, though saw the love not the ornament. Big dollars couldn't have gone any further. Sometimes I think we're poorer for being richer.0