The Icelandic Canadian - 01.03.1994, Blaðsíða 41

SPRING, 1994 THE ICELANDIC CANADIAN 151
It is interesting to find, as I get
older, that some of the things I do
somehow bring back memories of
women I have known. The fragrant
aroma and delicate taste of pincherry
jelly simmering on my stove at our
cottage at Caddy Lake always brings
back memories of my mother’s eldest
sister, my Auntie Helga Christianson,
who lived in Beaconia, Manitoba.
Another simple gesture is pouring
water from a kettle. When I was very
small, I spent two happy weeks with
Stefania and Paul Magnusson in their
little house on Dufferin Avenue in
Selkirk. I would watch in amazement
as Stefania lifted her kettle from her
wood-burning kitchen stove. She
would hold it high in the air so the
long thin stream of boiling water
would bring the cocoa in my cup
bubbling to the top.
Stefania was a sort of foster
mother to my mother. I never under-
stood their relationship but I have
pictures to show that Mamma lived
with Stefania and Paul when she was
a teenager, ft was obvious to me that
there was a very strong bond between
the two women.
Many times on a Sunday after-
noon, we’d all pile into the car for the
drive from our home in North
Kildonan to travel north along
Henderson Highway and over the
bridge crossing the Red River at
Lockport. From the River Road we
would continue north on what was
then called Parkdale Highway
towards Selkirk.
Dufferin Avenue was a dirt road.
On a rainy day, it was frightening to
me as the car would slither from side
to side. The sidewalks were wooden
except for a strip of cement sidewalk
near Stefania’s house where we could
play “hop-scotch.”
Stefania always greeted us with
open arms. What astonished me most
of all was watching her load her
round oak table with food as she
spoke in Icelandic with my father and
mother. When I hear the term “table
spread,” I think of Stefania.
Stefania and Paul Magnusson