Three Daughters of Wisdom Sisters re-build a rotted corduroy bridge with logs picked up from nearby fallen trees. “No pulleys or even horses are available to help; just strong muscles and necessity,” writes Sister Margaret Suntjens, D.W. The “engineers” are Sisters Alma, Margaret and Anita.
I was born in 1925. My mother told me that our big hip-roofed barn was built in 1928—and that our new house would be next. The last GOOD year was just that! There was no next good year, so we never got the new house. The old house was the piece that was there in 1910. Then addition, plus additions.
Yes, I well remember the dirty 1930s. There were many dark clouds. Mother at times said, “This time they look like rain clouds. But NO, only dust again. The neighbour's oatfield got blown onto our home grassfield, a permanent home that holds the soil down and greedily drinks up the snow water. So we had a double crop that year. My father gave back to Matt, our horse, his oats that harrowed our field for the season. Most people moved out—broke—but my father used his head and got into permanent grass, so we were able to stick it out through the 1930s.
(Retired Sister Margaret Suntjens, D.W., served in the Archdiocese of Grouard-McLennan, Alberta.)