Jennifer Street

The Red Cross had driven us through wartime London so that 8 year old Jennifer could/would remember. Embarking from Liverpool, I (Jennifer) went down with seasickness as we passed Ireland. The Christmas lights of Canada, the train journey to Ottawa, and the luxury of food choices in the shops were enthralling.

Joyce is in her 100th year, remembering that past better than last week. A boarding pass for us both and a picture of the Louis Pasteur are on her wall at the nursing home.