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ten Nobody Asked Me to Buy a Ticket I had just got back from an interminable community meeting, in a great rush to have dinner ready the minute Jim got home. I knew he had to get away for an early meeting with the church Board. There was a knock on the door, and there stood two smiling children from my junior church choir. “Mrs. Norquay, the Anglican Ladies’ Association are raffling a bride doll and we thought you’d like a chance to win it. So we came to see you right away. The draw will be made at their bake sale, on the Saturday after Remembrance Day. The tickets are three dollars each, or two for five.” I took a deep breath—what to do? How could I disappoint these children who faithfully turned up to choir practice every Thursday? How could I explain that it was against our family policy, and the policy of the United Church, to participate in raffles? I’d been brought up to believe that gambling was a mortal sin, but I’d long ago decided that there were other sins more worthy of eternal damnation, like hurting your neighbour or stealing your friend’s wife. However, I was bound by the official policy of the United Church. These two children were regular members of my choir, but they were never allowed to sing with us on Sunday because they had to go to their own church. They’d been embarrassed when their mother wouldn’t let them sell tickets for the choir’s annual concert, held to raise money for choir gowns. It was as if they were trying to make it up to me by offering a chance at the doll. So I pulled five dollars out of our donation cookie jar and rushed back to make dinner. A month later, on November 11, a Remembrance Day service was held in the town hall for the whole community. The Anglican priest had conducted the service the previous year. This time it was my husband ’s turn. In addition to the usual comments about how Canadian soldiers had given their lives for their country, Jim felt moved to express his disappointment that the room above the pool hall was 44 being used regularly for gambling—for poker games. He said that he was particularly saddened to know that the games had been organized by the town merchants, most of whom were veterans of the First World War. They were setting a bad example and had already caused hardship to some young families whose fathers, veterans of the Second World War, were having trouble paying gambling debts. The older veterans should be setting an example. Was this the country they had fought for? The Saturday of the draw, we couldn’t go to the Anglican Ladies’ bake sale because we were expected at our closest neighbouring church, the United Church in Sangudo, a few miles down the highway . When we got home about 5:30, I realized we were out of bread and dashed to the bakery, hoping it would still be open. When I entered, Mrs. Climie greeted me with a broad smile. “Mrs. Norquay, congratulations! I hear you’ve won the bride doll!” My heart sank. Downtown Saturday in Mayerthorpe, news travels at the speed of light. I rushed out, almost running down the street toward the manse, only to meet two of the Anglican ladies coming from the other direction. One said, “We just dropped the doll off at your house, Mrs. Norquay. We hope you enjoy it.” Not a chance, I thought. When I got in, Jim was sitting in his easy chair, staring at the doll ensconced on the living-room couch. There she was—an Eaton’s Beauty Doll, about two feet tall, wearing a long whitesatin embroidered dress and veil, obviously made with great care by one of the Anglican ladies, probably Mrs. Jenkins. The bouquet of fabric roses and forget-me-nots would have to have been ordered specially from the Eaton’s catalogue. Jim said, “Where on earth did this come from? I didn’t know you still liked to play with dolls.” “I can’t imagine what to do with it,” I replied. “I just didn’t know how to turn down those two Anglican kids from the choir when they came to sell me tickets. It never occurred to me I’d win it, never thought to tell you, and forgot all...

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