A Message From the Other Side

The two women entered an already packed room. Our eclectic group were already milling about catching up on who was who and where. Food was being laid out as is the norm at these ‘pot luck’ gatherings. The two ladies took their coats off and hung them over the backs of chairs that had been set up around the fireplace and Christmas tree. Murmerings caught my attention. “Who were these ladies?” “Who invited them?” “Did they contribute to the ‘food’ being laid out by the owner’s wife?” Nobody seemed to know. One lady who was talking to me in animated tones about what was being served stopped in mid sentence to gaze at the two mysterious guests. She seemed agitated and disturbed that someone dared crash our private party (at an otherwise public pub). The disruption was not something I wanted to engage in – so before anything more could be said and most likely something she might regret later, I shrugged it off by saying that there would be plenty of food…not to worry. Not to be discouraged, the lady continued. “The nerve of the pub owner, inviting people to our gathering, expecting to be fed…blah blah blah.”
I sighed.
She was not going to give up on this line of conversation. Excusing myself, I moved on to join a friend I hadn’t seen in a few weeks. We hugged and chatted it up. She too asked who the two ladies were. I said I didn’t know. She commented on the ‘food thing’. Again I repeated that there would be plenty. She too was not going to give up that easily. Okay, now I thought this line of conversation was starting to get tiresome.


Just as the whispers had almost reached a crescendo, the two ladies went over to some chairs, picked up their guitars (which apparently nobody had noticed sitting there), and started to sing in harmony. They looked alike. Both had short dark hair and pale creamy white complexions. They were dressed alike but not the same. They had pretty sparkly jewelry that matched their black and silver tops. It was obvious…they were sisters. The Christmas carols were sweet and music filled the room. The music also drowned out the whispers that were threatening to get out of control. It seems these ladies were hired for the evening…to entertain us…while we ate and drank some cheer. Hmmm… the looks that crossed some faces were priceless.

Somehow through all the jockeying for seats at the banquet tables, I got slightly separated from the group. I sat at an empty place at the end of the table. Beside me, one of the ladies took her seat during a music break. She and her sister exchanged conversation and commented on how delicious the food was. I smiled inwardly. I was ecstatic that they were enjoying themselves…as much as I was enjoying them. I didn’t feel guilty eavesdropping as there was a lot of clatter and chatter around the tables. At one point a name was dropped. The lady beside me looked up. She asked me how I knew this person. I replied and explained the connection. She asked me what my name was. When I told her, the look of recognition that came over her face was like a light bulb being turned on. She knew my mother. She knew me, but had never met me. In turn, I knew her. I had heard my mother speak of her so lovingly over the years. I couldn’t believe that I was only meeting her now, finally putting a face to her name. The rest of the meal was spent exchanging stories, laughing, sometimes tearing up, and I felt like I had received an early Christmas gift.

A man sitting next to me stopped his conversation and turned to watch this exchange. When Doris and her sister Marie got up to resume their singing, he said he couldn’t help but notice the way we had interacted. He was dying of curiosity. I explained who she was and what she had meant to my Mom. The same people who were starting to feel like their elite group had been ‘crashed’, got really quiet. They smiled and commented on the PEI community…how you never know who you are going to meet…or where.

I thought it an appropriate lesson for them. It would be a lesson my Mother would have taught us early. She always made room at her table…and never, ever, refused food or sustenance to anyone. My Mother was in the room that night. Through me, she guarded her ‘little Doris’ in the only way she could….I felt blessed that I had heard her…and acted accordingly.

I gave Doris a big hug when I left that night. I told her it was a gift to have finally met her and that my only regret was that I couldn’t tell my Mom about our encounter. We both giggled at that…as without a doubt…Mom already knew!