 |
| A Trip to Find the Perfect Christmas Tree in 1960. |
WHY IS ADA FLORENCE KINTON'S STORY WORTH REPEATING? IS IT A CHRISTMAS STORY? OR JUST THE TALE OF ANOTHER UNSUNG HERO? SO WHAT?
IS IT A MUSKOKA STORY? OR IS IT JUST ABOUT THE WORK OF THE SALVATION ARMY?
I CLEARLY REMEMBER A COMMENT I RECEIVED FROM A READER, AFTER I HAD PUBLISHED PORTIONS OF THE FOLLOWING JOURNAL, BACK IN THE WINTER OF 2011. IN ESSENCE, WHAT THE READER INFORMED ME, WAS THAT ADA FLORENCE KINTON MUST HAVE BEEN A SUCKER, TO HAVE BEEN FOOLED BY ALL THE POOR AND DESTITUTE SHE TENDED, IN HER DAYS WORKING AT TORONTO MISSIONS. THE CHAP INFORMED ME THAT THOSE RECEIVING SOCIAL ASSISTANCE IN THIS COUNTRY, WERE BLEEDING THE TAXPAYERS DRY. THEY SHOULD BE CUT OFF, IF THEY CAN WORK.....WHETHER THEY CAN FIND WORK OR NOT. BURDENS ON THE REST OF US. THAT'S HOW HE FELT ABOUT RECIPIENTS OF WELFARE.
I LISTENED AND I LEARNED. EVERY NOW AND AGAIN, I DO RUN INTO CITIZENS WHO HAVE NO TOLERATION OR PATIENCE FOR THOSE IN FINANCIAL DISTRESS.....FOR WHATEVER REASON. THERE NOT CONCERNED ABOUT THE WELL BEING OF HUMANITY. THEY ARE PONTIFICATING ABOUT SOMETHING THEY THINK THEY KNOW....BUT DON'T REALLY. I WILL ENGAGE THEM FOR AWHILE, UNTIL IT STARTS MAKING ME NAUSEOUS. I ASK THEM IF THEY HAVE CONSIDERED POLITICAL OFFICE, AND WHEN THEY REMARK THAT POLITICS ARE AS CORRUPT AS THE POOR RECEIVING BENEFITS, I SUGGEST THAT BEING ARMCHAIR CRITICS IS THE PERFECT PLACE TO BE THEN......AND AT THIS TIME OF YEAR, I MIGHT ALSO ASK IF THEY'RE EXCITED ABOUT MEETING THE THREE SPIRITS OF CHRISTMAS, THAT CAME TO CHALLENGE EBENEEZER SCROOGE, IN THE CHARLES DICKENS CLASSIC, "A CHRISTMAS CAROL." I LOVE THE SOUND OF DEAD AIR, AFTER THIS, AND PRETTY SOON, THERE IS A CLICK ON THE OTHER END. I WON'T HANG UP ON THEM, BUT WHEN QUESTIONS GET UNCOMFORTABLE, THEY REMOVE THEMSELVES QUICKLY.
ADA FLORENCE KINTON WAS WELL EDUCATED, AN ARTIST WHO COULD HAVE SOLD HER WORK FOR A HANDSOME PROFIT, AND WAS ALREADY A HIGHLY REGARDED ART INSTRUCTOR, WORKING IN BRITISH PRIVATE SCHOOLS. SHE HAD A GENUINE INTEREST IN SOCIAL WELFARE; SHE HAD SEEN THE DARKEST SIDE OF POVERTY IN ENGLAND, AND ITS BRUTAL CHARACTERISTICS IMPOSED ON WOMEN AND CHILDREN BY ABUSIVE MALES. SHE WATCHED ABUSE OF ALCOHOL DESTROYING FAMILIES AND VICTIMIZING THE INNOCENT. SHE WASN'T A "SUCKER," FOR A SAD STORY. HER IMMERSION IN THE MIDST OF HORRIFIC LIVING CONDITIONS, IN WHICH THE POOR WERE FORCED TO RESIDE, MADE HER A REALIST.
THERE WILL BE READERS WHO FEEL THAT POVERTY COULDN'T HAVE BEEN AS BAD, AS WHAT THEY READ, IN THE ACCOUNTS OF ADA KINTON. THIS IS THEIR CHOICE. AS FAR AS DELUDED THINKING, OR MAKING THINGS SEEM WORSE THAN THEY WERE, TO JUSTIFY THE NEED FOR THESE SOUP KITCHENS AND MISSIONS, NINETY PERCENT OF WHAT ADA KINTON WROTE, WAS DONE AS A PERSONAL JOURNAL. SHE NEVER EXPECTED HER WORK TO BE PUBLISHED. BUT WHEN THE FOOD BANKS FIRST OPENED IN MUSKOKA, I REMEMBER CRITICS THEN, SUGGESTING THAT IT WAS OPENING THE GATES FOR ABUSERS TO TAKE ADVANTAGE OF GENEROSITY. WHEN BREAKFAST CLUBS OPENED AT AREA SCHOOLS, THERE WERE THOSE WHO COMPLAINED OF THE SAME THING; THAT IT WOULD BE ABUSED BY THOSE WHO HAD ENJOYED BIG BREAKFASTS BEFORE ARRIVING AT SCHOOL. IN STARK OPPOSITION, VOLUNTEERS WHO RUN THESE PROGRAMS TODAY, HAVE NO DELUSION ABOUT THE URGENT NEEDS OF OUR AT-RISK CITIZENS, TO FEED THEMSELVES AND THEIR FAMILIES. CRITICS DON'T OFTEN VOLUNTEER TO HELP RUN THESE COMMUNITY INITIATIVES, PREFERRING TO SIT BACK IN THOSE COMFORTABLE ARMCHAIRS INSTEAD.
WHEN ADA FLORENCE KINTON, ARRIVED BACK IN HUNTSVILLE, WHERE HER BROTHERS, ED AND MACKIE, RESIDED WITH THEIR YOUNG FAMILIES, HER HEALTH WAS SERIOUSLY IMPAIRED. IT WAS LATE IN THE 1890'S, THAT THE CULMINATION OF HER MISSIONARY WORK WITH THE SALVATION ARMY, IN MANY ADVERSE CLIMATES AND CONDITIONS, HAD DETERIORATED HER ABILITY TO HEAL THE MULTIPLE AILMENTS SHE SUFFERED. ADA KINTON WOULD NEVER HAVE AGREED THIS WAS THE CASE, BELIEVING INSTEAD, HER MORTAL FORM HAD SIMPLY WORN-OUT ITS USEFULNESS. AND TO HER FINAL DAY OF LIFE, SHE NEVER LOST FAITH IN GOD, TO LEAD HER IN THE RIGHT DIRECTION. IF IT WAS TOWARD DEATH, THEN IT WAS GOD'S WILL. SHE WAS MOST DEFINITELY IN PAIN, FOR THOSE FINAL YEARS, BUT NEVER WEAK OF FAITH, OR A PASSION FOR LIFE. SHE WOULD SIT ON THE VERANDAH OF HER BROTHER ED'S HUNTSVILLE HOME, LOOKING OUT OVER THE VILLAGE, WHICH SHE ALWAYS FOUND SO ENCHANTED; THE PICTURESQUE HAMLET SHE HAD FIRST SEEN, BEFORE CHRISTMAS, IN THE EARLY 1880'S. WITH SWOLEN HANDS AND COMPROMISED JOINTS, SHE WOULD TRY TO SKETCH ON BITS OF PAPER, AS SHE HAD IN THOSE FIRST HOMESICK DAYS, HAVING JUST ARRIVED IN MUSKOKA, FROM AN HORRIFIC STEAMSHIP PASSAGE FROM ENGLAND.
ADA FLORENCE KINTON IS AN IMPORTANT STUDY, FOR SOMEONE WHO CLAIMS TO BE A SOCIAL / CULTURAL HISTORIAN. SHE GAVE US MANY FIRSTS, IN OUR PIONEER REGION OF ONTARIO, VIA HER WELL-COMPOSED JOURNALS, KEPT FROM THE START OF HER FIRST OVERSEAS ADVENTURE TO CANADA. IT WAS SHORTLY AFTER HER FATHER HAD PASSED AWAY, (HER MOTHER HAD DIED SOMETIME EARLIER), AND THE ESTATE WAS BEING SETTLED AMONGST FAMILY MEMBERS. SHE WAS INVITED TO STAY WITH HER BROTHER ED, IN THE TINY PIONEER ENCAMPMENT IN NORTH MUSKOKA. THE JOURNAL WAS A WAY FOR HER TO INVEST SOME OF HER RAW EMOTIONS AT THIS TIME, INCLUDING THE FEELING SHE BELONGED BACK IN ENGLAND.....NOT IN THIS SNOWY WILDERNESS. THIS WOULD CHANGE OVER TIME, AFTER A THOROUGH EXPLORATION OF THE WOODLANDS AROUND THE VILLAGE, THAT SHE INVESTIGATED ALMOST DAILY, WITH HER SKETCHING MATERIALS HELD TIGHTLY UNDER HER ARM.
SHE WAS THE FIRST VISITOR TO OUR REGION, WHO PROVIDED A DESCRIPTION OF A PIONEER CHRISTMAS, AND THE DECORATIONS OF THE SEASON, SET OUT BY SOME OF THE RESIDENTS. SHE WAS THE FIRST TO DETAIL, HOWEVER BRIEFLY, THE FUNERAL PROCESSION OF A LOCAL CITIZEN, AND SHE WAS THE FIRST, TO DOCUMENT HER OUTINGS, SKETCHING THE LANDSCAPE; OFFERING US DETAILS ABOUT THE WOODLANDS, AS THEY APPEARED THEN, IN THE WINTER AND SPRING. IT WAS ADA KINTON WHO FIRST RAISED CONCERN ABOUT THE FUTURE DESTRUCTION OF THE BEAUTIFUL FORESTS, DUE TO CLEAR-CUT LOGGING; AND SHE CLOSELY EXAMIINED THE NATURAL LOWLANDS AND BOGS, WHERE THE WILDFLOWERS GREW IN GREAT ABUNDANCE. SHE OFFERED PERSONAL, EDUCATED OBSERVATIONS, OF WHAT WAS GOING ON IN THE FLEDGLING COMMUNITY, AND DOCUMENTED HER TRAVELS IN AND AROUND THE REGION, ON FOOT AND BY SLEIGH. SHE OFFERED HOUSEHOLD OBSERVATIONS THAT GAVE HISTORIANS AN OPPORTUNITY TO UNDERSTAND THE "ACTUALITY" OF THE VICTORIAN TIME PERIOD, IN MODEST BUT COMFORTABLE ACCOMMODATION. EVEN DETAILS ABOUT THE WEATHER AND ITS SEASONAL ATTRIBUTES, INCLUDING SNOW, AND THE EARLY MELT, WERE CAREFULLY DOCUMENTED. THIS MATERIAL IS IMPORTANT. ESPECIALLY UNDERSTANDING THE KEY QUESTION MOST HISTORIANS HAVE, WHEN LOOKING AT THE PIONEER PERIOD. "HOW DID THEY DEAL WITH THE CULTURE SHOCK, AND PHYSICAL DEMANDS, OF LEAVING THE BUSTLING CITIES OF EUROPE, FOR A NEW AND HARD LIFE IN THE CANADIAN BUSH?" ADA KINTON DOES ADDRESS THIS SOMEWHAT, AND HOW SHE ADJUSTED TO RESIDING IN MUSKOKA TEMPORARILY, AND THEN FEELING COMPELLED TO RETURN HERE, AS A PLACE OF INSPIRATION, DURING THE LAST YEARS OF HER LIFE.
AT CHRISTMAS, SUZANNE AND I LIKE STOP AT THE PICTURESQUE CEMETERY, IN HUNTSVILLE, WHERE SHE IS BURIED. THERE IS A REMARKABLE STORY ABOUT HER WINTER SEASON CHARITY, HELPING THE DESTITUTE AND STARVING CITIZENS, OF VICTORIAN TORONTO; AFTER SHE BECAME ASSOCIATED, SOME YEARS AFTER HER ARRIVAL IN CANADA, WITH THE SALVATION ARMY. ONE STORY THAT HAS HAUNTED ME FOR MANY YEARS, SINCE BEING INTRODUCED TO HER JOURNAL, "JUST ONE BLUE BONNET," AND HER EDITORIAL CONTRIBUTIONS TO "THE WAR CRY," IS ABOUT SAVING A YOUNG NEWSPAPER BOY'S LIFE, OUTSIDE AN URBAN SOUP KITCHEN. BACK IN THAT ERA OF HISTORY, "NEWSIES" AS THEY WERE CALLED, WERE PAID MISERABLY FOR THEIR WORK, DELIVERING THE DAILY PAPERS; AND MOST WERE STREET URCHINS WHO LIVED WHEREVER THEY COULD FIND A DRY ALCOVE. IN THIS PARTICULAR CASE, ADA CAME UPON A SCENE, WHERE A TINY NEWSIE HAD COLLAPSED OF HUNGER AND THE COLD, AND EVERYONE WHO PASSED, EITHER TOOK A DETOUR AROUND, OR STEPPED-OVER THE BOY, WHO INITIALLY APPEARED DECEASED. SHE WAS ABLE TO PULL HIM UP FROM THE SIDEWALK, AND CARRIED HIM INTO THE WARM ROOM OF THE SOUP KITCHEN, WHERE HE WAS GIVEN HOT TEA AND BLANKETS. THIS BOY WAS SAVED, BUT MANY OTHERS WERE NOT SO FORTUNATE, AS TO HAVE HAD THIS ANGEL OF THE MEAN STREETS, LOOKING OUT FOR THEM. IT WAS ALSO THE PITIFUL DESCRIPTION OF THOSE WHO CAME LATE TO THE SOUP KITCHEN, WHO WERE TURNED AWAY BECAUSE PROVISIONS HAD BEEN EXHAUSTED. THE REMAKABLE ASPECT, IS THAT EVEN BEING TURNED AWAY HUNGRY, AND WITHOUT EVEN A CUP OF COFFEE, THESE UNFORTUNATE PATRONS NEVER RAISED THEIR ANGER AT BEING LEFT OUT. AT LEAST ADA KINTON NEVER WROTE ABOUT THIS IN HER STORIES. MANY OF THESE POOR SOULS, WERE SATISFIED INSTEAD, WITH THE KINDNESS OF THOSE MISSIONARIES ON THE STREET, WHO AT THE VERY LEAST, GAVE THEM SPIRITUAL ENCOURAGEMENT TO CARRY-ON. AND THE ADVICE TO GET TO THE SOUP KITCHEN, EARLIER THE NEXT DAY.
ADA KINTON HAD DONE THE SAME WORK, OUT OF HER OWN SENSE OF BENEVOLENCE, AS A YOUNG WOMAN IN ENGLAND.....HAVING PAID ATTENTION TO THE PLIGHT OF THE HOMELESS, AND THE SUFFERING OF MANKIND AMIDST PLENTY. ON ONE OCCASION, SHE WATCHED AS A BARE-FOOTED STREET URCHIN RACED PAST HER, WHILE WALKING HOME, ONE DAY IN LONDON. SHE WAS ABLE TO FOLLOW THE LITTLE BOY TO HIS HOVEL, IN A CITY SLUM, BY THE TRAIL OF BLOOD LEFT ON THE SNOW. THE LITTLE CHAP HAD INJURED HIS FOOT, ON BROKEN GLASS ON THE COBBLED LANE, AND TO HER, THE BLOOD ON THE STARK WHITE OF THE NEWLY FALLEN SNOW, WAS A TRAGIC REMINDER OF HOW MUCH "NEED" WAS REQUIRED, TO END THE SPIRALLING MISERY OF POVERTY. LITTLE DID SHE KNOW THEN, HER LIFE WOULD BE CONSUMED BY HELPING OTHERS. WHAT SHE IMAGINED THEN, OF BECOMING A PROFESSIONAL ARTIST, AND INSTRUCTOR, WAS A MINOR PART OF THE REST OF HER LIFE.
THERE IS NOTHING ELABORATE ABOUT HER GRAVE SITE. ONE MIGHT EXPECT THAT FOR HER ACCOMPLISHMENTS, AND HUMANITY TO THE MASSES, SHE MIGHT HAVE BEEN AFFORDED A STONE OF LARGER DIMENSION; A TIRELESS MISSIONARY, POSSIBLY DESERVING A STATUE, DEPICTING AN ANGEL STANDING ABOVE THE HALLOWED GROUND, WHERE ADA KINTON WAS BURIED. IN ITS MODESTY, HOWEVER, IN THE PANORAMA OF THE COMMUNITY CEMETERY, IT EXISTS, AS SHE DID IN LIFE.....STALWART AGAINST THE ELEMENTS, UNDETERRED BY ADVERSITY, AND MODESTLY APPOINTED; AS SHE SHYLY REFUSED RECOGNITION FOR DOING WHAT GOOD SOULS ARE SUPPOSED TO, IN THE CONTEXT OF CIVILITY AND DECENCY TO FELLOW HUMAN BEINGS. SHE MIGHT HAVE EVEN FELT A SIMPLE GRAVE MARKER WAS EXTRAVAGANT AND OVER-STATED. A SIMPLE CROSS MAY HAVE BEEN MORE TO HER LIKING...., FRONTED BENEATH HER ETCHED NAME, IN THE FERTILE SOIL, MAYBE ONE OF THE FLOWERING PLANTS SHE LIKED TO SKETCH EACH SPRING.
AS I'VE NOTED PREVIOUSLY, THE STORY OF ADA FLORENCE KINTON, IS ONE OF MY FAVORITE HISTORY CONNECTIONS, AT THIS TIME OF THE YEAR, AND I NEVER GET TIRED OF PRESENTING HER STORY TO MY CONTEMPORARY AUDIENCE. HER BASIC ACTS OF KINDNESS AND GOOD FAITH, IMPACTED THOUSANDS OF THOSE SHE ASSISTED, OFF THE COLD, LONELY STREETS, OF OUR TOWNS AND CITIES IN THIS PROVINCE. PART OF THIS INSPIRATION, CAME FROM HER YEARS SPENT IN HUNTSVILLE AND THE DISTRICT OF MUSKOKA. I DON'T WANT MUSKOKANS TO FORGET THE WEE LASS, WHO GAVE HER LIFE, TO IMPROVE THE LIVES OF OTHERS. I HAVE OFTEN THOUGHT, CHARLES DICKENS HIMSELF, MIGHT HAVE BEEN INSPIRED BY THE LIFE AND WORK OF ADA FLORENCE KINTON, MAKING HER A MODEL, FOR ONE OF HIS REMARKABLE, SOULFUL, MORAL CHARACTERS. I THINK OF HER EACH TIME I READ "A CHRISTMAS CAROL," WHICH IS A TRADITION HERE AT BIRCH HOLLOW. TELL ME, WHAT WOULD WE DO WITHOUT THESE BENEVOLENT CITIZENS, WHO ARE THERE TO PICK US UP WHEN WE FALL; WHO INTERVENE TO HELP WHEN WE NEED IT MOST; WHO ASK NOTHING IN RETURN FOR THE FAVORS THEY BESTOW?
THIS THEN, IS THE GLADLY SHARED CHRISTMAS SPIRIT, OFFERED BENEVOLENTLY TO MANKIND, ALL YEAR ROUND.
IN MEMORY OF ADA FLORENCE KINTON, IN REGARDS TO THE STORIES YOU ARE ABOUT TO READ, PLEASE CONSIDER MAKING A DONATION, TO A FOOD BANK, OR SALVATION ARMY, IN YOUR COMMUNITY. THERE ARE FAR TOO MANY OF OUR NEIGHBORS, IN THIS REGION, IN FINANCIAL DISTRESS, WHO HAVE NO CHOICE BUT TO ATTEND THE LOCAL SALVATION ARMY, (GRAVENHURST) OR MANNA (BRACEBRIDGE) FOOD BANKS, IN ORDER TO SURVIVE. THERE ARE OTHERS WHO REFUSE TO REGISTER FOR THIS ASSISTANCE, WHO ARE GOING THROUGH EVERY DAY OF THEIR LIVES, SUFFERING SILENTLY, WITHOUT ADEQUATE FOOD PROVISIONS. MANY ARE CHILDREN. SOMETIMES WE FORGET, THAT JUST BECAUSE WE DON'T SEE WHAT DISTRESS EXISTS OUT THERE, (THAT ADA KINTON WAS FAMILIAR WITH), THAT IT DOESN'T EXIST. I EXPECT WE'D BE VERY SHOCKED INDEED, TO KNOW THE TRUE EXTENT OF THESE UNFORTUNATE CIRCUMSTANCES, IN THE HOMETOWNS WE BELIEVE WE KNOW INSIDE AND OUT.....BUT NOT REALLY. THAT'S WHY IT'S SO IMPORTANT TO SUPPORT THE CHARITABLE ASSOCIATIONS, AND THE FOOD BANKS, THAT DO APPRECIATE HOW WIDESPREAD AND FAR REACHING, POVERTY EXTENDS THROUGH OUR PICTURESQUE EVIRONS. IT'S AT CHRISTMAS, THAT THESE NEEDS ARE SO PROFOUNDLY FELT. WHAT A WONDERFUL FEELING IT IS, TO BESTOW KINDNESS ON A GOOD NEIGHBOR, IN THE SPIRIT OF THE SEASON.
February 16, 2011
ADA FLORENCE KINTON BORN IN BATTERSEA ENGLAND
BUT ADORED MUSKOKA-
By Ted Currie
This has not been a typical Muskoka winter. At this moment there is a wonderful stream of sunlight coming through my office window, currently being enjoyed by two old cats, sitting on the sill, purring in that gentle, calming harmony. It feels good on my arthritic knuckles, and I apologize for taking this hiatus from typing, to let the warm rays sooth these gnarled hands. While we expect snowfall every other day, here in the lakeland, this year, as last winter, has prevailed with a milder version of Canadian winter. While others across the continent have had brutal weather, ours has been quite kind. So far, of course. Knock wood, things can change.
There has been a wonderful amount of sunshine across our region, and despite some very cold days and wood-snapping temperatures overnight, for anyone who suffers the ill-effects of light deprivation, these past few months have been more cheerfully bright than usual. Today it’s sparkling out over the birch hollow, the diamond light of ice and sun, creates a stark contrast of light and shadow. I think this would be the kind of morning artist Ada Florence Kinton would find compelling and inspirational. She very much enjoyed sunny winter days likes this, wandering along the well trodden paths through the woodlands, to sketch and make notes about the surroundings.
This was in the 1880's, while staying with her family in Huntsville, a picturesque community in North Muskoka.
"Her first experience of picking primroses was a delight to be recorded and unforgotten; and not seldom did it happen that flowers would awaken in her mind ‘thoughts too deep for tears’," This passage was written by Ada’s friend, Agnes Maule Machar, a well known Canadian writer, and was published in the biography, "Just One Blue Bonnet." The book is a compilation of Miss Kinton’s letters and journal entries, released in 1907, two years following her death in Huntsville. The book had been prepared by her sister Sara Randleson, as a lasting memorial to a life well spent.
"Her vivid imagination and playful fancy often prompted her to read into their (flowers) passive life, human feelings and emotions, resulting in graceful little parables which she wrote with as delicate a touch as that which characterizes her drawings, wrote Machar, who frequently corresponded with the artist. "This habit of mind would come out frequently in talk as, for instance, when on a country visit in June, she referred lovingly to a ‘conscientious little lilac,’ which had unfolded its first snowy bloom at an age when such an effort could hardly have been expected of it. That shrub is still distinguished by the epithet which she then bestowed. Of all the many exquisite blossoms which Florence loved and idealized through her large gift of sympathetic imagination, the nearest to her heart were the Passion flower and the pansy - the Passion-flower reminded her of a suffering Saviour, from whom she always drew her deepest inspiration; the pansy for the heart’s ease, which she found only in following him,"wrote Agnes Machar.
"Ada Florence Kinton was born in Battersea, England on April 1st, 1859, to parents John Louis Kinton and Sarah Curtis Mackie. She would become the third of four surviving children born to the Kintons. John Kinton was an instructor of English literature, at the Westminster Wesleyan Training College. He once said of himself that, ‘Gladly would he learn, and gladly teach’." Florence’s mother died when the youngster was only ten years of age. "How great the sorrow and loss was to this sensitive girl needs not be told. Hence forward I was all the mother she had," wrote her sister Sara Randleson. "The days of childhood and youth sped away all too fast. Study at home, visits to relatives in the lovely Thames Valley, scenery of Maidenhead or on the chalk cliffs of Kent, girlish friendships, and letters from Canada, whither her two brothers emigrated, gave these years their character."
Mrs. Randleson noted that, "In the summer vacation of 1880, we two sisters crossed the Atlantic to visit our brothers in the charming backwoods village of Huntsville. The romance and excitement of this expedition into the new world can not be told. Florence was too taken up with absorbing new impressions to make any record of it, except by a number of pretty pencil sketches of pioneer life."
According to her sister however, another profound event in her young life was about to occur. "The blow of her father’s death, (December 1882) was almost paralyzing. Florence’s health and life, even seemed to hang in the balance, and only the sustaining power of religion helped us endure the severe bereavement. Miss Leonard, an American lady, had lately been holding meetings for the promotion of holiness, which brought great comfort to our hearts. Our eldest brother, Edward, receiving the news by cable, came swiftly to us by sleigh and steamer, the tears freezing on his cheeks in the bitter winter cold. We decided that the home should be broken-up, and he shortly took Florence back with him to Muskoka. This change, while a solemn one, was to afford her a new beginning."
At 24 years of age, Miss Kinton wrote a card to her sister, while having a wretched cross-Atlantic voyage aboard the S.S. Sarmatian. "February 6, 1883. "You will be sorry to hear that we have had a very rough voyage. It is said to have been the stormiest that the Sarmatian has ever had. As soon as we got away from Liverpool, the fun commenced. We had eight lady passengers, and we were all sick in our berths before Thursday dinner-time. The captain told someone that we ‘were just in the nick of time to catch the whole storm.’ Then for about a week we had a real merry time. A storm at sea is certainly a fine sight, particularly to anyone who may be reclining in their cabin. On Sunday there were only three gentle men to dinner. I won’t try to describe how the rest of us felt. Suffice to say we were knocked down, whacked and banged and battered about until we were just worn out, even after the feeling of deathly nausea had passed away. The universal cry was for rest - just one half hour of dry land."
The artist writes, "For a week I lived mainly on ice. I didn’t grow much fatter. It was greatly amusing to hear the sea coming over the deck and down the stairs and past the cabin door, hissing and seething, fizzing like champagne in a passion. Once the stewardess could not get to me unless she waded knee deep in water through the passage. And the doctor was taking a mustard plaster to a patient, and he fell and dislocated his knee, and a passenger slipped on deck, cut his head open and knocked himself insensible.
The next letter however, was composed on February 21, 1883, and was posted from the Town of Huntsville. It contained information about the train and sleigh journey west and north to Muskoka. It presented an unexpected, abrupt arrival at the cross-roads in her life, between mourning for her old life, homesickness, fear of failure, and yet the spark of challenge liberation presented. It would allow the artist to flourish, with a period of solitude yet inspiration, a deep well that would bring her back to Muskoka many times, following world-wide missions with the Salvation Army. It was the place she would choose for her final vigil, due to illness, simply enjoying the view from the porch of her brother’s Huntsville home.
This column series is dedicated to the Gravenhurst Salvation Army Food Bank, in Ada’s memory. I hope you can find it in your heart, to make a donation to a food bank serving your community. The need for many extends well beyond the Christmas season, and is a 12 month a year struggle for food bank operators. You kindness is greatly appreciated.
As for these cats on the window sill, I think March agrees with them.
No comments:
Post a Comment