Well I said I never minded the work in the big house and it’s true. I worked in two other big houses close to granma’s cottage and I never minded the work. The last big house I worked in was the Ross Priory. Then, when I was 16 my dad asked me if I would be at the cottage and help my aunt (his sister) in caring for granma in her last days, and that is what I did.

Conditions at the cottage were very primitive with no running water and a wash-house in the yard, paraffin stoves and oil lamps. For one year I worked in this situation as my beloved granma deteriorated; so weak; it had now been 8 years since she took her stroke; such a slow, sad time with her speech paralysed too.

Then, one day, as I stood washing the sheets in freezing cold water, there was a very slight movement from the bed behind me.  Yes; sink, table, bed... all in one room, that’s how it was. I turned and saw..., just a finger... beckoning me!! So weak she was, her arm fell back to the bed, and over the side of the bed. I bent my head close to her "to hear what she might say" (like "A soldier of the Legion.." poem my mother used to read to us). So I bent my head and she with great difficulty, spoke the words I will cherish forever: "I’ll...... never..... forget..... you..."

What an amazing... what a lovely reward to keep forever!! I believe I knew from that day that we do not die! Four weeks later she was gone; 22nd December 1945. But, before we leave my beloved grandmother’s cottage, I must tell one more story that I have told a thousand times to my own children yet is not one bit diminished in me for the telling, for it stood all these years as a cornerstone of my Faith.

I was of course still only in my early teens and on this day I had the mats out on the washing line, beating them with the old cane beater, tears streaming down my face for an injustice that knocked the wind from my sails: my "Room With A View" picture, sent to my mother to share my pleasure at being in the big house, brought back the reply reflecting my mother’s dismay that a daughter of hers had been ’put into service’: "Never mind dear", she wrote, "it won’t be for long", to which my poor over-burdened aunt reacted; She thought I must surely have been complaining about my life to my mum. So there I stood out at the washing line, tears streaming when suddenly came a clear voice, not inside me but some small distance above my head:  "When the crooked things are straightened, and the dark things are made plain..."

I was stunned beyond belief. I cannot to this day fully convey it.

I had grown up singing "Jesus, friend of little children, be a friend to me, take my hand and ever hold me, close to Thee..."  And here He was; that Still Small Voice of the Comforter!! So it was Real! You Are There!!! You Can See!!! Well then, I’ll give you my life and serve you until death when you Call me, I vowed, standing there in the yard of my grandmother’s cottage.

Three years later, that same Voice, same awe, same clarity: "Come Now!! Someone will knock when the door is shut, shall you, shall I?!" I did not hesitate: Not me Lord! I’ll come now! And that happened returning home from Lochside Cottage, that unforgettable day that I was able to go to the Meeting at Lochside Cottage; ’The Dam’; able to go because granma had passed away.

And so it was, in the New year of 1946, shortly after granma’s death I had my first and wonderfully memorable visit to Lochside Cottage. We locked the door on granma’s cottage for the first time!! For the first time, I did not have to stay and look after granma! I found Lochside to be a place of joy and gladness and goodwill to all. Our friends and relatives were all gathered, many of whom I had not seen since before the War way back in the ’30s.

After this very exciting New Year, I went back to work at ’The Ross’ for six more months until I got my specific ’Call’, back to the Mission once more, this time to Ireland. Well, maybe this was the first time, since before, I was just a child, but I was surely building on my wonderful childhood memories.

And this is how I came to work for my future mother-in-law, aunt Agnes, being a support for her as she catered for the constant stream of  folk who came to hear the Word of the Lord, once again the ’Open Door’: "invite no one but welcome all who come" (knowing that the Lord sent them). It was my great joy to work for this lady. I had of course known and loved her as a young child in the London Mission. She was as fun and full of stories as she was back then, and, always, very kind to me. It was a breath of fresh air and such a contrast to my early teenage years.

Then I will tell you I have worked in a nunnery, to the surprise of my own people(!) and of course I have worked to raise all of our children. I have sat amidst a great pile of washing after our summer journey back to Ireland with all the children, sat and cried at the mountain of work before me. I have stood and ironed everything from shirts to sheets to pillowcases and, like my mother in the early days, sewn the children’s clothes when our money could not stretch to these. And I have baked; baked scones and pancakes and pies and cakes. And cooked, cooked pots of soup, too many to count, and mince and tatties the Scottish way, and the sweeties of the old country, the tablet and the shortbread.... and cups of tea to fill a lake....

And finally, my time came to work outside the home, when all the children were getting more independent and their daddy took his first heart attack. The doctor’s gave him 6 hours to live but he survived and lived another 14 years. But the fact we nearly lost him shook us and it shook us up, him as well. I learned to drive for one thing, so as not to be so helpless. We changed our eating habits; the old Scottish diet that was fuel for a ploughman was too much for our town living. And I went on to do several jobs over the years, earning a proper wage for my labours which was a change! But of course, like so many other women, I still carried my workload at home.

A man may work from sun to sun, but a woman’s work is never done.. That’s what they used to say at least, but maybe that’s no longer true. It’s a different world when everyone lends a hand and it’s a great thing to see everyone come together and share the load.