When I was a first-time mom with a one-month-old son and my husband was finishing law school, we bought a house that needed a lot of work. The house was in Chestertown, where I knew one person and he had met one person (not the same people). It was a move of optimism or foolishness, depending upon your point of view.
We were beyond lucky to have neighbors who made it all seem easy. Next door was Catherine Ford, recently retired from a local bank, who welcomed us on moving day with a bouquet of flowers freshly cut from her garden and an invitation to come visit with the baby anytime. Across the street was a couple, Bertha and Clinton Jones, also retired, who invited us in for a cool glass of tea and an offer to answer any questions we might have.
It wasn’t as if we hadn’t crossed paths before, but during the seven months that we remained in the city during the week and visited our alteration project on the weekends, they kept a friendly distance, allowing us to enjoy our days in peace as we struggled to manage living in one room in the midst of a reconstruction site. We lived on pre-packed sandwiches from home and breakfasts at Ye Olde Coffee Shoppe, where the waitresses fell in love with our son and kept refilling our cups until we practically floated out the door.
Miss Catherine and Miss Bertha became my anchors in our new environment. From the time we became full-time residents, they seemed to wrap their arms around us and become the grandmothers (and great-grandmothers) we had left behind in our old home. If the baby was feeling poorly, they cooked and baked for him. If he was fussy, Miss Catherine would suggest a visit next door so he could “play” with her gentle toy poodle. There were even old toys in both homes that would keep him occupied while one or the other of them helped me relax and feel like the adult self I seemed to misplace from time to time. As our family grew over the years, they continued to spread their arms and hearts to envelop us all.
As newcomers, we tried to find a church, but kept running into ones that did not have, nor seem to want, young children. Miss Catherine allowed as how her church was full of old people and might lack the support and comradeship we needed. Miss Bertha invited us to hers, where we found young families, some of whom are still among our dearest friends all these years later.
Luckily, I have always found special women like Miss Catherine and Miss Bertha in each church we have been part of: Edith Messer, who taught me what gracious hospitality and good food in a church setting looked like; Janet Hewes, who modeled for me that no one is above doing the grunt work; and Ginny Hague, who showed me how to age with grace and dignity. These women have set the bar very high. I hope I will not disappoint them.
Lanny Parks has always loved books. She was a librarian at the EPFL in Baltimore, at Kent School, and Queen Anne’s County, and owned a local bookstore. Her weekly newspaper column ran for over 20 years. She has lived with her family in Chestertown for over 50 years.
Title image: Pond at Pickering Creek Audubon Center, Talbot Co. Photo: Jan Plotczyk