During king George VI's and Queen Elizabeth's tour of Canada in 1939. Her majesty sent bouquets presented to her in Toronto to patients in the city hospitals.
In the maternity ward of St.Michael's where I was that day , each patient received a tiny white rosebud from every special bouquet in memory of her visit.
Many years later ,I gathered presents for my son's birthday, and set out to have dinner with him and his family in suburbs.
The young taxi driver was curt to the point of surliness and began driving at a dangerous speed . To slow him down without appearing cross, I said ,'Could you take it little easier? I have got some presents for son's birthday, and few are breakable. '
'It's my birthday to the said and nobody is giving me any presents. The tone was bitter.
I started to talk and discovered that he was separated, broke,and generally fed up with his life I asked his age, 'Why you're the same age as my son,'I said. 'Where were you born? I said
He said Toronto!
What hospital ?
I said excitedly, Then your mother and I were giving birth to our son's at the same time.
She must have said you.................
He broke in avidly, She died when I was a baby
I leaned forward and touched his shoulder. Would you like to know what it was like the day you were born? My son like to hear it's
He relaxed a little and nodded. I described the scene ,the crowds in the street because of the royal visit and my concern that the doctor couldn't make it through the traffic jams. By the time I got the Queen's bouquet of white rosebud, we had arrived at my son's house. The driver pulled to a stop, turned around, and gazed at me at strange and wondering look . He said, very, very, softly, Then that's what the dried up petals are in my mother's Bible. I always wondered
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