Our black pot bellied "Oak" brand wood stove filled with chunks of flaming maple glowered in the early winter cold. The old stove drove the
cold from our living room but did precious little to warm the rest of the old house on Spring Street.
An ancient iron register above the stove in the ceiling was the only source of heat for the entire bed roomed upstairs area. Six shivering
pajama clad Wintle kids who still believed in Santa Claus whispered to each other sitting around the register on the second floor.
"Of course he's coming." Ella said. "Why wouldn't he?"
"Well, cause he has so many other places to go. That's why" I said. Our faith in the fat man with the red suit allowed us not to worry so
much about the mill shut down. Amos Abbott Mill had laid its workers off for the holidays. Fortunately there was a more practical group of Dexter
citizens who knew that there was no Jolly Old Elf who visited on Yule time starry lit nights with his rein deer who doled out presents to good
little boys and girls..
The Sunshine Club a group of local women made the children of poor families their mission. The club that was founded in 1903 by a group of
local women lived by the spirit of their convictions. Their motto was "Service not sermons".
While the photo above is of the group in 1953, my memories are from 1957 and Freda Haines was among the names that springs to my mind.
There were other generous people including Jan Rines, Betty Holsapple, Edith Wilbur, Bill Nadeau the local cab driver at the time who delivered the Christmas gifts that the Sunshine Club ladies collected from local families and merchants.
Small town generous hearts matter and I know at least six of us that are still grateful.
Fred
