A Witch's Destiny Read online

  A Witch’s Destiny

  An Irish Witch Romance

  Leigh Ann Edwards

  A Witch’s Destiny

  Copyright© 2018 Leigh Ann Edwards

  Kindle Edition

  The Tule Publishing Group, LLC

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  First Publication by Tule Publishing Group 2018

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  ISBN: 978-1-948342-65-0

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  Dedication

  For the final instalment of the original Irish Witch Series, I would like to dedicate A Witch’s Destiny, not to one person, but to an entire village, my childhood home where I spent fifteen years of my life, the wonderful little prairie farming town of Medora, Manitoba.

  I was once asked by someone in genuine seriousness, if I felt like I had missed out because I was from a small town or if I ever wished I had lived in a city with more amenities and opportunities. I was truly completely taken aback. I had always considered myself really lucky to have been raised in a small town and I wouldn’t have traded my beloved little hometown for any major city or larger center. Because this person had always lived in a city, I knew there was no point in attempting to explain to her what it meant to me to have grown up in our close-knit village.

  Of course, those of who resided there, constantly put up with the many comments of “Oh, Medora, don’t blink or you’ll miss it, or even more often of people never even having heard of it, but we all took it in stride, proud of our community, knowing it was a great place to live, an amazing town to raise children and an absolutely fantastic place to be a child.

  My grandmother’s family, the Tweeds relocated to the Medora area from Ontario in the late 1800s when my grandma was only eighteen months old. My grandfather’s family the Edwards, also from Ontario, came soon after. Some of their descendants, my cousins, still live in the area.

  During the 1920’s the town was larger and had apparently upwards of 400 people, three churches, as well as many more businesses and even a lumber yard, but it was considerably smaller when I was a child. I don’t know the actual population, but there were perhaps 30-35 houses in the town, and if I were to guess, there were less than 100 people.

  Medora United Church was the one functioning church when I was living in the town. Besides church services, Sunday school, and choir practice, youth groups, bridal showers, and meetings, countless weddings and funerals were held there in the lovely little white church with the bell tower. I remember my Great Aunt Hilda Tweed was the organist and although I wasn’t a member of the church choir, occasionally she would ask me sing a solo in church. My friend Vicki and I also used to go in to the always open church to practice singing or to preach sermons, but it was never done in a disrespectful way, we really just liked being there. Unfortunately after a drifter came through and vandalized the church, the doors had to be kept locked from then on.

  The church finally had to be demolished due to an unstable roof and I’m sure the whole village was terribly saddened that day.

  There was one general store in Medora, Onslow’s Solo store where my mother worked for several years wrapping meat in the meat department. The attached post office was operated by Mr. Brown and then later by the Onslows, as well.

  The town had one garage/car-dealership owned by Bob Tweed, my dad’s uncle. I believe Benny Barnes had another garage mostly used for repair services when I was quite young, but I don’t have many memories of that.

  In Medora there was also one school, one skating/curling rink, 2 grain elevators, 3 and ½ streets and a reasonably busy highway ran through the town. I briefly recall as a small child there was also a café with a jute box, and I was always so excited to go there.

  Barnes’ Hardware Store was open when I was younger, but when it closed that building was made into the community center. With a couple of pool tables and pinball machines, a drink machine and a limited, but tasty menu for meals and snacks, it was a great place to spend time.

  Not only did we know each and every person in the town, as children we were welcome, at any time to drop in to virtually anyone’s home for a visit, snacks, and stories galore. No one ever questioned it, and I don’t remember anyone ever seeming to appear bothered, displeased or too busy for us to be invited in with the same warm reception as our parents would have received.

  Each person in the town was unique and has a special place in my memories. Because my brother, Kerry, and I also had a paper route we got to know many of the residents even better.

  Although the population was small, I can’t begin to list everyone in the village, or my dedication would turn into a novel, but I am going to mention just a few.

  One of my favorite people was the sweet and ever-patient Mrs. Atchinson, my friend, Colleen’s grandmother. She would often play the piano while we sang, or let us spend time in her lovely enclosed veranda. I especially loved the toy which was something like an antique view-master. She always offered us delicious baked goodies (we called them dainties in Manitoba).

  My brother and I, along with a group of friends would stop in to be entertained by Timmy Barnes playing his accordion and harmonica, and he would even let us sit in his cherished Model T car.

  Sam Kidd, one of our town’s war veterans would provide treats and stories. Even now after all these years, I have yet to meet a gentleman as kind-hearted as Sam. Although I didn’t know him as well as my younger siblings, he would always leave hum-bug candies sitting out in the little porch when I delivered the paper knowing not every child liked mint-flavored candies, but I always did.

  I remember Mr. Martin’s distinguished English accent and his beautiful English garden. I used to love to listen to him talk and explain to us what each flower was called. I remember the day I turned nine, when Mr. Martin learned it was my birthday, he peeled an orange into a lovely lily and gave it to me. I aspire to one day create an English garden even a fraction as remarkable as his.

  I also adored listening to Mrs. Cameron’s Scottish accent. I would make a point of never leaving her paper between the doors as I did with so many others, as I liked to ask her questions and listen to her appealing accent.

  When we visited Mrs. Burnett, she would tell me stories about my dad when he was a child, because her son and my dad had been friends when he was growing up, which I always thought was really interesting.

  I loved to go to visit my Great Aunt Lorraine as it seemed there were always new kittens to cuddle at her home. Mrs. Holden used to let us take her dog Mitsy for a walk, and Sando’s yellow lab, Ben, was one of my very favorite dogs. He used to spend hours with my brothers and sister and me.

  I was always very excited about Halloween night in our small town. My mum spent a lot of time making really elaborate costumes for us. We used to go to each and every house trick or treating. However, only the bravest of us dared to cross the train tracks to Mrs. Onslow’s house as there were no street lights there. On a moonless night, it was really dark, but her big smil
e and large back of treats were totally worth being scared out of our minds. I recall the delicious popcorn balls, Mrs. Miller made for Halloween, as well. There was only one house that purposely used to turn out the lights so no trick-or-treaters would stop by. We never ever considered being disrespectful and playing tricks on the inhabitants of the home, but we may or may not have sometimes rang their doorbell and run away even when it wasn’t Halloween.

  I went to school in Medora for eight years and have such fond memories of my school years. The brick building with the beautiful bright hollyhocks growing along the east side, was always very special to me. The school had only four classrooms, but it seemed immense to me. My grade had the largest class with ten students, so even though grades were often combined with two or three grades in one classroom, the classes were still quite small.

  I especially loved my very first teacher, Miss Tucker, who taught me grades 1-3. I remember her being very patient and sincerely interested in every child’s well-being. Her warm, positive attitude gave me a really great start and I believe that’s why I loved school all through the years. In grade two, she read my Remembrance Day poem aloud to the class. I recall feeling really proud she would feel it worthy of everyone hearing it. I still credit her for sparking my love of writing.

  I had so much fun at school both during class time and playing outside at recess. The playground consisted of four swings, a slide and two see-saws, (we called them teeter-totters). But there were baseball diamonds and lots of open area to run, as well as a row of trees we were allowed to play in. We played hide and seek, raids and bugs, pom-pom pull-away, four square and 7-Up. We made snow forts and tunnels during the winter. The only game I really did not care for dodge-ball and we often played it during PE. Actually, I despised that game and could never understand why we were made to play a game where someone got hurt every single time.

  My memories of school also involve Medora School’s amazing Christmas concerts. We practiced the plays, songs and pageants for weeks and the concerts were attended by everyone in town.

  I also recall the field-days and track meets through the years always held in the neighboring towns of Deloraine and Waskada alternately.

  I used to walk to school every day (well on occasion our dad who was a water-well driller and couldn’t work throughout the cold Manitoba winters with the ground completely frozen, would drive us there if it was especially cold) and we walked home for lunch as well. It wasn’t a far walk, only about 3 blocks, but I did change it up on occasion. If I went the long way, I could literally stop and smell the roses, beautiful aromatic dark pink roses on the bushes that bordered Mel Warren’s yard, and if I went the short cut, I would walk backwards just for a challenge. Lol

  My brother and I used to race home from school at lunch time to see who could get there first. I am nearly three years older than him so I should have been able to soundly beat him every time, but his class did sometimes get dismissed earlier. I always said the reason I became a fast runner and did well at track meets could simply be chalked up to sibling rivalry.

  I remember being really sad the last day of school in Medora, and several girlfriends and I cried together in the girl’s washroom, knowing everything would change so much leaving our little school behind. I took my last four years of school in the town of Deloraine at a larger school. Medora simply didn’t have the number of students necessary to maintain all the grades, and eventually even the younger students were bussed to Deloraine or Melita and the school was closed completely.

  Although through the years, I had school friends, most of them lived on farms, but there was only one other girl my age who actually lived in town. Therefore, my first best friend, Vicki, and I spent lots of time together growing up. She was at our house a lot, and her parents, Jean and Lloyd were like second parents to me, as well. I couldn’t count the number of times during our pre-teen and teenage years, Vicki and I would stay late at one another’s place usually talking and listening to music together, but then be terrified to walk home alone even though it was only a few blocks and it was usually very quiet. We would run home as fast as we could, singing loudly the whole way. I’m not sure if we thought that would frighten away anything or anyone that might be following us or if it simply prevented our over-active imaginations from running rampant.

  Another time Vicki, my brother, Kerry and a couple of his friends got into some mischief was when we went to check out an old abandoned farm house not far from town. We bravely opened one of the bedroom closets on the second floor only to find we had disturbed a whole community of sleeping bats. The startled creatures flew out at us like, well…. like a bat out of hell, only there had to be at least thirty of them. To this very day, I am terrified of those creatures and I think it is safe to say, that put an end to me exploring abandoned buildings.

  The skating/ curling rink was really the hub of our town. Nearly everyone curled, skated or played hockey. My two brothers both played hockey, my sister took figure skating lessons and I went to public skating for many years. Curling was taken very seriously and the curlers from Medora have done extremely well for many decades. The bonspiel in Medora was always held in February. My parents often curled in the annual bonspiel and I recall walking there for lunch once or twice during bonspiel week and it was always a treat.

  I attended Sunday School, Messengers, Explorers and CGIT at the United Church and 4-H at the school or at our leaders’ homes. I recall every one of the many dedicated leaders/instructors that volunteered a great deal of their time so willingly. I will always remember the achievement nights, the Halloween and Christmas parties, Christmas caroling, and the candle-light Vesper services. The fall dinners and strawberry socials, the ladies’ groups and church put on were always delicious, and really memorable as well.

  There was a group of about about six friends or more who used to play on an old threshing machine located in an open field behind one of our friend’s houses. We would spend hours on end playing there. That old piece of farm machinery was everything from a covered wagon, a super-heroes hide out, to a pirate ship, a space ship, and a time machine.

  Although it probably wasn’t known by any of the adults in town, some of my friends and I used to climb through a window of the long empty Baptist church in town and use the communion glasses for elegant tea-parties.

  We also used to walk out to the train bridge and spend lots to time out under the bridge, catching frogs and snakes, playing in the water often unsupervised for hours, but with safety in numbers we never felt we were in danger and it was just how it was back then. Of course as an adult, I now see how many of these activities might be considered undeniably dangerous. Now with with the extremely diligent parenting/helicopter parenting and parent judging/shaming of today, understandably so much of this wouldn’t be permitted or accepted now, but there was something in the freedom we enjoyed as children that made our imaginations soar and our childhoods truly magical.

  Yet, we did have quite firm rules. We had to be home for lunch and supper, and before dark unless we had been given permission to eat or sleep over at a friend’s house. I vividly recall being grounded for a week for coming home five minutes later than expected from public skating because my Mum knew I would be walking home alone, and I was always, always on time. I tried to explain I was late because the bell signaling the end of skating was rung late, but my Mum, didn’t waver. I know now she was reacting out of fear, and as a parent and grandparent, I fully understand that.

  As a teenager I did a lot of babysitting as there weren’t many jobs available to young people in our tiny town, but I actually always really enjoyed spending time with the youngsters in the area. I remember loving to go watch the Grierson children, not only were our mothers, best friends so I felt like they were family, they also had a beautiful color television set years before our family purchased one.

  My family always enjoyed movies so we sometimes went to the movie theatres in one of the neighboring towns or the Sunset Drive In Theatre
in Melita, which was extra special. There was something about the whole family crowding into the car and having to wait till the sun went down to watch the movie. The sound on the speaker you needed to hang on the car window was always filled with static, and when people walked in front of your car you couldn’t see the movie, but the popcorn was great and the time together priceless.

  Our home was the western most house in the village and living on the open prairie, the sunsets there were absolutely stunning, and second to none, anywhere I have ever lived since.

  Now that my parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles have all passed, and our small village is considerably smaller with only a post office and the community center still in use, I only return to Medora once a year mostly to visit the lovely, serene treed cemetery. But even going there is like walking down memory lane and bringing my childhood alive again with the resplendent memories of those resting there who played an important part of my childhood.

  I am not insinuating life was without unpleasantness. There was the occasional feud between families, the usual amount of small town gossip, and like anywhere anytime, children could be very cruel to others even in our little school. That always upset me to see children being left out or treated unkindly.

  Because we lived so near the highway we experienced loss when more than a few of our family’s cherished pet cats were hit by a car. I will also never forget the evening, Mitsy, Mrs. Holden’s cocker spaniel, was killed crossing the highway when we were walking with her.

  Our tiny community was not exempt from deep tragedy as well. I recall several young people were killed in car accidents before they finally altered the roads in our area and took out the unforgiving curves. There were also farm accidents that claimed limbs and lives.

  When I was in grade four, a classmate was called away from our lessons and taken home. We learned later it was because his mother had finally succumbed to cancer. I still remember how frightened that made me feel for up till then, no one I knew had lost their mum.