On a seasonably warm day in April, author Sandra C. Johnston walked into Daisy's Treasure Trove in White Rock, British Columbia. At the time, Johnston faced a crossroads in her life, and that visit to Daisy's thrift store changed her life's outlook. In this memoir, she narrates the story of how she met ninety-one-year-old Daisy Walls, the lessons she learned, and how the relationship affected her. A Journey with Daisy not only describes Johnston's experiences volunteering in the store-where every day was a rich experience with both the customers and employees-but also demonstrates the impact Daisy had as an elder mentor as she modeled kindness, tenacity, compassion, and courage. A combination of prose, poetry, and reflection, A Journey with Daisy narrates a journey of self-discovery and spiritual and personal growth. It encourages you to live passionately, gives you the breath to speak what you know, delivers nourishing soul food, and inspires you with the courage to face what you see without looking away from it.

A Journey with Daisy

Belonging is a BlessingBy Sandra C. Johnston

iUniverse, Inc.

Copyright © 2010 Sandra C. Johnston
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4502-7178-3

Chapter One

"Look, then, into thine heart and write!" Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

When a writer decides to tell a story, the teller never knows the outcome. This is the magic of the story.

Stories set our inner lives into motion when they might be frightened, wedged or cornered. They can point to a way out a way out. May these stories about my experiences at Daisy's Treasure Trove lead you back to your real life. May these tales bring you insight, encourage you to live passionately, give you the breath to speak what you know, deliver nourishing soul food, and inspire you with the courage to face what you see without looking away from it.

This is a book of telling about my personal experience with an 'elder' woman. I met her on my path of re-discovery of my essential Self. To diagram her, to draw boxes around her life would be contrary to her spirit and mine. To have come to know her was to know more about myself, an ongoing process. I am sure that it will be lifelong work for me even after I complete the story.

So, here are some stories that you can use as food for your soul, some observations and some fragments that can serve to help you map new psychic territory.

Here is to true life!

It all began on an unseasonably warm day, in April, in White Rock, British Columbia. I had committed to help my new bosses paint their healing center before the grand opening but I did not have enough cash to cover the cost of the required parking time metered on the available parking lots. I had passed by Daisy's Treasure Trove a few times, always with the intention of stopping into the store to browse. Thrift shops have intrigued me ever since my grandmother called me with such joy to her bedroom after she had visited the local bargain store. It seemed to me then, that she had to hide her treasures from Grandpa, but she delighted in showing her bargains to me behind closed doors. Perhaps it was her way of sneaking a little life for herself.

I parked in front of the Treasure Trove and entered the store. A gentle-faced lady stylishly dressed with carefully coiffed white hair and remarkable blue-gray eyes greeted me.

"I have a problem," I was honest with her.

"Tell me your problem," she smiled at me.

"Are you Daisy?" I wanted to know.

"Yes, I am, and how can I help you?" she continued to query.

"I need a parking space for the day because I am helping people to paint their store and I realize that I don't have enough money for the parking meters. I was wondering what you might charge for the day. I have five dollars with me."

Daisy wrote a note on a heart shaped piece of paper letting the meter man know that her space had been paid for and she instructed me to place the notice on my dashboard. I was so relieved because the real truth was that five dollars was all the money I had for the next week. My trip west had been a financial drain. I was full of hope, however.

"Thank you so much, Daisy, and I promise to be back to see you." I left to fulfill my obligations.

A few weeks later, after the painting of the healing center had been completed, I went to visit with Daisy and to see her treasures. She was interested in me and inquired, "What line of work are you in?"

I had a conversation with her then about coming to the west coast, landing in White Rock, and intending to resume my work as a psychotherapist, movement therapist and educator. She asked me to bring her some business cards and told me that she would be happy to send business my way but that she would like to know more about me. I learned that day that she created the store originally to help the handicapped and the challenged people in the area and that it was registered in Victoria as Modern Services for the Handicapped. In the moments that I was engaged with Daisy in conversation, I became aware of the presence of two people in the store who continued to ask her about their next duties and she directed them. I was well aware by the time I left the premises that they could not seem to initiate store activities on their own and relied upon Daisy for defined instructions regarding their responsibilities.

Daisy Irene Jansen was incarnated into the world on September fifteenth, 1918 in Czar, Alberta. She was the fourth born of eight children in this order: Mary, Ruby, Gertrude, Daisy, Helen, Evelyn, Archie and a brother Gordon who had passed away in infancy. Daisy's mother, Lydia Lillian Schafer, was born in Turner, Iowa. Her father, Gordon Edwin Jansen had been born in Russia.

Daisy remembers her mother sharing with her that her father, "was one of the good lookers at school with wavy hair." She told Daisy that of all of the girls, "I won him over." "He did not turn out to be the prize package that my mother thought he was, but he was good to us kids." I was aware that this was the child's assessment of her mother's unhappiness and her own ambivalence toward her father.

I was curious and asked how her father showed love for her mother.

"I did not see love because I knew that he liked the ladies. He was a charmer. I never saw my parents hug or kiss," she revealed.

"What do you remember most about your mother, Daisy?"

"Well, I believe that mother was a good wife having baby after baby," she answered and then added, "I don't remember mother without a swollen belly ever." Daisy, engaged in deep thought, then went on. "We moved a lot as a family all over the prairies it seemed. My father was a farmer and I went to a lot of different schools."

"Was that difficult for you, Daisy?" I felt compassionate for the child in her.

"No, I don't believe that it was hard. I guess that I thought it was kind of special and I did not know any better," she reframed the dynamics of her childhood.

"It must have been difficult to make friends," I commented.

"I was just so homely," she stated seriously. I could not help but giggle because I had never heard anyone say that about oneself.

I remarked feeing stunned by the revelation, "Really Daisy?"

"I don't think that the kids liked to play with me. My hair was shaped like a bowl, except that the sides were longer and I had bangs. I wasn't up with the styles of the times and I wore hand-me-down clothes," she smiled at me. Here I was sitting in a thrift shop surrounded by second-hand clothes!

I started to feel sad as I sat beside this beautiful woman and I began to wonder how different she might have felt when she compared herself to others. I felt as though I had a soul connection to her.

Rick, who lived behind the store entered at that point and asked Daisy about the size of the tutu she had in the window. She started to laugh and replied, "I don't think that it will fit you, Rick."

"I am just teasing you Daisy. I do need a costume for a Halloween party, and I know for sure that I need a black tie." Daisy got up from her chair and went to get a bag from behind the store counter.

"Rick, hold on. I have a gift for you." She must have sensed his anxiety. Rick looked surprised and Daisy asked me to grab the camera off the shelf and to take a picture of the two of them as Rick opened the gift. He lifted up an orange shirt that she had bought especially for him to wear for Halloween. She informed him that she had purchased it at Wal-Mart the previous evening. I snapped a...