Dolores Crawford, apron saint.

By then she was widowed some years.

Still full of beans.

Youthful face and skin.

Depths of Love within.

Had a place on Hwy. 3

Few miles from Blenheim.

Orchards all around.

Lakeside ground.

Secondary building had been

Husband’s Workshop.

Then converted to hospitality house.

Named it the Carpenter’s Shop.

Place to rest, discuss Jesus.

Pray one for another.

Get clean and collected.

Just what God expected.

I visited with a motley group.

(Included national director

Of Prison Ministries Canada.)

There we stooped for one another.

Washed feet.

Took Communion’s elements.

Seemed relaxed and simple.

No hard sell there.

Dolores simply loved you to death.

Death to self-assurance and closed hands.

She served cherry pies that were

the best in the world.

Excellent fresh fruit from

Lake Erie breezes and rains.

And Heaven’s gains.