My grandmother had a row of figurines on the valance board in her living room. As a child, they felt like companions watching over me as I read, or drew, or daydreamed.  My grandmother had more precious objects in her dining room cabinet, but these were colourful and alive, full of personality.  I found out, as an adult, that most of the figurines were bought as impromptu gifts for my grandmother by mom, when she was a young woman working downtown. I can imagine my grandmother’s delight when her newly grown-up daughter would come home from work on the streetcar, bearing a new inhabitant for the living room.

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