Blanche lived in the country several miles away from the Senior Center. She always wanted to tell me about her cat, garden, and her son and grandchildren.

Her son and grandchildren lived far away, and rarely had time to visit her. She misses them, but talks to them by telephone whenever she can.

Her cat’s name was Brownie. I was never sure why Blanche called him that. He was cream colored, but he did have small brown spots. I'm sure there was a story behind the cat’s name but if Blanche ever told me, I've forgotten. Her cat was always getting into mischief, and brought her companionship and joy.

I remember one time when I took Blanche home and we found Brownie stuck high up in one of the trees in her front yard. I helped coax him down by climbing halfway up the tree and reaching out to grab him. He was scared and clawed at me so Blanche went inside and brought out bandages and Mercurochrome for my wounds.

We laughed at our cat-in-the tree adventure as Blanche applied the medication and wrapped my wounds. The Mercurochrome stung just a little, but it didn't seem to hurt so much while we laughed together about it.

The cat was none the worse from the experience and ran away behind the house when I brought him down. I didn't see Brownie the next time I took Blanche home and she wouldn't talk about what happened to him. She loved that old cat and it was sad not to see him around.

Occasionally Blanche would pick a few vegetables from her garden and give them to me. “Now don't let anyone see me give these to you,” she would tell me, “because I wouldn’t want them to get jealous. I don’t give just anyone vegetables from my garden.”

I didn't have the heart to refuse her kindness even though I wasn't supposed to accept gifts. She took such pride in growing, harvesting, and sharing her crops with me.

I thought it extraordinary that she would care enough that she would share with me what few vegetables she could grow in her little garden. I never will forget the sparkle in her eyes and the skip in her speech as she gave them to me.

Blanche's garden is overgrown with grass and weeds now as the new owners of her home do not tend the garden. I’ll never forget how good her vegetables tasted, and how much we laughed at Brownie being stuck in the tree. Blanche was a good friend.

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