For most of us, the past two years of living through a pandemic and its effects have been challenging and exhausting, and yet, there have been a few areas where the changes have been positive, and some light has shone through the breaks in the clouds of the pandemic.
One of these silver linings for me has been connecting through time with my great-grandmother Elizabeth Craw Uren, who was an early settler in Oro-Medonte. In reading her memoir during the pandemic, I found that her life held lessons that resonated with me as the slower pace gave me a chance to pause and reflect on our busy, pre-pandemic lives.
My great-grandmother Elizabeth Craw Uren was born in 1873 in Hillsdale, to parents who had immigrated from Scotland. Her father, George Craw, attended Knox College in Toronto in 1859, before he was posted as the first Presbyterian Minister in Hillsdale (a position he held until 1890). In 1864, George married Ann Willson, whom he had known in Scotland. Their home was the church manse, across from the log church and cemetery on the Penetanguishene Road. Elizabeth Craw Uren’s memoir, “My Web of Time”, penned in her later years, details with great fondness many details of her rural life in 19th century Medonte.
During the pandemic, I reached the milestone age of 50, and as my great-grandmother observed, “As a general rule, one is not especially interested in one’s forebears until middle life approaches.” This may be another reason “My Web of Time”, which I’ve had in my possession since childhood, resonated with me at this time.
Regardless of your stage in life, the pandemic gave many of us a chance to reflect, and perhaps, re-set; arriving at mid-life at the same time seemed to intensify this effect. The written words of my great-grandmother highlighted to me the importance of an appreciation for nature, the significance of community, and the value of a simpler life.
Elizabeth Craw Uren and her family appreciated the beauty of the natural world around them. “A drive in an open buggy on a lovely starlit night was very delightful. With all our electric lights today, and the rush of modern life, we pay little or no attention to the beauty and majesty of the night sky.” (p.13).
Looking back from her later years, she felt that in her childhood years in Hillsdale, society had a “keener appreciation of the beauty of the world around them.” She recalls that Reverend Craw often drew his children’s attention to the “ever-changing beauty of the clouds, or the varying shades of verdure in gardens or fields, or the lovely shades of brown in a new-plowed field or perhaps just the beauty and symmetry of a single tree standing at the roadside.”
When the lockdown forced our family to pause our busy lives, we often found ourselves exploring the trails and parks of Orillia and Oro-Medonte. These escapes to nature definitely helped us to de-stress, and focus on something other than the pandemic and unsettling global news. It is something that I value from the last two years and an improvement to our daily lives that we are trying to embrace as we move back to some pre-pandemic routines.
Looking back, it would be easy to view Elizabeth Craw’s life as small and insignificant. She herself writes at the start of her memoir: “My own life has been uneventful, but I realize that the story of it may gain in interest as time goes on.” p1 And yet in her memoir she writes with great fondness of her life at the manse and describes a rich and full life. Compared to my life, her community was smaller in terms of sheer volume of people she would know and encounter, and yet in the hamlet of 400 she writes of a vibrant rural life built on strong connections.
Material belongings were few: “We had few luxuries and we never missed them.”
Favourite pastimes for she and her five siblings included sleigh riding, skating on frozen ponds, reading, singing and kite-flying (with home-made kites). Of her childhood with siblings she recollects, “I do not suppose any children had more fun around our home than we had.” p. 64. Holidays and celebrations were much simpler times, and focused more on spending time together than on material things, though there was the excitement of an orange and some extra treats on Christmas day.
During the pandemic, we found that our lives became simpler with all of us at home as well, and we found ourselves spending time baking, reading, and gardening. Material items did not seem as important as in the before-times as priorities shifted. We will not be returning to the lifestyle of the 19th century, but looking ahead, the pandemic has taught us the value of experiences versus things, and the joy of simple pleasures.
A sense of the importance of community shines through in many of the anecdotes in “My Web of Time”. It is clear that Elizabeth Craw Uren felt connected to her local Hillsdale community, including her church community. As the daughter of a minister, she may have experienced more visiting than the average family, and she writes of many entire days with visitors at the manse.
She recalls the excitement of baseball games with neighbouring villages on public holidays, the annual church picnic which was held in a “big pine woods” and lasted all day and into the evening. Her social connections may have been fewer in number than her descendants in the 21st century, but the bonds of her community were strong. The Craws were also close with their neighbours and regularly cooked daily meals for an elderly neighbour, while benefiting from kind neighbours with an apple orchard bordering their property.
During the pandemic, as most of us were confined to our homes, our social circles shrank and the importance of community became crucial to our mental health. Whether through Zoom calls with friends, or outdoor visits, and check-ins with neighbours, having a sense of community is important to a full and healthy life. The pandemic gave us a chance to re-think our social connections and community and become more intentional about where we put our energy. Our family definitely became more connected to our neighbours in Orillia and though we had fewer daily connections with people, the ones we did have, whether in person, or on Zoom, became more meaningful. Everyone needs to feel connected.
Among the many stressors of the past two years, there are some memories that I will cherish. One of them is reading my great-grandmother’s first-hand account of my ancestors in 19th century Medonte. I hope to carry some of the messages of “My Web of Time” forward as we slowly emerge from the cloud of the pandemic.