The Quaker Meeting House was and still is the Spiritual Heart of our community. There it still sits in an ageless grove of whispering pine trees, a quiet, old, grey-brick Meeting House. Cloaked in traditional simplicity, this meeting place of the Religious Society of Friends still sheds a reassuring Light of Peace and Fellowship, while ever listening for that "Still Small Voice" to guide the world into a better way of service to all MANKIND.

The Quaker Meeting House It is still standing in that Ageless Grove of Whispering Pine Trees, a Symbol of Love, Hope, Peace, and Goodwill, to a troubled World.

Watering troughs for thirsty horses were common in some places in rural Ontario well into this century. The Coldstream area boasted at least two of them. They were kindly donated by the "Band of Mercy" and were located in areas where fresh spring water is available.

Now I must hurry home, happy to leave several farmers still waiting for their "Grist" or lumber. They are still yarning and puffing, and chewing and spitting.

On my way home I pass our Town Hall, an imposing, white building surrounded by a white picket fence.

Here I am assailed by the bitter-sweet smell of soft coal smoke from Sam Clair's Blacksmith shop. Just ahead, I hear the clang, clang, clang of that heavy hammer pounding on the unyielding steel anvil, as Old Sam, the blacksmith, shapes the red hot iron into the proper size and shape for his purpose. Then, the acrid smell of burning hoof as the hot shoe is fitted to the not-so-patient horse's foot, assails my senses. All of these smells mingle with other horsey odours common to farms in those days.

Here Old Sam, with his ever-tobacco-stained white beard, together with his bachelor son Jack, serves our community for many years. Here, it is said, they would be kept busy in the summer shooing everything from horse-flies and mosquitoes to unbroken Clydesdale colts. It is also said they would attempt to repair anything from a pair of iron nose-spectacles to most any kind of farm machinery. In this way they helped to hammer out many of our horsey problems and also help maintain our rapidly deteriorating farm equipment and our way of life.

Well, I leave Sam Clair's Blacksmith Shop, with the sound of the anvil chorus ringing in my ears. I saunter on with a basket of groceries in one hand and a can of coal oil in the other. I am in no hurry so I pause now and then for a bit of a rest. Ahead are those "Lazy Curves" and then a view showing a cluster of farm buildings - a white frame house, an unpainted "bank" barn, some out buildings and the proverbial strawstack in the barnyard. Farther on, in the shade of friendly maple trees is the mailbox and the laneway leading to this farm home.

Alas, these buildings and landmarks are now gone, trampled under by the relentless feet of Time. The last to go was this old House. It was filled with a veritable medley of Memories, some happy, some sad and painful. Gone too, is that grand old Elm Tree and the road making those Beautiful Lazy Curves -- too slow, I reckon for the rapidly changing times. Gone are the Watering Troughs. Gone are the thirsty horses.

Time has altered my village, as well. Sam Clair's Blacksmith Shop was replaced, first by a gas bar and service station to serve a new generation of vehicles, and is now a cabinet Shop.

Marsh's Mill, after many years of useful service to the community, has slowly collapsed and mouldered into dust. A Heritage plaque is now all that marks the spot.

The mill pond for a time lost its natural beauty when it became an important part of a conservation project with a new dam. A bathing facility was created. However, this too is reverting to a natural pond and marsh. The frogs and turtles and muskrats have again returned.

The Townhall was converted for use as a Firehall to serve the expanded community. A new modern Municipal Building now serves this community.

Marsh's General Store, keeping its external identity as a heritage landmark, is now a Gift Shop and Tea Room.

Gone is the little White School house where I learned to cope. Ah yes, a new human environment and a new culture now predominate in my Coldstream Village.

Well, so be it.

However, all of the original buildings are still here in my memory and serve as the setting for My Grass Root Memories.

The events which I now recall and narrate to you, occurred at about the time of the ending of the Horse-n-Buggy Era. Horsepower was just grudgingly giving way to Auto power, and the impact of industrialisation was slowly making changes in our way of life.