Mother’s closest companion growing up was her “sister” Frances.

Due to a unique generational arrangement, Frances, who was a couple of years younger than Mother, was actually her aunt. I always called her Aunt Frances.

Mother had many wonderful memories of the fun and mischief the two of them got up to playing together as little girls. It was The Depression, so they didn’t have much, but they had a very rich childhood. They used to “pretend,” which they called “play-like,” which was pronounced “plike.”

“Let’s plike the porch swing is a train and we’re going on a trip.”

This little tea set that they shared was a very special possession. It sits in my dining room today.

I don’t actually believe things happen quite like this, but Mother did; so I “plike” Frances ran to meet Mother early in the morning on Christmas Eve.