Maria Klassen
May 23, 1915 – Feb 10, 1998

She was soft, gentle, familiar and patient to a fault. She never raised her voice or punished severely, but she expected obedience. She believed in friendship and peer support. She always encouraged participation and in all we ever attempted, she was our biggest champion and advocate, firmly believing that we could accomplish anything that we set out to do. She lead by example, participating in the community, attending Ladies Aid and Home and School meetings.

She was always ready to go — suggest that we do something and she was willing! She had a way of making things happen. She spearheaded The Girls Club which was similar to Girl Guides. Her tenacity was such that if she made a decision, she persisted, gently but with unswerving dedication and sometimes with a little manipulation, until it happened. She didn't get her driver's licence until she was almost a senior. In those years this was the norm for women. What a nuisance it must have been to try to schedule your life around the farm duties, the husband's free time and the children's schedules!

But she never complained. She cooked from scratch, did chores, gardened, canned, knitted, helped with homework, divided her time between the farm, the home and the community with never a thought for her own needs, although she must have had some.

Through it all her faith never faltered. She taught us to love a gentle God. Although she struggled with various health issues throughout her life, she leaned on her faith in The Lord to carry her when times were rough and rejoiced in Him when times were good. She was contented with her life but she sometimes said, perhaps a little longingly, that she would have enjoyed going abroad and doing some missionary work. She enjoyed people. She loved to play board and card games.

She had an uncanny knack for making beautiful things, like her 'icebox flowers.' She always kept an eye on current fashions and trends and had this wonderful ability to sew anything without a pattern.

She never said a bad word about anyone; she cared about everyone. In later years when physical difficulties impaired her motor skills and her speech, words became hard to articulate and she spent days on end in her wheelchair without saying a word. One day a nurse in the nursing home was grumbling aloud to herself that, "nobody cares". Mom hadn't spoken for weeks but she quietly turned to the nurse and said, "I care". After her death, the nurse related this incident to us with tears in her eyes. Those two simple words, "I care" had meant so much.

She cared — about everyone.