Believe it or not, ducks played a part in my discernment process. If you're interested in a walk down somebody else's memory lane, you can read about my mystical moment of Christmas Eve 2004.

But that, my friends, is not the main subject of this post. Well, in a way I suppose it is, as this post is also about ducks. Two ducks to be exact.

On Holy Thursday I was enjoying a lovely evening meal after mass with my Sisters here at St-Mary-on-the-lake. It's staying lighter in the evenings so it was still light and I was facing the outside windows. All of a sudden, I saw a duck stick it's face to the window pane and peer in. Then I saw her friend do the same thing. "Look!" I said to my table mates, "There are two ducks outside!". "Oh, they're back," one of the Sisters said, "they come every spring. I think one of the Sisters feeds them." "Really," I said, amazed at how they were still staring at us through the window. "Yes," she said. "There names are George and Gertrude."

At this point, I promptly spit out the festive sparkling cider I was drinking. You see .... that's what my parents used to call each other! George and Gertrude weren't their real names, but on Christmas morning the romantic presents would be from Gertrude to George and vice versa.

What are the odds that the ducks would have the same names? I've been doing some investigative work, trying to see how the ducks got the names George and Getrude. As far as I can tell, they were named by Sister Margaret who passed away last year on Pentecost Sunday. So, I guess it's up to my mom to find out the story from Sister Margaret, since they're both living in the same place these days.

In the meantime, I'm keeping an eye out for George & Gertrude.

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