She Tales # 11 - Lady Fay
A perplexing question of kindness… If you were walking in a forest near your home and met a pair of recently married, seemingly nice strangers, from a far off place, would you bring them home with you and put them up for the night? If the answer is no, and I would postulate that it would be, here is a true story of uncommon kindness to warm your heart.

It all started in Pooh Country, which is a little known corner of the world, nestled in the green rolling hills and forests of Southern England, just southeast of London. Hartfield is the town’s official name, but it is known by many as Pooh Country, because this is where A. A. Milne and E. H. Shepard collaborated and wrote none other than the Winnie the Pooh books. Christopher Robin, the little boy in the books, actually played here in the Ashdown forest and its neighboring and familiar (if you know anything about Pooh) 100 Acre Woods. Christopher Robin is the son of A.A. Milne, the family lived here, the forest was their back yard, and the stories were based on this very real place. My Christopher and I had stopped briefly in town at the quaint Pooh Corner store to pick up a map to Poohsticks Bridge, Roo’s sandy pit, and the Enchanted Place.

After five exciting games of Pooh sticks , each followed with a finger full of honey, we had tied with me winning two games, Chris winning two games and one game being a draw. Next, there was the hike off to Gill’s Lap, Roo’s sandy pit and the Enchanted Place. It was here as Chris and I stood arm in arm at the tallest point in the forest, looking down across miles of forest and farms reaching out into the hazy horizon in the distance, that we met Fay. She came with her two four-legged companions Millie and Norris, and her friend Jill. We chatted and laughed for a while, enjoying the late afternoon view, and then we said goodbye. Chris and I went back to our car, retrieved our guidebook and were discussing where we should spend the night. Just then, out of the blue, Fay and Jill pulled up in a car with the dogs, Jill leans out the window and yells over to us that Fay would like to know if we would like to come home with her and spend the night at her cottage. Chris and I exchange looks of disbelief and I shout back “Are you sure we won’t be inconveniencing you?” Fay says, “Of course not, or I wouldn’t have come for you.” Still a little shocked at Fay’s generous offer, we agree and follow them along to her home.

Fay’s gate opens to a wonderful, large overgrown English garden: a stone path leads us through vine covered trellises, bird feeders and thick trunked tall trees to the door of this shingle roofed, lovely old brick cottage. Fay shows us where her key is hidden just in case we come home from supper late, then leads us into her home and up the stairs to the bed we can have for the night. It is a fine room with a lavender covered goose down comforter on the bed and the walls were covered with pictures of her family, her friends and her dogs, mostly her dogs. Back down stairs we go and out into the back garden. She told us wear we should go for drinks and dinner and then said “Come and go as you please, just treat me like I was your old mom or Grandmother.” We talked and listened for a while in the garden as she shared her stories about her life and her family. Fay is 82 years young, and a good example to live by. She loves life, most of the time that is, as she is not fond of mornings. She has had an amazing life full of ups and downs, uncertainty, laughter and tears. She has raised a son, 2 foster children and saved the lives of many dogs from the rescue shelter. She has had back surgery, knee replacement, hip replacement, all sorts of arthritis, she is a cancer survivor and she is still full of a gentle energy. I listened until nearly one in the morning, she with her sherry as I sipped a bit of Irish Whiskey. Late into the night she made me smile with her captivating conversation, she has known so many people. At age 82 and after all her physical body has been through, she still rides a motor scooter to get around, I guess she just straps her walking canes to the side. She puts on her best and goes to parties in the town, when there are such occasions, and once a year she goes to the Glienbourn Opera. My ears wanted to go on and hear more, but my body had to sleep. I kissed her goodnight and went up to our room and fell fast asleep. Fay went out into the yard to feed the foxes just as she does every night.

I awoke to a charmed morning; the sun was shining, the birds were singing in the colorful blooming garden. Looking out the window to find a squirrel precariously perched upside down on one of her bird feeders having his breakfast. I just sat there for a moment and took it all in, how amazing and unexpected. I went down stairs to find Fay, we exchanged waves and I waited for Fay to speak the first words, as she does not like mornings. She was wearing a purple dressing gown or robe, and was combing her white hair. The first words finally came and we all went outside to the garden for coffee, tea and more stories. Fay has a motor boat, she sold most of her furniture in order to buy it 20 years ago at age 62, next week she and the dogs will go out on the river Thames for a week on a holiday, just her, the dogs and the river. Fay’s husband was killed in World War II; she does not have a penny in the bank, and says she hardly ever has. Fay is a living tribute to the adage “Money can’t buy happiness” but in her case, “Spunk, tenacity and a little hard work and the right outlook on life is a recipe for happiness.” She gave us lots of advice on life like – “ If you don’t look forward to things, you will never be disappointed, just take what comes.” And always teach you children to say “May I have” and not “I want” and lots of other sage advice.

Fay has character, she is funny and eccentric. In such I short time I have come to know her as loving, warm, generous, trusting and kind to animals. If someone was in need and she could help them, she would. As we left, I noticed two long ropes and a piece of wood hanging from a tall tree branch above making a swing. I took a picture of her swinging on that swing, her long purple robe flowing in the breeze, her white hair blowing back and forth across her face and a smile I hope I will never forget. We hugged goodbye and as we drove away she blew me a kiss. I will never forget Fay or her stunning generosity.