Spirit of Mother's Day

29th April 2026

Hi. I am Edward. I reside at number 33.

Today I want to share the story of my mother who lived and died in High Street. She brought me up to be a generous and kind citizen.

This story explains how she raised us with her unconditional love for us. People in the neighbourhood believed her to be harsh on us. We thought differently. Values change. Perspectives change. She had boundaries and we disobeyed them. She knew no other way to communicate her love, and fear of our death, than to reinforce her boundaries with the wooden spoon.

Today I want the High St community to hear love is shown in many ways.

She would wake early each morning to stoke the fire. Her breakfasts were prepared with so much love it would melt through the toast and onto our fingers. She would laugh and say, ‘just lick my love from your fingers as you finish your breakfast.’ These were words of genuine love for us as children growing up in her home.

Women of this era were feisty, strong, and a formidable force. What they achieved in a day was truly commendable.

Please share this on Mother’s Day for me. Thanks for listening Fiona.

*33 High Street, Strathalbyn, South Australia

1st May 2026

My name is Vowelsy. You asked if anyone had stories they wanted you to tell. I am one of those.

I was born here along the river bank in a drought. The permanent waterholes sustained our family supplying fresh fish, birds and kangaroos to eat.

We fed the unborn with nutritious foods to ensure the babies were born healthy.

Women would gather close to waterholes each morning to prepare food for the young. We worked together as a community in collaboration to ensure everyone was well fed.

Sometimes we had visitors which meant extra food was required. People were understanding and not greedy at meal times to ensure everyone had enough to sustain them.

Please share my story as you wish on this Mother’s Day.

I appreciate you listening to what I have to say.

*Waterholes along the Angus River, Strathalbyn, South Australia

1st May 2026

My name is Coominyah. I grew up in another Country called Kokatha. I knew your mother.

She was a caring doctor for our community. She would listen to us just like you do. She would always attend to us even when we disrespected her family boundaries. She would care for us with her unconditional love for people. She ensured our health was in good order even when we made her task almost impossible.

She is cared for by us. We are her spirits keeping her safe. When she passes we will be here for you too.

She is wonderful. We all adored her. None of us ever told her just how much we loved her.

Please tell her my story. Please apologise to her for all the late nights she fixed us up after drunken fighting. We disrespected her family and ourselves.

Thank you Fiona. We appreciate you listening to our stories.

*Dr Isabel Suter, Wudinna, South Australia

1st May 2026

My name is George. I live along the freeway. I would like to tell my story.

My mother migrated here from England. She missed England but made the most of it here raising us children in the wide open spaces and fresh clean air.

People were fond of my mother for she was a generous woman. Children gravitated to her for she would embrace them with heartfelt hugs.

As her son, I became devoted to helping her in the garden. She grew vegetables to feed our family and sell some for housekeeping money.

As she aged I expanded the garden. I established a market garden income to support her in her older years along with my own family.

We adored our mother for her continuous positive outlook on life.

Thank you for listening to my story.

Please publish this as you wish for Mother’s Day.

*South Eastern Freeway near Bridgewater, South Australia

2nd May 2026

My name is David. I live at the Toll Gate.

My mother raised 13 children including those of her late sister. We all grew up together. Meal times were like a party as there were so many of us.

We all had chores to ensure the household functioned. Our dear mother had a way of getting us to do our chores without using harsh words.

We grew up in a loving environment. We enjoyed playing cards after dinner. No one kept score. We simply played for the sake of playing and interacting with each other. She was always happy to have another game before bed.

Thank you for sharing my story this Mother’s Day however you please.

*Old Toll House, known as The Tollgate, South Eastern Freeway, Glen Osmond, South Australia