In everyones’ life from time to time an interesting character appears, and you are left wondering what you ever did before you knew the person. In my case it was a Licensed Practical Nurse, named Cheryl P. Now Cheryl P. Was called that because on our unit we had three or four Cheryls and in order to differentiate as to who was whom we used the first letter of their last name. And it stayed that way, Cheryl P was and is unique, warm, kind, works hard, causes many a good laugh with her outspoken attitude and love of life and she is adored by her circle of family and friends. There will never be a dull second if Cheryl is in the area. She lives in a big farm house outside of Windsor, NS, runs the household, the orchard, the cattle, a dog she loves dearly and a pussy cat that loves her dearly. Since her father died she has worked long hours to keep the farm and apple orchards going, and the cattle fed. She held a full time job as a LPN, nursed her father at home when he was dying, and in the middle of that mind-boggling state of affairs she was fighting a life threatening illness herself with a brave front always. She never missed a beat, and never complained.

But Cheryl P. is known most of all for her very resourceful ways and her ability to save a penny. Money will never be wasted with Cheryl around. She has been known to move every stick of furniture in the staff lounge to recover a penny. She buys good things, gives great gifts, but you may be assured that she will find a bargain, get the best buy and put her money to the most efficient use. Some of her escapades to save money have caused uproars, but it doesn’t bother Cheryl P.-she knows she has won and will win again.

Now, Cheryl has the most beautiful and elegant fur jacket you ever saw. One of her gifts to herself, probably when she was so ill. I don’t know why she chose to buy a fur, but it is a divine piece of clothing. When she goes somewhere special in wintertime, she wears her fur and she looks like perfection personified when she arrives at her evening social gathering, wherever or whatever it may be.

A few years ago Cheryl decided to start into the recycling, a program that was gathering considerable momentum in Nova Scotia. She had assessed the situation and realized that there was money practically being thrown in the garbage. Well, sir, she put a stop to that. We had containers for bottles, for cans, for newspapers and all sorts of recyclables. Cheryl decided the staff fund could use a boosting and this money would do it. She started collecting newspapers, day after day, patients’ newspapers, staff members’ papers, anything that fit the recyclers guidelines, she collected. It was hard work, dragging all this paper around. The reader would hardly be finished the paper when Cheryl would appear out of nowhere and remind the person to save the paper. Everyone obliged because we didn’t want the bother of it, and the misery of dragging all this paper around, but Cheryl was undaunted and she collected until the trunk of her big car could not hold one more sheet of paper.

Well, the day finally came to turn in the paper. The trip to the depot was to be on her day off. It turned out to be a cold, raw , winter day, and Cheryl was anticipating the mitt full of money with great glee. She dressed in her best clothes for the luncheon she was attending, complete with her fur coat, and would stop at the recyclers on the way to the luncheon.

The man at the depot helped her unload the newspapers, then proceeded to weigh them. Cheryl stood with him as they weighed all the bundles of papers, right to the last few little bundles. Then the man turned to her and said, "Yeah, very good load.135 pounds’ ya got there!" And of course by now Cheryl was beaming. But the beam abruptly ended when the same man, cigarette hanging off his lip said "Yep, I owe you one dollar and thirty-five cents!"

The hands went on the hips and Cheryl took the warriors' stance. "Well," she said loudly, "I dragged all this in here for a measly one dollar and thirty-five cents, You must be kidding!"

"Nope," he says squinting through his cigarette smoke and proceeding to roll another one, "we pay one cent a pound for this stuff. That’s it!"

"Tell me this is a joke," Cheryl said, very abrasive by this time, especially as she was trying to get out of the way of his smoke cloud.

"Nope," He said, "that’s it ma’am!"

Then he proceeded to look at Cheryl, appraised her fully, squinted again over his smoke and his tilted cap, and said, "Well, you have some nerve to come in here and argue with me over a few lousy cents when you can afford to wear a coat like that. I don’t believe you lady!"

The gloves were off by now. That did it. "Sir, yes, I will argue with you and anybody else I want to. And it is because I argue over the ‘few cents’ as you say, that I can afford to wear a coat like this!" Cheryl bristled with indignation!

She wrapped her lovely fur coat around her against the cold wind, and marched swiftly to her late model car. Her head held high and her one dollar and thirty-five cents clutched in her hand, leaving in her wake a very perplexed recycling depot employee scratching his head and wondering what just happened to him as he stood beside one hundred and thirty-five pounds of newsprint. He was totally confused!

But the problem was, you see, he did not know the tenacity of our Cheryl P., but he does now!

And Cheryl P. still collects the papers, bottles, and cans, and still wears her fur coat! And all because she watches her pennies she says!

Now, isn’t that an interesting character and wonderful friend to have in your life? I sure think so! And by the way, save me your newspaper, I hear there is a fur coat sale on in St.John’s!!

Bonnie Jarvis-Lowe,RN.Ret'd.