She was always the Cornflower Girl, sitting on my mother’s mantel. Made in Canada, a working class woman’s precious memory of younger days, the late 1930’s or 40’s. The Cornflower Girl, a southern belle or a French Queen playing at being a milk-maid ? The Cornflower Girl, what is her secret ?
The Cornflower Girl is that her name ? I seem to recall my mother’s voice, something about corn flour. Was that the secret past, a product endorsement ? A give-a-way ? A prize from the Toronto CNE ? She stands amongst other memories dimly remembered, in a curio cabinet in our hall. My heart gently aches at the sight of one who has always been there, the Cornflower Girl.