When my sisters and I were children, our birthday cakes were always served on a special plate, reserved for just that purpose. It depicts a scene of ducks flying over marshland, against a cloudy sky, with the various parts of the picture raised and contoured. As it also has plate-hook holes on the reverse side, I don’t think it was ever meant to be used for food. Perhaps it was the most appropriate-sized plate our mother had available and was special simply because it was only used for these festive occasions.

Our birthday cakes contained little treasures, usually small-denomination coins, wrapped in waxed paper.  If it was a layer cake, they would be nestled in the filling, but if it was a tall cake like a chiffon, Mum would slip a knife into the side of the cake before icing it and insert the coins at appropriate intervals so that most people would receive one. Hopefully, the birthday girl got the best coin! To that end, I think the picture plate helped with remembering where the treats were placed. I remember instructions like, “No, start cutting just here,”  with the plate facing the server.

Mum told me this plate was a wedding gift from William and Gwen Nutter, the parents of Alex Nutter. Alex, who was just six months older than Mum, had been her sweetheart before the war. He served on the destroyer, H.M.S. Jupiter, as an ordinary seaman in the Royal Canadian Naval Volunteer Reserve and was killed on active-duty 25 January 1941. His name appears on panel 8 of the majestic Halifax Memorial, which honours over 3000 Canadians buried at sea and also on page 40 of the Second World War Book of Remembrance, which is displayed in the Memorial Chamber of the Peace Tower.

The plate itself is displayed in my dining room, serving as my own small memorial of Alex, and our young mother’s grief, but it is also a reminder of prairie sloughs and the delight of hearing returning waterfowl and the hope that springs anew each year, and of course, of many happy birthdays past.

Tags: Borrowman, memorabilia