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years, the family Lived in a log house in Keno. Because of the terrain, Dr. Stainsby was obliged to visit many of his patients by plane. The staff of the hospital consisted of one nurse and a matron and from time to time, Doris was called upon to assist with surgeries. With the expiry of the contract in August 1930, the family returned to West Vancouver and the home on Marine Drive which had been rented out during their absence. The promise of better days lay ahead of them .......... School Health Officer, a sleek cabin cruiser, a spiffy Terraplane sedan, friendships and leisure time for the doctor's special hobbies of photography and painting. But it all came to an abrupt end on the night of Nov. 8th, 1934, when Dr. Stainsby suffered a fatal heart attack. He was 51 years old. Newspapers of the day extolled the virtues of the late doctor. "West Vancouver has suffered a very heavy loss and there are few in the municipality even now who do not realize it. Last week with startling suddeness a chair became vacant in our midst which it will be difficult to fill. The deceased was very much the old fashioned family doctor and it was this that so endeared him to the hearts of the community. The alleviation of suffering was always his first and last thought, and in the fulfilment (sic) of that mission he pursued his quiet way, never sparing himself night or day. Naturally the tale of his years has been comparatively short. It would hardly have been otherwise . But, if to have won in those few years the love and respect of the community in whose service he broke down his health is the truer measure, as of course it is, then his life was indeed a full one." One of the Stainsby babies thought so too and put forth his name to the 75th Anniversary Committee as a nominee for a 75 Achiever Award. (People were invited to submit for community recognition the names of West Vancouverites who had achieved distinction for their particular field of endeavor. Both living and deceased persons were eligible). He didn't make the list. V --A I'm sure that most of you are familiar with the "Yes, Virginia, there really is a Santa Claus" story? It resurfaces regularly at this time of the year and lifts our jaded spirits out of the morass of newspaper and television commercialism. Well, in a way, we had our own 'Virginia' in Audrey Luke away back in 1932 when the following little gem appeared in the Pauline Johnson School December newsletter, Vol. 1, No. 2. Audrey called her story "The Unseen Playmate" and this is what she wrote. "There was once a little girl who was very poor. Her mother was always out earning money to buy their food, while she washed the floors. One day she heard a tap on the door. She ran to open it, thinking it was her mother but it was a little girl. She said it was Christmas Day and she had come to give her some toys and things. Then she gave her five hundred dollars. "Oh!" she exclaimed, "now we are rich". They were kind to all people and especially the poor. She grew old still being kind to others. She left six hundred and twelve dollars before she died and everyone was happy." Thank you Audrey (Luke) Whyte (now of Sydney, Vancouver Island and one of the Society's out-of-town members) for the sheer sweetness and naivete of your long ago story, but one question. Can you give us the name of her broker?