Stella Cross has never had much, in terms of worldly wealth, but as she enters her 101st year, she looks back on what she regards as a rich life."Things have worked out wonderfully for me," she said.

Friends and relatives gathered at the Salvation Army Glenmore Temple on Saturday, April 1, 2006, to help celebrate the 100th birthday of a modest, cheerful woman who has dedicated most of her life to helping people.

While still a young woman, Stella joined the Salvation Army, and served for 40 years before retiring with the rank of Brigadier. It was not an easy life, on the surface, but her deep faith and cheerful disposition always seemed to smooth the path in front of her.

Stella Cross was born April 1, 1906, on her family's farm in Queens County in southern New Brunswick, the fifth of nine children. Her earliest memory, probably when she was about two years old, is of being concealed in a rhubarb patch while her family searched for her.

She had gone out to pick a piece of rhubarb, probably to chew on as a tart treat.

"I couldn't break the stalk, so I was lying on my stomach chewing on it," she said. "My father saw me and picked me up and asked why I didn't answer when I was called, but I was so busy trying to get that rhubarb."

The Crosses lived a life of self-sufficiency. The family kept a few sheep, and Stella learned at an early age to card wool, the process in which the wool is combed to a state where it can be spun. Her mother taught her to run the spinning wheel that turned the wool into yarn. That yarn was used to
make clothing.

"For Christmas, we all had new wool mittens and scarves and socks and hats," said Stella.

The family's vegetables came from the garden, in which the children worked. When her father had a little money or something to trade, he would sometimes take the family with him to the nearest general store, quite an expedition
for the children.

"If it was in the winter, we would put rocks in the oven until they were hot," Stella said. "Then my father would put hay down on the bottom of the sleigh, and put the hot rocks there. Then he would lay a buffalo rug on top of that, and we children would get in. We would get covered with another
buffalo rug, and then there was this lovely trip to the store, three miles away."

She said her mother had had a strict Scots upbringing, and insisted on a high standard of behaviour for her children.

"We weren't allowed to run on Sunday," she said, citing one example.

When Stella's youngest brother was just a toddler, their father died, leaving their mother working frantically to keep the family fed and together. Then her mother died of cancer at the age of 49, when Stella was still a teenager. She went to live with an aunt in Saint John.

That's where she saw her first movie.

"My aunt used to like Pearl White, and she didn't want to go alone, so I would go with her," said Stella.

Pearl White was the silent film star of The Perils of Pauline, a 20-part serial in which each chapter ended with the heroine in imminent danger of death at the hands of a dastardly villain.

"She would be in the water, and there'd be an alligator after her," said Stella. "The alligator would be almost upon her, and then the film would end.

"I was so worried about her, I would pray for her."

Stella put her strong, straightforward faith to work when she joined The Salvation Army and embarked on a career of selfless service.

"I did the women's social work," she said. "I worked with teenagers. I met some very wonderful people."

The Salvation Army depended on donations, and during the Depression and the subsequent war, money was scarce.

"Things were pretty poor," said Stella. "This is how poor we were -- one tube of toothpaste was put in the staff bathroom, and everyone would use that one tube.

"But the Lord looked after us."

One of the hardest things, she said, was to go to the market each day seeking donations of food so the Salvation Army could provide meals for the poor.

"I would pray all night for the courage to go say, 'Do you have something for the Salvation Army?' " she said. "When I prayed, it didn't seem so hard.

"It took courage to ask -- they were short of things, too, but they would share with us. The farmers were wonderful."

Her service brought Stella to several cities across the country, eventually to Calgary in 1949. When she retired from full-time service in her 60s, she had the option of returning to New Brunswick, but she chose to stay in
Calgary, where she found a job supervising a senior citizens' lodge, work she continued until she was 80. Even after her retirement as a supervisor,she continued to help out when needed.

Her second retirement gave her the opportunity to travel, and she has been all over the world, travelling abroad into her 90s.

"Even now, if there's a bus trip to Banff, she's on it," said her grandniece, Laura Moran.

Stella has never been seriously ill, although she had a close call in the late 1960s, when a young man jumped into the back of her car and threatened to cut her throat if she didn't take him where he wanted to go.

Her friend jumped out of the car and ran for help, as the man began choking and stabbing Stella. A nearby policeman, wondering why her car was stopped in an odd place, came back in time to grab the man, who was suffering from
drug addiction. Other police officers arrived to assist.

"The Calgary police saved my life," she said.

As she was in the hospital being treated for more than 20 stab wounds, she heard a commotion. The police explained it was her assailant, who had tried to escape by jumping through a second-storey window, and was brought to the
hospital for treatment of his cuts.

Her faith and prayers, she said, helped put the incident behind her, and her main concern was for the welfare of the young man and his family.

Though retired from active service, she has continued to volunteer with the Salvation Army, and especially loves working with Red Kettle campaign during the Christmas season. It's something she has done every year, and hopes to continue.

"I'll do it again this year, if my legs hold out," she said.

She has seen a lot of hardship and misery in a century of life, but she sets aside the negative and cherishes the happy memories, maintaining a strong faith in the basic goodness of people.

"Most people who have problems have a broken heart," she said. "A little kindness helps them so much.

"There's a lot of good in people who have made mistakes -- goodness can catch up to them."

by David Bly
Reprinted with permission from the Calgary Herald. Contact David Bly at 403-235-7550 or by e-mail: dbly@theherald.canwest.com