Dear Folks, Now don't ask me what prompted me to remember my old Sunday School teacher Mrs. Batts this evening. I don't have a clue. But this is what I remember of her. Back around 1940 or 41 or so when I was about 9 or 10 years old and in the fourth grade, I had a Sunday School teacher by the name of Mrs. Batts. I was one of her students in the Sunday School at the First Baptist Church in Niagara Falls, NY. I listened to every word she said and I filled my little notebook with religious pictures and stories I had written about the Bible stories she taught us. I still have that notebook and it's filled with gold stars that Mrs. Batts had awarded me regarding my efforts. Frankly I was so impressed with Mrs. Batts teachings that I felt honored when she asked me and several other girls in our Sunday School class to come to her house during the week just to enjoy getting together with each other. And let me tell you, Mrs. Batts was some REAL lady! She was a widow with no children who lived in an old house on Ashland Avenue in Niagara Falls. But it was a beautiful house. In my mind now I might describe it as a Victorian house. And in it she had a wonderful organ. No not a pipe organ but close to it. She would play the most beautiful music on her organ for us and would demonstrate all of the different sounds she could make from the organ. We were always fascinated. But Mrs. Batts had other plans for us girls. She taught us to sing very interesting songs that we never had heard before. One that I recall was by the title (I think) of "Andy, My Scot's Blue Bell." It was definitely of Scottish origin and as we girls sang it together we danced the Highland Fling the way that Mrs. Batts had taught us. Another song that I really remember her teaching me was "Tying Apples on the Lilac Tree." It was the story of a boy wooing a girl who rejected him by telling him that she would love him only when apples grew on a lilac tree. You can probably figure out how the rest of that story went. But apparently what Mrs. Batts had in her mind all along was to prepare us girls to give a performance in the old folks home in Niagara Falls. And that we did. We sang and we danced and I sang "Tying Apples on the Lilac Tree" with appropriate exaggerated gestures that a nine-year-old could manage. The old folks were utterly delighted Mrs. Batts died around 1950 and when I read her obituary in the newspaper I knew that I had to go to her viewing. I did but none of her family there could understand one single bit of what I wanted to tell them about my memories of her. Mrs. Batts, I may not remember all of the words to "Tying Apples on the Lilac Tree," but I can still remeber the gestures. Such old precious memories! vee