One of the things we remember most readily about Monique is how generous she was. A few years ago, my wife Catherine, my son Kaj and I were visiting the Ishikawa family during a period when Monique was spending a lot of time in her bedroom with friends and very loud music. Kaj was just two years old then, and a little shy around people he didn't know very well. Anyway, Monique came out of her room long enough to say hello to us and invite Kaj into her room with her friends. He followed her in, and the door closed behind the two of them. From the glimpse I'd had, the room was dark, there were a few people inside, and there was that loud music. I fully expected Kaj to come right back out in tears.

A few minutes passed, and we were getting just a tiny bit concerned. What was going on in there? Was Kaj's crying being drowned out by the music? He'd met Monique before, but only briefly.

Then the door opened, and out strode one happy two year old, holding a book Monique had given him - it was her copy of a favourite childhood story - The Paper Bag Princess, by Robert Munsch. This book has remained a favourite of ours, and the way it came to us if one of the ways we'll always remember Monique.

Stephen Huddart

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