Selma Fleming bakes great piroshkis!

“Oh yes,” she says, “I’m a great believer in prayer.” She tells how God healed her of epilepsy more than 30 years ago. She exudes health, vitality, energy, and – most of all – joy. Her voice is stronger and more vibrant than some women half her age.

She is 93 (“94 this August”) and came to the attention of B.C. conference convention delegates in May as the lady who brought in 60 fresh-baked piroshkis for “the guests.”

“I just love to bake,” says Selma Fleming. “I’m so grateful to God for his goodness and for allowing me to enjoy what I do.” She bakes regularly. She bakes generously. She usually gives away seven of the eight delicious multi-grain loaves of bread she makes in a normal-sized batch.

Sometimes people leave a sack of flour or sugar outside her door – whether as a thank you, or to encourage further baking, she doesn’t know. Neighbours also bring vegetables for her homemade soups.

“God is so good,” she says.

Selma knows about God’s miracles. She used to suffer epileptic seizures and had to be medicated constantly. “I was always feeling doped up. I only did things if I had to.”

One day, at home alone, she had another seizure. She prayed, “God, if you want me to go on being weak and sickly, then all right,” she prayed. “But if that’s not what you want, please take this away!” She hasn’t had a seizure since.

Selma Fleming came from Russia to Acme, Alta. at age 12. She said her family got off the train at harvest time, met by “bearded Mennonites” looking for workers. An old bachelor took them in, saying there was lots of room for her parents and their five children. (Later, the family grew to 12 children.)

The bachelor’s “lots of room” turned out to be just one small upstairs room and a lean-to. But they made it work. Selma grew up knowing the meaning of hard work and doing things together.

She and her husband and children worked, as a family, as custodians at East Chilliwack School for 18 years following their move to B.C. Those duties included feeding the school’s old coal-stoker furnace every four hours, especially in the snowdrifts and bitter winds of mid-winter. Then came “the union,” and the family had to give up its joint enterprise in the school.

Today, she lives simply and comfortably on her pension in a condo. Its deck looks towards Chilliwack Hospital, where her husband died 16 years ago. “He was a wonderful man – a great husband and a wonderful father to our children,” she says.

She has joy in her children. Her four daughters and son phone each day. She dotes on her grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

Her piroshkis are wonderful. The pastry is light (“I always put a pinch of baking powder in, so I don’t need so much fat”). She usually makes them the length of her cookie sheet, but at times, when cooking for a group, she goes longer than that.

“I call it pie by the yard,” she says, and offers more coffee while we talk.