This is the room in which Emily was born; the actual bed is here, as well as other objects owned by the Carr family. It is here that Mrs. Carr would have spent much of her time towards the end of her life, and here too she would have died.

was born during a mid-December snow storm; the north wind howled and bit. Contrary from the start, I kept the family in suspense all day. A row of sparrows, puffed with cold, sat on the rail of the balcony outside Mother's window, bracing themselves against the danger of being blown into the drifted snow piled against the window. Icicles hung, wind moaned, I dallied. At three in the morning I sent Father plowing on foot through knee-deep snow to fetch Nurse Randal.... (Mother was)...a quiet woman - a little shy of her own children. I am glad she was not chatty, glad she did not perpetually 'dear' us as so many English mothers that we knew did with their children. If she had been noisier or quieter, more demonstrative or less loving, she would not have been just right. She was a small, grey-eyed, dark-haired woman, had pink cheeks and struggled breathing. I do not remember to have ever heard her laugh out loud, yet she was always happy and contented."

--The Book of Small By Emily Carr.

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