Millicent Viola Wright: Cake decorator. Neighbour. Sunday school teacher. Grandmother. Born July 9, 1951, in Toronto; died April 20, 2025, in Saskatoon, of cancer; aged 73.
Millicent Viola Wright.Courtesy of family
When she was born in 1951, the story goes that Millie’s aunt walked into Toronto Children’s Hospital and declared, “I’m here to see my little Millie!” − and that’s how Millicent Cross got her name.
However she came by it, for all who knew her, “Millie” was synonymous with joy. It was simply her way of being in the world.
In the 1950s her mother, Ruby, took cake decorating classes. Young Millie went along and got a taste for icing. She liked it so much that when, at the age of 3, she discovered 200 jonquils meticulously handcrafted by her mother drying on a plate – she ate them all.
At 5, she moved with her parents and two older siblings from Toronto to her grandparents’ farm 19 kilometres south of Aneroid, Sask. Then the family moved to Moose Jaw, where in high school she met Bill Wright, and they hit it off. They married in August, 1971 and two days later packed all their possessions into Bill’s blue Chevy (covered with “Just Married” in white shoe polish) and drove to Vancouver where he attended school.
Bill’s first job meant a move to Wynyard, Sask., and this is where Millie began to take root and blossom. They adopted son Glenon and (following a move to Saskatoon in 1986) daughter Jerilee.
Millie started decorating cakes, worked at a school for children with challenges and began what would be 40 years of teaching Sunday School at a succession of churches. Her cakes were known and sought after. It was not uncommon for her to stay up until dawn perfecting a commission. If you were nearby while she worked on her art, Millie would make an exquisite rose out of icing right on your fingertip.
Drawn to the area’s lakes, the family embarked on a lifetime of camping and water-skiing. They became involved with the Kinsmen and Kinettes charitable organization and Telemiracle telethon.
Millie had a passion for cleanliness. “When she was baking and she would make a bit of a mess, she’d have to stop and clean it all up. As a result, the kitchen got cleaned probably a dozen times,” Bill recalls. “We’d get supper ready and get it on the table and she had to stop and clean all the counters before she’d come and sit down. I don’t think she had a warm meal for 50 years – unless we went out someplace!”
Millie ended every phone call with “Give each other a hug.” She shovelled the driveways of her neighbours (and their neighbours), and routinely took orphaned fledglings under her wing, feeding them water with an eyedropper, teaching them to fly and weeping if they died.
Millie had a mischievous side, too. One Christmas, her brother Dave was recuperating in hospital in Saskatoon but he wanted to be with family. She helped him “escape.” In dark, wintry, conditions she drove him 645 kilometres north, then, in the -40 C weather, pulled him on a sled behind a snowmobile for 11 kilometres to the family’s log cabin.
Millie was renowned for her happy-face cookies – mounted on a Popsicle stick and colourfully decorated. Zigzagging across the Prairie, she attended the sports games of her great-nephews and many of their practices. At games, she would distribute cookies not just to her family, but to every player on the field – on both teams.
When she fought and won against breast cancer a decade ago, her faith played a large part in her healing. She endured chemotherapy, surgery and radiation with her trademark positivity and coped by continuing to put her care and concern for others first. She loved writing greeting cards, ebulliently filling every available blank space with positive thoughts, encouraging verses and remembrances catered to each recipient.
When her health deteriorated and a new cancer was confirmed in 2023, she continued treatments but also accepted that what might be, would be. This year also brought one of her greatest joys – her first grandchild, Rhain.
The night before she died, Millie’s daughter crept into her hospital room to check on her, expecting to find her asleep. To her surprise, Millie was still awake, smiling. “Mom, you look so happy!” she exclaimed. “That’s because I am so happy,” Millie replied.
She died on Easter Sunday, surrounded by her closest family. Encircling her, they held her hands and sang.
Joanne Will is one of Millie Wright’s nieces.
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