Alma College - Almafilian Yearbook (St Thomas, Ontario Canada)

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tribute to fp aria C a ef a no our ( entenniat S tuaent front y rnaota. POEM TO MARIA Sixty-seven was a special year For Canadians everywhere, But Centennial was to everyone here, A time to love and share. In distant climes beyond our sight. The woods of Angola Breathe black terror in the night. As men strive for freedom. And from this long embattled land, Maria came to Alma Across all language bars, a hand Reached out to us. Together along the Christian road. Shoulder touching shoulder. We have longed to bear your load. And help you on your way. In every task and every trial. In every single moment, Maria greets us with a smile Full of faith and courage. Throughout the school in room or hall. Class or gym or Cave, Her cheerful laugh rings out for all. Spreading joy to everyone. Maria really has it made When it comes to Math; We hear that in her class she ' s stayed Right up at the top. She sang in chapel her native song. With simple haunting beauty; Memories will remain for long Of Maria ' s Silent Night . And now it seems that all too soon. Before we really know it. The years have flown, and here it ' s June With summer just ahead. When many of us finally return, Early in September, You will go ahead to learn The ways of modern Science. We wish you best of luck to-day. For future enterprise. We II think of you when you ' re away. Hoping that you ' ll visit. Anne Tayler 46

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in Glasgow and Edinburgh but In the Highlands the threat was worse. Who would plow the fields, shep- herd the animals and forage if the young men were gone? For a lonely widow the prospects were bleak. The boy ' s turn had come, that was certain. However, his Mother was going to prevent his being taken as long as she could, if not thwart the English entirely. Her son burst into the cottage, his eyes wild and scared, his breathing laboured and jerky. His mother shook him and explained a plan she had for- mulated. She said he must go and hide in the uppermost hay loft of the barn. Under no circumstances could he come out or make a sound. She would call to him in Gaelic when it was safe for him to come out. She gave him a shove out of the door and called in Gaelic, Are ye all right? The answer came back low and frightened, Ay . She turned her back on the barn, re-entered the croft and waited for the English to arrive. She did not have long to wait. In a few minutes a rap came at the door and she opened it to face a tall imposing man in the uniform of a British soldier. Behind him she could see numerous other men all dressed in the same way. None smiled, none moved, none looked at the beautiful scenery, the rolling hills, going up to the snow-capped mountain, the rushing burns that pelted down out of the hillside or the blue- grey of the loch behind the croft. They stood like statues, grey, unfeeling and invincible. Only the leader seemed to betray any human characteris- tics. Where is your son? he said in English. The woman replied in English also. He is awa ' up the brae an ' I dinna ken when he ' ll be back . Then you don ' t mind if we search? For a second the woman ' s heart went cold. No, I dinna mind , she said. She stood by as the men examined every inch of the cottage, from the peat box to the slate roof. Outside they examined all the small outbuildings and then proceeded toward the barn. A cold hand gripped the Mother ' s heart. They searched the ground floor thoroughly and went toward the lad- der leading up to the loft. There ' s nothing up there but hay , she said, Ye can look if ye want, but ye ' ll no find him up there . The commander gave her a long cool stare which she returned with every ounce of will power she had. At last he spoke, Come on, men. It is evident that no one ' s here. We have pestered this poor woman enough . The soldiers grouped themselves outside the barn and waited for their leader. He joined them and started to lead them off down the glen. As he turned to look back at the croft he heard the woman shouting to him in Gaelic. In reality the mother was directing this to her son in the barn. Bide a wee minute longer, bairn, the dirty brutes are going noo . The commander turned and called back to her, also in Gaelic, Ye can tell him to come out now. The dirty brutes are gone . Q SD C 5::S) 45

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■«m F. WRIGHT M.B. BEACOCK M, MILLS L. KELLY nk you ' re smart don t you. 1 wonder why they are pointing that funny box at me. 1 wish they would let nr my beauty sleep. e have It just can ' t be ' |K V F. BAIRD think I ' m allergic to tun. P. GIBSON D. TROLLOPE S. HARTWICK It ' s too bad! Mom, is the bathroom empty yet! It does wonders for my dry skit J. BINKLEY Ah, you ' re joshing. L. IVIUCKLE Yes, bleaches anything Folks. P. NORTHRUP Hey, Dagwood how about ; sandwich? M. FOWLER Let ' s think this out rationally.