Elmwood School - Samara Yearbook (Ottawa, Ontario Canada)

Page 32 text:

30 S A iM A R A fasted, praying that God would send them the grace to live for another winter. No matter what he tried to do, he could think of no way to provide for his little flock. He began to ' lose faith in himself, and to think that it was his fault that his people were so miserable. Pierre was not worried at all. So long as he had his potage and his tartine every day, it did not seem to him that much could be wrong. But Annette had seen her Maman weeping in the corner of the cabin and her papa could say nothing that would comfort her. So Annette began to think. Pere Lalenient had told her that Le Bebe listened to people ' s prayers, so that afternoon instead of going out to play with Pierre, she would go up to the little church. She had her precious Rosary clasped in her hand, and she was thinking of a prayer to make, so that Le Bebe would understand how hard it was for everybody. Then perhaps He would tell Le Bon Dieu, about it, and then everything would be settled. Quiet as a mouse she crept into the little wooden church, built by such loving hands. She knelt down by one of the pillars and be- gan to pray. She heard another voice murmur- ing prayers too and peeping behind the pillar she saw the cure on his knees. This gave her courage and she told LeBebe about the trouble; how A4aman had cried and how Papa had not been able to comfort her; how the cure had prayed, and how Yvet had tried to do his best. She told him how hungry the people were and how cold. Oh please, help them. She would be very good. She would try to be in time for dejeuner and try to remem.ber to come home as soon as the sun went down behind the mountain — how pretty it was then. The snow became a beautiful gold, barred with great black shadows, and the mountains were purple; she wished that it would always stay like that — and she would tell Pierre too, and he would try — though sometimes he would not do as she asked — but she was sure he would this time — though only yesterday she had begged him not to go down by the river, and he had. She was afraid of the river now that Yvet — oh, please, Bebe, bless Yvet, look after him and love him as much as we did. Oh, please listen to her prayer, blessed Bebe, and help them! She stood up, and suddenly, a terrible thought came to her! She had not brought a single thing to give to Le Bebe in return. How ashamed she felt! She only had her Rosary. How she loved it, her Rosary, the beautiful beads, and the pretty cross, and it was her very own and yet . . . She went slowly to the cure; he stood up, when he saw her and said, What do you want, my little one? Oh, Monsieur le Cure, I have made a prayer to the Blessed Bebe and I didn ' t bring anything to give him — so I thought he would like my Rosary, it is such a pretty one! Pere Martin gave it to me when we left Quebec. See how pretty it is! Don ' t you think that per- haps He might like it, too? People said that what happened that night was a miracle. Perhaps the cure knew differ- ently. That night he had prayed, not so much for help for the town, but for such faith as he had witnessed that day. The miracle was that the tired, discouraged villagers woke up to see a bridge to the island. The ice floes in the river had jammed against the boulders and piled up, forming a natural pathway from the mainland. That night there was food enough in the little village, and warmth too. The face of the cure was like a light that night, as he gazed on the devout people, kneeling in thanks to their Lord. He had seen a miracle performed, a miracle of faith among his own people. To Annette that night, as she said her prayers by the bedside, it had been the obvious thing to happen. As she snuggled down in her cosy bed, she told herself that she knew it was going to happen. After all, It was such a pretty Rosary . Janet Chapman, V A Fry

Page 31 text:

SAMARA 29 Pierre and Annette ran about the woods and meadows playing story characters or pretend- ing to be coureurs-de-bois; sometimes Pierre would be a priest, teaching the Indians (An- nette) about Le Bebe. Pierre and Annette were not quite sure about Him; if He loved them so much, why had He gone away? Why wouldn ' t He come back again, if everybody loved Him so? It was all very puzzling even to Annette, who had begun to learn her cate- chism and could tell her prayers on the tiny Rosary that one of the Jesuits had given her. One day Annette asked Pere Lalement, Why does He stay away? Why doesn ' t He come back to live with us? I am sure no one would hurt Him now, and we would all love Him so dearly. I say my prayers to Him every night and I always ask Him to come back . I ' m sure he listens, ma petite , said Lalement softly with a faraway look in his eyes. Perhaps He will come back soon when we have made the world a better place . Now Annette understood. She had to be very good and maybe Le Bebe would return once more. And so the autumn passed. Many of the priests had gone to live in Indian villages for the winter, to teach the wild, superstitious savages about Christ. Pierre and Annette said goodbye to them cheerfully, not knowing that they would never see some of their friends again. The houses were finished and the church, too, though it had taken all the wood on the little hillside to build them. They had an impressive service at the church to cele- brate the naming of the new village. They called it St. Anne, St. Anne de Beaupre because of its beautiful surroundings. The settlers were very happy and gay, even though they had made no plans for the winter. They had no wood laid ready to burn all during the long days and nights and no food stored up to keep them. Then the first snow came; winter was very early that year. Gradually the villagers began to realize their plight. Most of the wood available had been used for building the church and log cabins. The priests had taken most of the stored-up food and in the fields by the settlement there were no trees left to burn. There were no animals to kill for food, except an occasional rabbit, which was not enough food for the settlement of busy, hungry people and the people could not venture beyond the valley because of the Indians who could not let them touch their land. Across the river there was the island, with plenty of wood on it, and probably plenty of food too. But how could they get it? The rapids were more dangerous now, filled with ice floes, and black tumbled boulders peered out between the floes. Young Yvet, the cure ' s nephew, set forth in a light canoe, in a desperate attempt to reach the island and his overturned canoe was soon tossed back to the people. The next day the cure in a trembling voice said a mass for his soul and a sad little party wended its way down the hill from the little church with nothing but despair and grief left in their hearts. They had all learned to love the little com- munity and their fellow adventurers. Would they have to pack and leave their new home? How could they go back to Quebec, after promising such glad and wonderful results for the coming summer? Even so it would be impossible to go back over the cold, snowy path to Quebec, full of danger from the savage Indians. Pierre and Annette who before had not noticed the tired anxious faces of their mother and father now knew what was wrong. Papa looked grave and did not play with them any more in the evenings. Maman tried hard to laugh and be cheerful, but it was very hard! Oh, but the winter would soon be over, Maman and Papa would find a way, and le bon cure, he would help them. He always did. Besides there was Le Bebe. He listened to everybody ' s prayers. Pere Lalement had told them so. They wished He would come back. He would cheer everybody up, and find a way out of trouble, too. Le bon cure wished he had as much faith as the children. Night and day he prayed and

Page 33 text:

SAMARA 31 Fannie Fix ' s Lovelorn Column Dear Fannie Fix: I am madly in love with a boy who is many years older than I am. His name is Hannibal and I ' m pretty sure he loves me too; only every time we go on a date, he pokes my arm and says, My dear, you are getting fatter and better looking every day . Miss Fix, I think Hannibal is a cannibal; what shall I do? Sincerely, Angela Fatcat. Ans: Dear Miss Fatcat: I suggest you try the Elmwood diet table for a month or two. Then, you lose weight, and your suspicions are right about Hannibal ' s being a cannibal, he will leave you and you will be safe. Fannie Fix. Dear Fannie Fix: I yam foorten yars old an ' secratly marrad. I yam stil livin on da far, with ma folks, but ma husbin Abner warnts me to leave hoome and traval around wit him, as he is a travaUing salesman. I dun ' t know whart t ' do, cus if Ma or Pa efer found out ah was marrad, he wood take the shot gun and shoot me and ma poor husbin full of buck shot. An if ah run away wit Abner, pappy wil git them there hound dorgs on our traile, an when he gits us . . . well, we will be plum out of luck cause dem buck shots hurt! Wat can Ah do? Rosabelly M.C.B.L.O. Marblehead. Ans: Dear Miss Marblehead: I ' d shoot them hounds and git! Fannie Fix. Francis Wood, V B Nightingale Story of a Lost Pet It was a cold winter day; and as I was walk- ing along, I could tell that the first snowfall was not far off. I did not know where to go, for I was a homeless pet. All summer my master had played with me and fed me; but when he went back to the city, he turned me out in the cold. Just like many other cats, I was looking for food on Nantucket Island which was now barren and bare. Suddenly I saw meat and without looking to see if there was any danger, I pounced on the raw chunk. In a flash a bag closed around me, and some boy picked it up and walked away with it. I could tell I was entering a barn, for the heat and the sweet smell of hay convinced me. Before I could take another breath I was shaken out of the bag; and a lot of groans followed. It was evident they were not pleased, because I was so skinny. A little girl ran into the barn and danced with delight when she saw me. She picked me up and called me a pretty kitten . I began to purr because it was the first time in a long time I had been content. One of the boys took her back to the house and in a few minutes returned with some thin ropes in his hands. He tied me up and placed the raw meat in front of me and kept tempting me with the wonderful odor. I tugged and tugged on the ropes, but I could not get free and finally after ten minutes my paws were rubbed raw, and I fell down ex- hausted eyeing the raw meat. They kept me in the barn for a few days, and on the third day the neighbors found out I was in the barn. When they saw my paws, they were horrified; but they forgot to do anything about me. In the meantime my paws were getting infected. All the time I had not had anything to eat in days and only the water to drink which leaked through the barn roof every time it rained. Later that night a storm came and broke a window; and climbing with all I had left in me, I managed to get out of the win- dow. I walked until I found a soft pile of leaves, and I flopped down and went to sleep. In the morning when I awoke, I found my- self in a soft basket with a fire snapping cheer- ily in front of me. In half an hour the Ottawa Humane Society was there; and they carried me, basket and all, and put me in a truck. In about ten minutes (it seemed like an hour to me) we drove up in front of a small building, and they took me out of the truck and carried me into the building. When the men saw me, they all pitied me and a man picked me up