Elmwood School - Samara Yearbook (Ottawa, Ontario Canada)

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SAMARA 29 Three People I should like to meet Death! Morbid? Awful? It may be for some, but to me it presents the one and only method of meeting three men who have lived their lives before mine, and have left only written records of their deed. To you my choice may seem strange: three men whose lives have made a definite mark in history, but who were as different as day is from night— St. Francis, Hitler and Louis Pasteur. Good and Evil! These are the two great forces in our world. St. Francis, typifying the positive force, was a man of love and com- passion. To him the stars, the light, the beasts and the birds were friends and brothers whom he loved, and who loved him. He held no fear of life, only the fear and love of God, from whom he gained courage and strength. St. Francis was simplicity personified, he did not wow people to his side; he won them by his overflowing spirit of goodness and truth. On the other side we have the great force of Evil, well portrayed in a character well known, and well feared— Hitler! This man was a shell of cruelty and egoism. He was completely void of any redeeming quality of compassion or goodness which would have made a human being of him. To him, man was just a means to build his power and might. Fanatically he bore down on the people and pounded his principles into them. His methods of winning people to his side were concentra- tion camps and war! In contrast to these two personalities, very positive and very negative, I would like to add Louis Pasteur, neither a saint, nor a sinner. He is the kind of person that typifies what I strive for. Medicine, the work of his life, was his whole world, and indeed his life. He seemed to live and breathe it, not sitting back to admire his accomplishments, but ever going onward working for the better conditions of his brother and fellow man. To me, these three men represent the world we live in. The saints are few but have lasting powers that are remembered from generation to generation. The evil dictators rise with power and might but inevitably crumble and disintegrate, leaving only me- mories of hate. We, the general people, are mostly Louis Pasteurs, working to make some- thing from the life we have been given. We may not accomplish what he did, but it is the spirit of work and love that counts. This is why, for me, death would be a great adventure. To meet these three people face to face would be like looking at the world in the three separate blocks that form it— the white, the black, and the ever-present grey. Linda Chauvin, Form 6M. The Path through the Woods It begins when he is born and ends with, infinity! At the beginning the wood is thin and the trees are sparse, but as the age of the traveller increases so does the depth and darkness of the wood. It surrounds him so completely that at times he can distinguish but few of the paths of others that cross his. There are billions of paths. One for each member of the human race both past, present and future. Each path is different from the next. The wood is composed of plants from all over the earth and from all times of Man, but they are known to us. The individual paths of human beings, although sometimes irregular, conform to a larger path, that of our species. This path too has a place in the universe. There will be other species, with their smaller paths of other individuals winding through a wood with some plants, physically strange yet familiar to us, others entirely unfamiliar. Is this path the path of our universe— or is there another larger, that is the main one of our universe? And is the one of our uni- verse just a branch of a still more extensive one that is composed of the main paths of other universes, ad infinitum to eternity? Or is there a path at all? Judy Reid, Form 5C.

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28 SAMARA on that fateful October day, had such a great significance for the rest of the free world. Yes, in the end they were conquered. Many escaped, but many others stayed behind to fight and to die. We hear little about Hungary these days, but it is our duty after watching them suffer, to prove to them that we have not forgotten; the sacrifices they made were not in vain. Every man, woman and child who was killed is a tribute to a brave and courageous people. Although they were defeated, to us they remain the conquer- ors. They fought for what we take for grant- ed—Independence. Judith Brown, Form 5 A. An Education Through Travel In my opinion, a real education can be developed through travelling. Let us take Greece as our example; for it is the country I am most familiar with. Here are a few of my observations. Tell me you might say, breaking the whirring silence, Are the Greeks very dif- ferent from us? What are they like? There is no denying that the Greeks are different from ourselves. No better and no worse; just different. Their standard of values is not al- ways the same as ours. To Canadians, time is money. To Greeks, it is a dimension to be lived in leisurely, with as much profit and enjoyment as possible. This I noticed of the Greeks almost immediately upon arrival in Greece. The Canadian works at high pitch straight through his business day. The Greek breaks his with an afternoon siesta, opens his office or store again later in the day, believing he does more work this way. But, in fact, he is only lightly putting things off till AVRIO —tomorrow. Another thing which can easily be ob- served on any Greek street or home is the great difference in greeting. For example, a Canadian greets his friends with a brief Hi . Greeks stop to kiss on both cheeks and to inquire about the health of each other ' s house- holds. The Canadian business man asks a visitor to his office, What can I do for you? The Greek asks How do you take your coffee? Greek men tip their hats to each other and both sexes rise when a person senior to those present enters. The attitude of the well-bred Canadian and the well-bred Greek towards women is approximately the same. The Canadian turns his newspaper to the sports or financial page first. The Greek reads the political news first on his practically ad- less paper. The Canadian knows the fine point of difference between automobile makes and discusses the standings of baseball or football teams. The Greek can explain the platforms of the numerous political parties of his coun- try and knows the background of important political leaders past and present, Greek and foreign. Greeks live a two-legged existence as com- pared with Canadians who have definitely taken to wheels. If they are not walking or working, they sit around little cafe tables or sidewalks, in alley and arcades, in public squares and parks, along the shore, under trees on a hillside. They are also, like the Canadian, a singing people. They sing at work and at play, in taverns, on the march, riding in cars, buses or boats. Young people sing on their way home from gatherings; strollers sing going through the streets as they strum their guitars. The educated Greek is an insatiable read- er. He devours books in a wide range of subjects, frequently re-reading the classics of his own language in modern translation, re- maining aware of all the latest developments in all branches of learning through foreign language periodicals and books. The Canadian is letting Television take up most of his read- ing time. Foreigners may discuss their favorite authors intelligently with almost any literate Greek. And so I could go on endlessly comparing people and their different ways of living. Now tell me, do you think my observations helped in giving me a real education through travel? Efi Malamaki, 6 Matric.

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30 SAMARA The Man with one eye My head was spinning violently, and the mumble-jumble sound from the over-crowded room was not helping matters. It was a miserable mid-afternoon for me. A kind of day where I tried to escape the inward feeling that was fighting me. My— but it was odd! But was not that the way life was? Everything seemed to be untouchable! Everything but this one object ... .It was there, and I could not leave it alone. I tried .... Oh! .... how I tried! .... but there seemed to be no solution for this overpower- ing subject. I did not know whether to laugh or cry. The sight of my stricken eyes expressed my emotion to anyone who was interested. But why worry?— I was only a fish lost at sea. The vividness fought me until my nerves were twiiching with fright, and my body froze. The tears were streaming down my pallid face, and I knew my soul would not rest in peace, unless I brought my problem to a conclusion. Colours were beginning to mingle— all except that one blur. What was it?— All twirled in together making me feel I wanted to scream. The haze was beginning to clear now, and my imagination was working— so much so that my body trembled. Something was there, but I could not grasp it enough to satisfy myself. Then the painting took its place. Why of course— it was a modern picture of a man with one eye. With my mind at rest, the crowd ' s chatter did not seem so harsh. I could understand their feelings, and I could not hel p wonder- ing if that morbid painting had roused them, as it had me. Alexis Thoman, Form 5A. Little Brothers Only someone who has lived with little brothers knows of the trials and tribulations I go through trying (vainly, I might add!) to understand mine! Perhaps if I introduce them to you it will be easier for you to understand my complete bewilderment. Robby is my blond, blue-eyed, eight-year- old brother, who would truthfully be much happier if I hadn ' t been born, or if I had to be born I should ' a been born ten years earlier and much easier to punch in the nose . Robby has an amazing ability to disappear and com- pletely forget the time, both of which he does when I am in charge of his whereabouts. On returning one hour and a half late one night, his simple explanation was that the plane he had gone for a ri de in did not have a phone, and I shoulda guessed where he was! (Actually he was in a plane with the father of one of his friends!) Robby ' s bed- time, being seven-thirty, always presents a problem, as his watch never fails to stop (for some unknown reason (?)) at seven o ' clock on the button! Even more bewildering to me is my four- year old brother, Brian. Being blond, brown- eyed and completely angehc-looking helps him to twist me completely around his little finger until he has exactly what I have just pointed out I would rather he did not have. Brian (or so he tells me) is an expert cook, painter (especially painter), housewife and grade twelve student (at this moment he is helping me write this Composition). My patience wears extremely thin after a session of persuading him that food is to eat (a very hard thing for him to understand) not to make castles and roads in or to bounce on the floor. Another unnecessary habit of grown- ups that a four-year-old certainly doesn ' t need is sleep. Just because you can ' t keep your eyes open, or walk in a straight line, is no reason why you should sleep (although once in bed it does not take much convin- cijug! ) Despite all the trials and disagreements I know that I would be at a loss without Robby and Bri n, and I feel very sorry for anyone who does not have a little brother or sister in his family— even if he is ajittle terror!! Judy Toller, Form 6M.