Trinity College School - Record Yearbook (Port Hope, Ontario Canada)

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Images Images flowing through my mind The music a distant background To my memories Filling me with wonder, Then abruptly the music stops And the spaceship of my memories Quickly descends Only to be launched again, When the music plays another time. homeowner poet yesterday it rained i walked on the wet leaves of September’s glory dancing colours dead underfoot soon forgotten, until Sunday, burning ditches hold the celebration of the season missing the football game and leaning on a rake 9 Art

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Gail Since I was a small child my parents always told me that when I grew up I would find someone to love and take care of. Well, my years of waiting end- ed in September, and our relationship has been growing ever since. The mo- ment I saw her I knew she was for me and to make her mine was easy. After all, $6.99 is a small price to pay for love. Gail is a Fatshedera, or in laymen’s terms (Don’t ever mention this word in front of her), a plant. When I first saw he r I could feel her calling out to me. She looked weak and wilted, but I knew all she needed was love (and a little water every other day). When I saw her she was drooping badly and, after a quick visit to the library for a little information about her, I soon discovered the root of the problem stemmed from her not being able to grow upright with- out support after a certain height. Two thin bamboo poles solved the problem easily and she has been thriving ever since. Through Gail I’ve come to respect, not only herself, but all plant life. I shudder every time I see a person abuse a plant by not watering or caring for it. A book published by a respected scientist told of his experiments with plant life. He proved (or thought he did) that plants truly do have feelings. He hooked up electrodes to various plants and watched their reactions. One experiment he did was to have two plants in a room and have a person walk in and bum one of them. The reading of the other plant started going wild. When the plant was destroyed and the man left, the reading slowly went back to normal. Within the next few hours many different people went in and out of the room without the plant responding, but when the man who burnt the first plant walked in, the plant’s reading started up again. He showed in his book, which was called “The Secret Life of Plants”, that plants have a memory, some sense of what’s going on around them, fear of fire, and can even read your mind. This all seems hard to believe. But why do you think people talk to their plants without thinking they get some response? An article I read once suggested that instead of talking kindly to your plants, you should verbally abuse your plants and at times even take a chair to your trees or give them no water. If you hurt one of your plants too badly you can always employ the services of one of the many plant doctors around (They do make house calls!) and he might advise buying some of the various plant foods and vitamins on the mar- ket today. You could even buy recorded music that plants like best. I think plants have lived long enough as second-class citizens, and it’s about time they received a little respect and care from the human race, or we just might have what John Wyndman describes in his book “The Dav of the Triffids.”

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A Character Repent! Repent and God shall forgive your sins! Most of us have heard these words either from par- ents, our representatives from the church, or perhaps from one of the television preachers such as Billy Graham. I heard it from my roommate. For a good part of last year I endured an adjuration on the benefits of leading a good, Christian life. While being bombasted by his ideas about religion I took the position of being an athiest, saying that all he said was just foolish, archaic quibble. He soon realized that he was not going to convert me to his way of thinking by a fiery, oratorial approach. So, instead, every time I expressed a depressing thought such as, “What’s the use?” (referring to life in general), he would pounce on me with, “to serve God and his kingdom.” He soon gave this up after a few snide remarks from me about what he could do with his kingdom. Later in the year we entered into some heated discussions on the subject of religion, he taking the po- sition of the staunch ecclesiastic and I, of the athiest. These discussions were often one-sided as he knew a great deal more about what he was talking about than I did. When cornered on a particular point I could fall back on arguments such as, “If God really cares about us why does he let thousands starve to death?” These arguments can be successfully rebuked by anyone who knows the basics of Christian doctrine, but he never did. Perhaps he realized that he had me cornered and that I was defending my- self with irrelevant arguments. There was one point that I always pressed him with, knowing that he didn’t have an answer to it. The point was the existence of other religions. “How”, I asked him, “can you maintain that Christianity is THE true concept of God and divinity when over three-quarters of the world’s population believe dif- ferently?” He never had an answer to that, but his unshakable faith in what he believed left me some- what perplexed. He knew exactly what his purpose in life was. He knew what his reward for leading a good life would be, and what his punishments were for diver- ging from the right path. I had none of these convictions. I have often thought about the purpose of life. Short of defining it biologically I am at a loss to give one. He knew what the purpose of the human race was. Though I can find causes for the human race and can postulate on its future I can find no purpose. He knew what he wanted and expected from life. To me, my future life is a vast abyss. I am in the centre, not knowing where to go or what to do. It honestly frightens me at times. I often thought, “This guy is not connected with the real world”. Now I realize, however, that he was connected with it by a far stronger bond than I am. I picture myself as floating along, taking what comes, turning or falling in any direction as if connected by a loose cable. I see him going straight through this collage of events with a definite path and purpose as though he had hold of a rigid steel rod. I often thought that perhaps he was upholding someone else’s beliefs. But most people who hold someone else’s beliefs will falter when forced to explain the intricacies and extrapolations of these be- liefs. My roommate never faltered. He held steadfast to his beliefs and defended them as any person of genuine faith can. I looked upon him as a disturbed character because he was a very unsociable character. But he had the unique ability to enjoy himself immensely, by himself. He would return from a walk or a bird watching stint, feeling very happy. I only go on walks to indulge in introspection. I usually return de- I pressed, unless I have resolved a particular internal conflict. If he went on walks for the purpose of in- trospection he must have been happy with what he saw in himself. For that, I envy him. How did he look upon me? He saw me at the worst period of my life. That is when one can see the most in a person (in my opinion). I was depressed and very unhappy. I let my schoolwork slip. I hardly stu- died at all for the Christmas exams, yet I put up a front of cheerfulness. I pretended to be at home and comfortable at school. I believe he saw through this for he told me that the school is not meant to re- place your home. It may not be comfortable, but as long as you can make some concessions and compro- mises to a more regimented way of life, you will manage. I returned from the holidays in a much better frame of mind. My marks improved and the situation improved enough for me that I chose to return this Fall. He chose not to for reasons unknown to me. I don’t believe that I will ever see him again but I can-