Bowmanville High School - Screech Owl Yearbook (Bowmanville, Ontario Canada)

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A Peculiar Visitor Miss Maple, though eighty-five averred that she felt as young as she ever had and refused to even consider her family's stubborn insistence that she behave with the dignity of a woman her age. They'd been rather upset, poor things, when they'd found her playing hop-scotch with one of the little girls next door. Miss Maple was thankful that they didn't know she'd also ridden the chi1d's bicycle. However, she was sit- ting in a cane rocker today with a blanket about her knees just to show her family that she had some consideration for their feelings. She was fervently hoping for a cool breeze, for she stifled wrapped up in the woollen blanket. As if in answer to her prayers a faint, cool current of air brushed her face. Her bright, inquisitive eyes saw, at the same moment, a tall, slender woman coming up the deserted street. Waiting until the woman was quite close, she called out to her. Hello! The woman turned, looked gravely at her for a moment then slowly mounted the steps of the verandah. Miss Maple threw off her comforter impatiently and gestured a chair to the woman, who accepted it and sat down. . Do have some tea. It's just fresh. Do you take cream or sugar? My, it's so lovely to have a visitor. You know, I've never met you before, but you're very familiar. That blue dress you're wearing is very pretty and I'm sure I remember seeing it before, too. It seems to me I remember seeing you in it when I was a child, but that's impossible, I know. Con- trary to the views of some people, I've not been a child for years. I remember seeing a woman in a blue dress walking along the beach and I do believe she was a friend of Mother's. Here, Miss Maple removed her glasses and looked keenly at her visitor. It could have been your grandmother, I dare say. The woman smiled, but shook her head, Miss Maple put her glasses back on with a sigh. Do forgive my chatter, my dear. Help yourself to some cake or cookies. My, that breeze is delicious. It's stronger now, and so fresh. My nieces and nephews would insist that I put that blasted blanket around me if they know I was out here. According to my niece Marie, a fresh breeze is a chilly draft. Are you visiting here, my dear? The woman shook her head. Coming to live? The woman smiled again and this time nodded. I'm so glad, for you'l1 be able to visit me quite often. Do forgive me for peering at you, child, but you do so remind me of that will o'wisp I saw so long ago. Ah, well, you couldn't be one, you're too solid. Will o'the wisps can't drink, after all, can they? Do you like those pink cakes of mine? It's an old recipe I found in my mother's cookbook. Don't be shy, help yourself, dear. Why, you haven't touched your tea. Is it too strong? Her visitor stood up, a gently, dreamy smile on her lips She looked carefully around her, then learned over to whisper in her hostess' ear. I've come to haunt the place, she said. Debbie Walker 13B

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3rd Prize Prose Life and Death There she was, small but not so small. She was on her feet already and only a few hours old, a filly, with four tiny hooves, and a dapple grey colour. Already I could see in her bone structure that she was going to be a big and muscular horse. Just like her mother there was a big broad chest, and shoulders, enormous hind-quarters, and strong slender legs. Good qualities for a fine hunter. She had so many qualities from her mother it was difficult to find her father's but his were there, the tiny head, small and delicate ears and her colouring. She found her mother's soft warm udder and began to suck greedily on her milk. The mother nuzzled her baby closer to her side and nickered softly. After she had finished feeding, the little one collapsed tiredly into the clean dry straw. All of this event is still quite vivid in my mind, and it seems only yesterday that she was still a baby. It's hard to believe she died last night out in the pasture after bringing another life into this world. Barbara McGuey 3C The Wonders of a Lamb Be If you were 'asked To give advice, In one word, I'm sure I'd find These answers clear. Live, I'm one of a flock, Love, Yet my master knows my name, Learn, Though often I may wander Think, His love is always the same. Give, Laugh, If I lie in green pasture, TTY- I'll learn there to trust, But I've found a word . For I can do nothing, That one word is MBE . But keep still---I must. It takes in, In the turmoil of life, As I seek for my rest, By still quiet waters, He gives me the best. Linda Ferrill 2A The way of Life, The feeling of Love, The skill of Learn, The time of Think, The treasure of Give, The joy of Laugh, The energy of Try, Now don't you agree? That the word is BE , One last thought, I wish we all could B E Brenda Moffatt 2A

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Grade Nine in' Retrospect I can still remember my first day of high school. I think it was one of the major climaxes of my life. I can recall thinking enthusiastically about that very first morning. It was the first time in my life that I actually got up early to go to school. I had been told so much about this higher institute of learning that I simply could not wait. For me, the words High School spilled over with connotations of many things beautiful. After all, when you were in high school you could wear nylons, carry one of those big binders in your arms, have a purse slung over your shoulder, go to dances, be late for school Without any serious con- sequences, change classes every forty minutes, Ca three 'minute break? talk in class without getting the strap and say things like bio , homeroom , spare and meet me at my locker . To put it bluntly, high school was IN. Of course that first day everybody had new clothes on except for a few radical grade 13'ers. Everyone piled into the auditorium. CThat was another good word? and it was just one great ball of confusion, happiness, fear, noise, laughter, screaming and observation. Of course, Mr. Wolfe calmed us down and not since that day when he started his WELCOMING speech have I heard such a spell of silence at B.H.S. The grade nine homeroom teachers were sitting at the front of the auditorium. I don't know what they were thinking, but I can imagine. I had my own special group of girl friends around me and we were all hoping and praying that we would get in the same room. When finally, we were put into our form we had to march out behind the general four homeroom teacher? like a bunch of disorderly soldiers reluctant to go to battle. Of course we all got lost intentionally and wan- dered all over the place before we found the right room and when we did, the teacher laughed because she thought it was funny and not our fault. After all, we were just 'dumb' grade pines. I remember seeing all those new faces, in my new class, with my new teacher, in a new school. While the teacher gave us a little speech of welcome twhich nobody heard? us kids were looking around the room, eyeing each other to see who was who, so we could remember and tell our friends, who had been parted from us in the auditorium. It was just so exciting. All these different kids and teachers. Just think, a different one for every subject. How could high school ever get boring. tl took that back a few weeks 1ater?. Finally when it was time to go, nobody wanted to. After all, we'd only been there for about an hour. Outside the school everybody was standing in their own little groups, anticipating the next day. That next week was full of new experiences. It was just great to have a locker of your own and you promised yourself you would never tell anybody what your combination was, not even your best friend and then promptly forgot your resolution.