Collingwood District Collegiate Institute - Gleaner Yearbook (Collingwood, Ontario Canada)

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NY CHOICE Have you ever been asked the question, Nwhich season of the year, do you prefer?H If so did you have to ponder the question in your mind for a while? It is really a question which should not be answered without some serious thought, because when we take each season separately and measure its qualities, each in its own way abounds with beauty and wonder beyond belief. Spring, when every tree and flower seems to just burst into life from a long, refreshing slumberg Summer, with her warm sunshine providing joy for young and old, Autumn, rich with wondrous colours, and Winter - this is my choice - ah, yes, winter, when this big wide, wonderful earth is covered with a blanket of white, and every flower and shrub disappears from view, having been once more tucked in for a cozy nap. when I awoke the other morning and gazed out the window, the exquisite scene that was before my eyes made me just stop and utter a prayer of thanks to our Maker, for providing such a beautiful world for us to live in. Everything was covered with a fluffy coating of white down, which seemed to sparkle and dance as the sun shone majestically on it from out of the blue sky above. The ever- greens were looking quite elegant, as if they were ready to go off to some special occasion, in their dress of soft white. All the fence posts were capped, and the world looked so fresh and neat, just like a child after a fond mother has scrubbed him until he is spotless and nearly shines. It seemed almost a sin that this lovely scene would soon be marred in different ways by man, as he went about his many tasks. Yet, do we really appreciate all this that has been provided for us, too busy, rushing here and there to notice the beauty of the world? The next time you are hurrying down the street, instead of wondering going to arrive at your destination on time, look right after you just pause a moment, take a look around you, and see if you, too,are sed and thankful that you live in such a beautiful and scenic world? By: Gail McLean XB First in Lower School Essay. The Metis He loved to feel his paddle surge against the rapids roar, To feel the r1ver's spume and spray against his weathered cheek, To guide his craft to safety where the screaming eagles soar, And the hidden forest trails of red men seek. His arm was brawng his eye was clear - as water from a spring, And when the steering oar was in his hand it seemed a living thing, So true it kept the hidden rocks and snags afar-- But now those days are distant as the ghostly evening star. To-day he sits with beard as white Outside the trading those who some And wonder if a man skilfully as he Canoed his winter's wizened as snow post to and go, is left load of OI' are we if you are do arrive, not impres- face and muse on who fur to the country near the sea. No longer can he race with death on every rapid, shoot and falls, N0 longer does he leave the town when the friendly forest His limbs that once w re hard are withered like a leaf. All that's left to do is wait in memories and peace. calls. as iron the end Byz- Rosemary Ruppert XIB First in Upper School Poetry ll-

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The years rolled by now with Ruth establishing.himself as one of the greatest ' 0 TC. The Babe Ruth Story ln September l9h8 death struck a great national figure innthe persfn O: Geirre Herman Ruth affectionately known to all sports lovers as :ale Ruta . lor .nree -ast years his illness was a worry to all who loved him. For a time before his serious attack he rallied and made a few brief public appearances, bu? K9 WHS H fn' pallid ghost of his former self and although fighting valiantly until the final onslaught came, the great heart stopped forever. Babe Ruth was a hungry, wistful, kid in 1906, when Brother Matthias, the teacher priest from St. Mary's Industrial School,induced his father to let him have the boy at the school. By the time seven years had rolled around he had grown up proficient in the tailors' trade which St. Mary's rad taught him, although never really happy without a baseball in his hand. When the Christmas snows of 1913 lay white in the back yards of Baltimore, Brother Matthias said to him uBy next spring you will be working outside and I will miss you.H The boy answered softly, uSt. Mary's has been good to me and so have you Brother Matthiasg you sure make a fellow feel a lot better than he really is.n quiet In the Brother's study waited Jack Dunn, manager of the Baltimore Orioles who had looked Babe over that previous summer and liked what he saw. So that spring of 1913 Babe was an oriole. By the end of the season he was a green rookie no longer. He had defeated Connie Mack's world Athletic Champion and led all International League Pitchers. Back in Boston he was riding the crest. The boys on the team called him nFancy Dann, because of his silk shirts and flannels but Brother Matthias was not worried over the boys lack of modesty for he knew under the big, bulky, flashy, exterior George had a heart and there was not one kid at St. Mary's to whom he would not have given his last silk shirt. Then Brother Matthias heard different newsg nRuthn had been taken from the pitcher's mound and turned in a great performance in left field. He had hit the longest home run in the history of baseball, a six-hundred foot blow. Then came the world's Series scandal when a few players of the Chicago white sox confessed to throwing the Serieswvith Cincinatti. The cleanest sport in history had disgraced itself. It seemed as though baseball was to be finished, but this did not affect Babe Ruth for he went on hitting home runs ending the season with fifty-nine. Wrigley Field Chicago, was the town of a new day for the great hitter. Before the game Babe had gone to see a dying boy Johnny Jackson, whose father had telephoned begging him for an autographed ball for his son. Before he left he said nJohnnyH, I'll sock a home run in centre bleachers for you, that's a promisen. with two strikes on him in the last inning he pointed to a flag-pole. Amid the uproar of booing came the crack of the bat, a home run for Johnny Jackson. attractions in baseball. May 25th, 1935 was the day he turned in shoes for the last time, a day written in black letters for baseball. has gone but to millions of kids and grown-ups alike his spirit still On his death-bed he said, nBrother Matthias, arn't kids a know people should always be more like Kid s.u Truly he Command, nSuffer the little children to come unto me, for Heaven.n By: Carol Brophy, wonderful heeded the such is the XIIA his spike Babe Ruth lives on. race? You Master's Kingdom of First in Public Speaking Contest

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Cardinal He's gleaming, brilliant red, A big black mask upon his face And a topnot on his head. His lady dresses soberly In grey just trimmed with red: She s shy and very wary, With a topnot on her head. He's very, very watchful, Flies of: in quick alarm, But back he comes for raisins A bundle full of charm. ' He's always very chipper. He whistles. Do you hear? He's speaking very clearly, nwhat cheer! What cheer! What cheerln By1- Donald Bell KIA Second in Upper School Poetry MOTHERS what are mothers? Some people would think that was a very odd question and yet if you really questioned them, they couldn't give a very good definition. Some would say that they were persons who, well, washed dishes, cleaned floors, and did washing. They do just that. But I've a different idea of mothers and I'm going to tell you what a mother means to me, My mother has loved me since the day I was born. I know that, because she had knitted me pretty little sweaters, bootees, bonnets and all sorts of tiny, dainty clothes. She bathed me every morning and sprinkled me with powder and how she loved to sit me on her knee and rock and sing me to sleep. But time doesn't hold back and I began to grow. First birthdays and Christmases, ----- Yes Christmas! what times we had on Christmas day! I'll always remember my eighth Christmas when I woke up and found the very puppy, that had wagged his stubby tall at me from the pet shop window, sitting under the tree. Yes, that was Christmas full of surprises and wonderful things. Time went on and as I grew up, different and unusual things happened. High School, formal dances, my first job and millions of other things and there in the shadow was mother always ready to steady me when the load was heavy. Then there came the boy of my dreams and when I was twenty-two I was married. Sure, mom cried but they were tears of happiness because she knew I was happy. Now I have a little boy of two and I finally have found the reason why my mother loved me. It was because I was her own. So if you happen to be lucky and have a mother, start now to appreciate her, before it is too late because after all she is a human being too and she loves you very much. By: Mary Horne XB First in Lower School Essay