Kennedy Collegiate Institute - Kencoll Yearbook (Windsor, Ontario Canada)

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Page 24 THE KENCOLL 19S7 OTTAWA CANDID SHOTS

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THE KENCOLL 1957 Page 23 O O O A PRAYER ANSWERED Since the time when I was a very little girl, I had loved burses. I suppose that was natural enough since everyone in the valley where I lived owned them and I practically grew up on one. I always dreamed of owning a black Arabian colt, but to a family of moderate means, that dream was next to the impossible. However, I never thought of that. I just kept hoping that perhaps next Christmas or my next birthday would see that dream a reality ; but somehow it never did. Little did 1 realize then, what an important role that dream was to play in my later life. My story really begins on a dull wintry evening shortly after my sixteenth birthday. 1 was on my way home from my girl friend ' s and I remember that it was very cold and snowing heavily. The road was slippery and I had a difficult time walking. I tried to stay as close to the edge of the road as I could to keep out of the way of any chance vehicles. I shall never know what prompted me to turn around but when 1 did, a threatening, blurry shape was rushing towards me. I could see the dim glow of two headlights and tried to run. to set out of its path but the road was too slippery. Then I felt a sharp searing pain, like a thousand knives cutting into my back — then nothing. Quickly unconscious- ness engulfed me and I floated down. down. down, into its infinite, swirling depths. I opened my eyes slowly. Everything was so fog- gy. I tried to sit up but I couldn ' t move. My back and legs were numb. When my vision cleared some- what, 1 could see my doctor ' s face. Well, young lad , he said cheerfully, how are you feeling? 1 — 1 can ' t seem to move! I whispered and a note of hysteria crept into my voice. I can ' t move! Then I could say no more. The lump in my throat wouldn ' t let me speak. I could only stare blankly. 1 still couldn ' t think clearly. Somewhere, deep in my mind, instinct took control. I ' m paralyzed! That must be it ! I could feel the hot tears burning my eyelids till I could hold them back no longer. The days passed slowly, agonizingly — then weeks, then months. I was released from the hospital and sent home. The doctor ' s parting words still ring clearly in my memory. I have done all I can, Laurie. I ' m afraid you will never walk again ; but try to remember to keep your chin up and have courage. One year, then two and finally five years passed and faded into nothingness. I spent those years in a wheel chair and tried every day to exercise my legs. At times I thought they were becoming stron- ger, that some feeling, some life, was seeping back into them, but I guess that was only because I wanted so much to walk again and perhaps even ride. A month after my twenty-first birthday, my dad took me outside after our evening meal. The air was crisp and fresh. The last rays of the sun. streaked across the sky in a blaze of red and gold. I could hear the rushing water of the brook beyond the house and the crickets chirping noisily in the dew- sprinkled grass. My dad left me for a few moments but soon returned. Behind him, tugging defiantly on a rope — But no! no! Sure that could not be! Surely my sight must be failing — and yet! The two shadows stopped about ten feet away from me and then out of the deepening darkness my dad spoke. Laurie, this is your birthday present. It ' s a little late perhaps, but that couldn ' t be helped. He ' s com- pletely yours. His papers are made out in your name but there is one thug you must do. You must walk over here and get him. Surely dad, you are joking! You know that I can ' t walk ! I ' ve tried and tried, over and over again. Even the doctor assured me that I would never walk again. My words fell on deaf ears. He never said another word. He only waited. I knew that he wasn ' t joking with me and I remembered the doctor ' s words, Have courage. The words echoed and re-echoed in my mind and ruse, to a crescendo — Have cour- age ! 1 lave courage ! I ' h God, help me to have courage, help me to walk ! J gripped the arms of the wheel-chair and inched myself forward to the edge of the seat. The world stopped breathing. Slowly, ever so slowly, painfully, 1 began to raise myself. Pains, continuous, sharp, fleeting, rushed through my legs and along my back. I was standing! First one foot and then the other; First one foot and then the other! The words became an incessant chant. Step by step I moved forward in a trance. The muscles in my legs were screaming with the effort of every step and perspir- ation flowed freely from my forehead. My legs could hold me no longer but I had done it. Slowly 1 col- lapsed on my knees. The colt stuck his cold, wet nose in my face and the tears once more stained my cheeks. How strange that I had never fully realized it before. The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away — and the Lord giveth. Second Prize | NY MARSHALL, 13A THE SIXTH CHRISTMAS This year, as every year, we children gathered about the fireplace while the Yule logs crackled on the open grate, and Grandfather told again the story of the Sixth Christmas, the same tale that his fathers before him had told. The story always ended the same way, but the in-between part was always a little different, for even he who had seen it was not sure of what had happened. Seventy years ago, the tale began, a little boy came to Britain, with his father, from his home in Normandy, after the Norman conquest. They settled in Land ' s End and erected a castle where the father housed his retainers and any friends who came along. (Continued on Page 25)

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THE KENCOLL 1957 Page 25 Oim to Ottawa THE CAPITAL TRIP Saturday night, February 16. Dear Nancy, After 14 hours travel time, we finally disembarked Friday morning at an underground depot adjacent to the Chateau Laurier, Ottawa, a luxurious hotel with elegant appointments. Most of us were com- fortably quartered although some oddities in room assignments did occur. For instance, while Donna White, Mary Weber, Marion Sinko and I received a spacious room with four downy beds, across the corridor from us four of the fellows shared a room with one bed. First on our itinerary, we sat in on a session of parliament from the gallery. Fach member of the house had a microphone which was shut off until he signalled that he wished to speak. We were de- lighted to be present at discussions which had been reported in The Star earlier. At noon, Mr. Don Brown and Air. Fmerson, se- cretary to Honourable Paul .Martin and representing him, were hosts at a luncheon for us prepared by the Ladies Auxiliary at Knox Presbyterian Church. Both these important men posed for snapshots with some of us. Lisgar Collegiate feted us that evening with a Valentine sock-hop in their gym. At the end of the dance, we were urged to pull down the balloons, hearts and streamers for souvenirs — a clever scheme to help the decorating committee undecorate. Back at the hotel we took advantage of room ser- vice to supply a midnight feast for pajama parties. Noted in the milling crowd were Beverley Bray, Barbara Hockney, Marian Vollans and Sandra Bat- terson, smart in flannelette, and Gayle Hutson love- ly in chiffon. Later, Miss Mcintosh dropped in. She was dressed in more formal attire. On Saturday morning, at the Art Gallery, we saw- displayed the framework of a dinosaur, also stuffed Polar Bears, totem poles and reproductions of all the great paintings. In the afternoon, at the Mint, newly designed sil- ver dollars were distributed to those who had money to pay for them. Later, Miss Mcintosh and some of the students were guests at a luncheon in the Speaker ' s Chambers at Parliament Building. The bus tour of the city we took included a stop on the fringe of Ottawa at an incline. Plutocrats with dimes rented toboggans from the children playing about and slid down the hill. At Rideau Hall, the Governor-General ' s Mansion, his aide-de-camp showed us the Tent Room, former- ly an indoor tennis court and now a reception hall. the ballroom and the living room which was filled with roses to honour a visiting English duchess. During free time, some of the students went over to Hull to visit the Eddy Match Company no doubt, while other attended the beautiful movie palaces in Ottawa. Then we returned to the Chateau where our pa- tient chaperons, Mr. and Airs. Walter, Miss Mcin- tosh and Mr. Mahon, collected us up for the eleven p.m. train, homeward bound. Your Foreign Correspondent, DOREEN MOODREY (Hon. W. C. Kennedy, continued from Page 5) His abilities were quickly recognized in Ottawa. Upon his re-election in 1921 he was made Minister of Railways and Canals and also a member of the Privy Council in the government of Rt. Hon. W. L- Mackenzie King. His contribution to the budget de- bate, in which he stuck closely to financial issues, was one of the finest initial efforts that has been heard in the House of Commons. Early in the autumn of 1922, Hon. W. C. Kennedy was stricken with an illness that necessitated several operations in Montreal. Skilled surgeons were called into consultation and he appeared to improve under their ministrations. He went to Florida accompanied by his wile for a period of convalescence but two weeks after his arrival there, he was stricken by a heart attack which proved fatal. He was buried ceremoniously, in the Kennedy family mausoleum at St. Alphonsus cemetery. This great Canadian statesman and prominent Windsorite might well serve as an inspiration to the students of Hon. W. C. Kennedy Collegiate In- stitute to urge them on to better, greater, higher attainments: to imbue them with a devotion to prin- ciples, a spirit ol service, and a love for their fellow man. NANCY BODYK, 13A (The Sixth Christmas — Continued from Page 23) For the first few Christmases in Britain, the boy had been content, for the son of a feudal lord always found something new to do, and five Christmases passed before he and his father had noticed. How- ever, when they became settled and had time to think, his father became lonely for Normandy and a Norman Christmas. So, he organized a huge party for the feast of Noel, inviting all of his tenants and man}- of the lords who governed adjoining estates. On the night of the party, his father ' s guests came in droves. The wassail bowls were filled to the brim, the musicians played the ancient carols oil their lutes and the carollers sang sweetly. But the little boy was neither satisfied nor happy. He left the feast and the castle ; then he crept across the lonely moors to the church on the pro- montory above the sea, whose doors, he knew, would be open to those who wished to keep a Christmas watch. He pulled open the huge oak doors and tip- toed in. All was quiet except for the pattering of a grey mouse in a corner. The tall tapers around the creche flickered and cast long shadows on the cold stone walls. He stumbled into a front bench and. in his loneliness, he burst into tears and his great gasping sobs broke the silence. Suddenly, he heard, as though across some great void powerful voices, as of carollers, chanting a mighty anthem. He looked up and saw, in the flick- ering candlelight, movement around the creche. The Child stirred and his mother laid a comforting hand on his head. One of the tiny sheep bawled and the shepherd boy who held him stroked him until he was silent once more. But, even as the boy rubbed (Continued on Page 57)