Loyola College - Review Yearbook (Montreal, Quebec Canada)

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Loyola College Review Robert Swinton Samuel Tomiuk Bernard Vanier Andrew Walsh Darrell Walsh Edmond Woods

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Loyola College Review Page 6 Basil McOuillan James O'Connor Patrick O’Reilly Lloyd O’Toole Paul Racz Jacques Smith

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LOYOLA COLLEGE Page 8 REVIEW EASTER INTERLUDE A SMALL boy named Peter strolled along the Champs-Elysees. It was spring . . . spring in Paris! and though he knew not the reason why, his young heart was overwhelmed by its exuberance. As he wandered down the broad boulevard, drinking in with child-like imperceptibility the subtle change of this new world, his spirits were somewhat clouded by the sad thought of the coming Easter. This year, under German occupation, there would be no Easter celebrations, no religious festivities . . . nothing. His father and mother had been taken away to work for the enemy. This year there would be no Easter party, no search for Easter eggs, the large coloured ones that he sometimes found hidden under his well-worn hat . . . no, nothing like that during German occupation. Peter and his grandfather would have to stay at home on Sunday. They would not be allowed to attend Mass at the great Cathedral as had been their custom. Yet for all his troubles Peter's laden spirits quickly succumbed to the magic effects of this lovely day. Turning a corner, he noticed a man hurriedly carving the emblem of a fish on one of the trees that bordered the avenue. He would have stopped to watch, but it was nearing lunch time . . . he kept on his way. Suddenly the loud bang of a pistol shot pierced the air. The man who had been carving the fish emblem a few yards back, crumpled to the ground, lifeless. Peter lost all further incentive to idle on the way home. A few minutes es breathless and excited, he burst in on his grandfather, relating the incident just as he had seen it. The old gentle- man listened attentively, in without comment said, Sit down and eat your lunch, my boy. They ate in silence. Immediately after lunch grandfather left the house and did not return until late that evening. Surely, thought Peter, “this unusual absence is because of what I have told grandpa. Yet try as he would, he could not find any clue. Days slipped by. At times Peter noticed the strange emblem here and there on different trees, but by this time he had come to disregard them. Good Friday came without any public recognition. Peter's fears of an Easter void of all former joys, loomed large and dismal. On the evening of Holy Saturday a group of people met at grandfather's home. They spoke in low tones, and by their behaviour Peter knew that something was about to happen. It was not long, however, before his grandfather sent him off to bed, but with a timely warning, We will rise early tomorrow morning, Peter, so have a good sleep. That night in his prayers Peter asked God that he might yet enjoy at least a part of Easter in the way they used to. At dawn grandfather awakened Peter. He dressed quickly and they left the house together. As Peter stepped out on the porch, he was surprised to see a tiny fish carved on the tree on the lawn. “Follow me and do not ask any questions, said the old man gruffly. Every now and then the boy noticed the strange sign carved on wood or sometimes the word chalked on the pave- ment with an arrow. Why, we are following the sign, thought Peter, but why? He remem- bered his grandfather's warning, so he did not speak. Soon they reached the outskirts of the city, then a small wood. There on one of the trees was the sign marking the way. As they approached, they were stopped by a man. He seemed to be asking for a password, and Peter heard his grandfather mumble, “Fish is being served. They passed on. Soon they came to clearing in the woods. The grass was beaded with dew. Peter caught sight of a small crowd gathered around a make-shift altar. A priest was preparing to say Mass. His grandfather led him into the midst of the silent assembly. There, for a brief half hour, Peter enjoyed his happiest Easter. There in the midst of that damp, crowded wood, he felt once more the jovs he had experienced on previous Easter morns. As the sun slowly rose to the blue sky, filling the grove with its new brilliance, Peter recalled how he used to kneel by the side of his parents in quiet contentment. how in thé large cathedral every Easter Sunday morning he used to hear the choir singing the praises of God just as now the thousand little beauties of that tiny wood seemed to be doing. Then as if each fond memory seemed to be a stev to further enlightenment, Peter at last remembered the reason whv the emblem of a fish had been chosen to lead the way to this secret place. They were used by the early Christian martyrs to point out the intricate mazes of the catacombs. far beneath the pagan city of Rome. Yes, it was that symbol of the fish which meant in Greek, Jesus Christ, Son of God, Saviour of the world!! ` HENRY GRIFFIN, '46. WALTER BANNAN, '47.