Miles Macdonell Collegiate - Macadonian Yearbook (East Kildonan, Manitoba Canada)

Page 46 text:

BACK ROW: Pat Terry, Cheryl Byrne, Elizabeth Howgate, Joan Jarmey, Vivian Redman, Judy Langrell, Bev. Rosin, Eileen Kotchorek. Donna Brobat. MIDDLE ROW: Jo-Anne Sokolowski, Donna Kendell, Marilyn Leier, Diane Troschuk, Joan Wilcznski, Sherryl Snowdon, Vic¬ toria Scrutton, Carol Temereski, Mr. Brown. FRONT ROW: Lexy McKay, Pat Pydee, Barbara Smith, Irene Weins, Terry Saltel, Dianne Willems, Pat Reichert, Deanna Mann. CLASS XJ-ROOM 16 The committee for XJ is as follows: President: Deanna Mann Vice-Pres: Donna Kendell Secretary-Tres: Pat Terry Sports Rep: Adele Woodward Year Book: Lexie MacKay XJ is an all-girls commercial room, but don’t let that scare you. We have quite a few noted athletes; Bev Rosin and Adele Woodward were a part of the Varsity Basket¬ ball Team. We also had a great volleyball team that lost its first game by default. Possibly it was better that way. This great team consisted of Carol Temer¬ eski, Marilyn Leir, Donna Kendell, Bev Rosin, Pat Terry, Pat Pydee, Dianne Willems, Nancy Wiebe, Joan Vilczyski, and Lexie MacKay. In the entertainment world Diane Willems took an active part in the tumbling display in the Variety Concert and Adele Woodward worked in make-up. Both did a wonderful job. Adele was also our “Miss Sweetheart” represent¬ ative in the Miss Sweetheart Contest. The clowns of the class are Marilyn Leir and Carol Temereski. Just listening to them when they get going during literature period makes you laugh. Carol also made an appearance at the initiation dance. When she didn’t wear all her get up, she sang us a nursery rhyme. The kid has talent, but not in singing. In recognition of our outstanding typists, our teacher has constructed a chart which appears in Room 12 to honour them. Our speed queens are Dean¬ na Mann, Vicki Scrutton, Vivian Redman. Altogether we have a fine class. —Lexie McKay SECRETARY Mrs. L. Godwin CUSTODIANS Mr. J. S. Thompson Missing: Mr. J. Hryunk 44

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Literary Contest Winners PRIZE STORY THE CONQUEST—Merrilyn Ferguson XI-D PRIZE ESSAY THE PATH TO THE LAKE—Bill Harper XII-A PRIZE POEM THE CONFLICT—Harry Taylor XII-B THE CONQUEST “I’m sorry; we could do nothing. Perhaps if it had been sooner, if you had been able to bring him in before. . I accepted these words as if they had been, “I’m sorry, we have no bread today. If you had been sooner. . I let go of his hand, death-heavy, and watched the nurse straighten his limbs, then draw up the white sheet that moulded spectrally over his form. Now, all life was gone. He was just a body. But where did it go? What was it? I hadn’t seen it leave. It seemed so absurd to me. Death. Just a body . . . flesh that soon would undergo funeral preparations. Flesh that, in a satin lined casket, would be lowered into a gaping hole. I could hear, far off, the thud of earth on wood. I had been to a funeral before. I had felt grief then. I had cried with my eyes and with my heart. Where was that grief now? Why couldn’t I find it for the one I loved so much? I felt ashamed. Yet, what did it matter? Was this what we live for—to die? It is all a useless thing. We are just things—no more. We grow, mature, but it is certain we will be struck down. And that’s all it takes. One blow. There are so many failures in life. Why doesn’t everyone stop living now instead of sweating, fight¬ ing, loving, hating—only to meet death in the end? And yet we do everything we can to preserve such a stupid, useless thing as life. We fight on and on, trying to claw our way over the obstacles placed be¬ fore us. We are poor, footless, stupid animals. Sud¬ denly I hated everything, everyone. I hated my¬ self . . . I remembered how much a part of our plans of the future that house had been—that house that helped to kill him. He had worked late, we had done without, assuring ourselves our time would come— but after the house had been paid for. The nurse put a gentle arm across my shoulders. “Come along now, you can rest and be alone in the next room.” I felt sorry for her because she was so kind. I walked passively beside her and she guided me into a soft, green, room. I sat down stiffly on an old. mushy, and comfortable chair. I stared, straight ahead. I realized the nurse would go back, change the bedding, and, quite soon, someone else would occupy the room. And life would go on. No one would stop to mourn his death. Everything would continue as before. “He won’t come home, not ever again,” my mind taunted. The words were obscure. I heard each word in itself and could not connect them together to grasp their meaning. “Something will have to be done with his clothes.” I thought. “I had better phone Mr. Kelly and say he won’t be coming in for a while. Perhaps later, but not just yet.” Something told me I was not making sense but that too refused to make itself clear and understood . . . “I know nothing I can say will help ease your sor¬ row right now,” the doctor was saying. “No.” I thought, “Nothing anybody can say will help. Please leave me alone. Let me die.” “If it’s any help at all, there was a little pain and he died swiftly.” “Birds fly swiftly too, off into the horizon . . .” Again I knew I was not making sense. “Would . ..would you care to talk?” the doctor gently inquired. I nodded. It made no difference. Suddenly I realized it did make a difference—I had to talk to someone. “Why did God do it? I had so much faith before, and now that’s gone and it’s been replaced by hatred. Do you know what it is to love someone with every¬ thing that’s in you? Do you know the times of quiet understanding, of sharing, and of complete unselfish¬ ness and love? God knows because he is God. And yet, knowing, he took everything I had—for Him¬ self! And now, I’m supposed to be full of understand¬ ing and say, ‘It is the will of God.’” The doctor gazed down at me and I felt suddenly weary. A terrible debilitation began to creep into my brain. The doctor was talking soothingly. “I understand that you can feel this way. It may sound hollow and meaningless—what I am saying— but after a while, after you have fully understood what has happened, you’ll find everything coming to you and you’ll lose this bitterness. But you must find your own peace of mind. That’s something you must fight for alone.” 46