Trafalgar Castle School - Yearbook (Whitby, Ontario Canada)

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Pedro Twice a week the same thing happened: he would be awakened by his wife around five o ' clock, he would dress, drink his coffee and set out for the mercado libre . The fresh morning air, still scented by those tropical flowers, surrounded him and he always inhaled it with the same longing as a thief staring at a jewel. On his donkey, the heavy burden of fresh vegetables and fruits added colour to the scenery. But this morning, Pedro was in no mood for contemplation: he lacked enthusiasm and vigour. The stalls with their faded coverings were already set up and the market was teeming with life. Vendors yelled at each other and laughed at their own jokes but Pedro was gloomy. With simple indifference, he put his fruits out on display, the good apples at the top, the rotten ones below; here the melon, there a couple of guanabanas . The truth was that he was bored and his soul seemed lifeless. For how many years had he been doing this? Ten? Twenty? An infinity undoubtedly. The same faces looked at him twice a week, in their eyes the usual question: Vale, can you give them for a few centavos cheaper? They knew he could not, for after all he had to support his family but they were as obstinate as his donkey. Then the boys would sneak up from behind and steal the best oranges and he would scold them, patiently in the first few years, then later angrily in a blast of Spanish. Of course, he dealt unfairly with his customers, especially with those who hid their money under the mattresses and claimed to be poor. He gave them the dented vegetables and occasionally he kept a few centavos. They could not count anyway. If his wife had been there, she would have sent him to church to ask forgiveness. But Pedro shrugged his shoulders and pulled his sombrero down to shield his black eyes from the hot sun. He needed and earnestly wished for an event which would bring life back into his soul so that he could cry out with the usual gusto. Had he not pulled down his hat, he would have missed her. As it was he had to look out sideways and she was approaching from the north side. She was ghastly thin, very small, extremely dirty, Pedro thought, and definitely not a customer, so why look at her? But he had to do so, for the next time he looked around, she was standing in front of him, her eyes first devouring the big melon on the floor and then being raised to his with a tender longing. Pedro was not used tO ' being charitable because he thought that a penniless creature like himself had no money to give, and was not that the only charity? The woman ' s look told him he was desperately wrong and that she was ter- ribly hungry. He felt a jab somewhere inside and it was pressing hard. His blood began to move with fresh rhythm and he smiled. Her eyes became hopeful. Pedro stretched forward, raised the melon and placed it in her hands. Then Pedro ' s soul was in rhythm with his blood and he yelled: Come to Pedro. He is here and has the best! Renata Pennacchiotti, Grade XIII. Page 26

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And white and negro, Anglican and Greek Catholic, fight side by side. Their intense loyalty and courage is shown significantly by the fact that Can- ada did not hesitate to enter with Britain in a war to safeguard democracy. Could we not have remained aloof and refused to aid the tiny island in her defiance of totalitarian Germany? Possibly, but it would be unlike Canadians as a people to neglect responsibility. Europe still remembers the valiant action of these soldiers. Whenever there was a dirty job to be done or an impossible victory to achieve, they sent in Canadians, knowing we would not rest until the job was finished. Is that not why so many of Canada ' s sons have resting- places in foreign lands? Were not Canadians loved all over Europe for their amiability and good nature? Surely then, this common soldier is worthy to bear, as his emblem, the Canadian maple leaf. Surely he is distinctively Canadian. The kinds of borrowers and lenders are innumerable: the sly borrowers, frank borrowers, meek borrowers and haughty borrowers are counteracted by the unsuspecting lenders, peeved lenders, condescending lenders and eager lenders. For the meeting place of all these species, the boarding school for girls is an ideal spot. An everyday event in a certain school is to see a pert blonde girl bounce into the room of a shy brunette, famous for her collection of sweaters. They are scarcely on speaking terms and eyebrows rise when the vivacious Shirley is seen chatting with the sedate Sharon. Their conversation can easily be imagined. Hi! My, what a darling room! Where did you get all those pennants? Hi, Shirley! Gee, thanks — ■ my Dad brought them. How would you like to go downtown with the gang to-day? We should just love to have you. Could 1 really? I ' d love to come! By the way, while I think of it, 1 need a beige turtleneck sweater for to-night! You wouldn ' t happen to have one, would you? Moments later the sly Shirley emerges victorious from the room of the un- suspecting Sharon. Mary is known for being frank and is not always liked for it. When she enters Martha ' s room and declares: I just came in to borrow your red dress for the show to-night. I knew you wouldn ' t mind! It is no wonder that Martha can be seen turning tO ' her room- mate afterwards and saying: Who does she think she is? Borrowing can be banned, shunned, looked down upon and shrieked about, but it will always exist as an institution until human nature stops be- lieving that the grass is greener on the other side of the fence . Patricia Earle, Grade XIII. Borrowing Ann Wellington, Grade XII. Page 25

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i S.CM. Bazaar All records were beaten m fun and funds this year. Takings at the sale were $600. Expenses have to be deducted but nevertheless this represents a most tangible sign of school spirit both on the part of the students and the visitors. The money will be used not only for donations to the many causes which S.CM. supports but this year a pew will be given for Grace Chapel. What would happen if we could not travel? It would mean, for instance, that I could not go to Connecticut for Christmas. Travel is a must. We should not be as advanced as we are to-day but for travel. If the fashion changed, how should we ever get to know about it? I should never have been able to come to this school and Jcmene would never have been my room-mate, unless, of course, she swam from Columbia. It takes less than two hours to fly from Toronto to New York; from Hamburg to Toronto takes sixteen hours. It would be possible to go to a funeral in Europe and be on time, if you live on the North American continent. I do not think that space-ships are necessary for travel. What do we want of the moon or other planets? I think that we feel as comfortable down on earth. If I had a free ticket to the moon, I should sell it and take a trip on our world and see the beautiful sights our own planet has to offer. PETRA VON FESTENBERG, Grade IX. Page 27