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PAGE 20 - WATERLOO CHRONICLE, WEDNESDAY. DECEMBER 18. 1985 Funeral cars are as- sembied safety m out own parking area. rather than on oobu: streets manna Cl" (1th (Pratt-n) ilif"i.L'ir,rjj.rjfei'r) RAYtl-Kém‘ "an can"! _ I. v When bereavement strikes your family. count on the strength and dedication our family has crowded for more than 35 veers Wait! WEN “it! SSSPC'itir Te5pt7rdbr saw TeiSPCr qty WW qtVISPEr Maggie Sutteridge Chronicle Special VE‘AWEI T flak}?! i 159ti%t'.cr v1',9C'sar,i? cbt" <31 @7319” “it! 'es/thd'.) 'estr As October drew to a close, a blanket of frost covered the grass each morning. Mama would make sure we ventured into the morning air adornedjn hats, scarves, and mittens. t was only mid October, yet I felt that winter was soon to descend upon us. The leaves of the trees had already changed color and nature's soldiers bravely awaited the first snowfall. The days grew shorter in length and it became dark much earlier. Mama said we children should come home directly after school and not "dilly-dally". As the sun would sink to meet the horizon each evening, I would sit at my bedroom window and watch the sky produce shadows on the pavement below. 1 always anticipated the first snowfall. It was as if something inside me suddenly awakened. My whole being felt joy and excitement; for with snow came the promise of Christmas. For me, Christmas was the happiest time of the entire year. The very thought of it aroused memories of Christmas' past. A large pine tree stood magnifi- cently in the parlour adorned with ribbons, colored figurines. garlands of tinsel and strings of popping corn. Presents wrapped carefully in festive bows and brightly coloured paper lay patiently under this grand tree. My family would gather around the organ in the parlour to sing carols with our friends and visitors. These annual events always made the holiday so special. I felt lucky to be alive. I love to open gifts, as everyone does, and would often peer eagerly at all of them. I found it so difficult not to peek inside the boxes before Christmas morning arrived. ne afternoon as I slowly made my way home from school, I caught sight of a familiar building looming in the distance. It seemed to be the size of six houses combined and must have towered about one hundred feet high. I felt strangely drawn toward the building and started in that direc- tion. Mama and I had passed by the building several times before. A wrought-iron fence surrounded the establishment and at the entrance hung a heavy wooden sign boldly announcing in black lettering - CARDINAL THOMAS C. HESCIIING HOME FOR ORPllANED CHILDREN Mama had explained to me that orphans were children with no parents who must live in such a dwelling. When bereft children were brought there, efforts were made to find suitable homes for them. In some cases, however, this was not an easy task. Homes where parents might be willing to adopt an older child were difficult to find, so in the meantime the children remained at the orphanage. It was a terrible shame. Mama explained, for children like them to grow up without loving parents to properly rear them. Teachers and governesses held positions at the orphanage. and classes were conduct- ed daily. Yet without a family influence, my Mama felt many orphans must feel unwanted and unloved. The orphanage was efficiently managed by Mrs. Charlotte Potter. the matron. She was a kindly woman with a jolly, round, gentle face and hair kept neatly in a net. Her soft blue eyes danced merrily behind wire spectacles and she spoke softly. revealing to all a warm. understanding nature. Mama greatly admired this woman. While she felt sympathy for the orphans. she also felt that a woman A Family Funeral Home . . . Pledged to Service William Pitney's Christmas Box 'jil'i5,i"rr' 51 Pi . W funeral home. chapel. family em a Mt Km WEST - "%SOSS \ Conway" Purim. met-no thttM$irtqtoo oe Kong Shoot Qala-e)echleW5ffs'ii,ii,, Father and son, we have pledged our serVIce to help you through your time ot need as compassiortatety as possible A YRAD'YION SINCE 1925 SERVICE wonmv or voun CONFIDENCE in Mrs. Potter's position must possess a strong constitution in order to maintain the reputable name of such an establishment. Mr. Clive Grimsby, president of the local bank, also donated funds to the orphanage and was considered to be their most generous benefactor. - _ - As I apprdached the orphanage, I heard the clanging of a bell. Curious, I followed the sound which led me behind the building. - - A There I saw rows of windows I guessed to be the classrooms as they resembled the windows at my school. he orphanage had been in operation for 60 I years from the time it was founded by Cardinal Hesehing. During that time,, the foundation survived solely on donations from the community. A succession of steps led from green doors into a spacious yard where several children were playing, Some were attempting to construct a snowman in the freshly fallen snow, while a few others enjoyed a game of tag near the fence where I stood. They seemed happy and lively - running, screeching and frolicking about just like classmates at my school. I found it hard to believe that these were the children Mama had spoken of. I had visions of under-nourished, shoeless, dirty- faced waits dressed only in brown burlap sacks. I watched all the activity and gazed curiously at the bright-eyed, rosy-cheeked faces. Suddenly I spotted one small boy standing off by himself. He watched the other children playing, but made no move to join them. Instead, he turned and discovered a scraggly tree branch peeking through the snow and awkwardly pulled it out. His light-colored curly hair drooped lazily beneath an old brown cap which was too large for his head. He wore no mittens and his overcoat seemed too small, but his thin pink face showed no sign of complaint. He looked quite content as he stood drawing pictures in the snow. For a moment I watched him, then slowly edged closer to where he stood. For some reason he had caught my attention. Although he was shorter in frame, he appeared to be the same age as myself. I watched him with growing interest. Not far from him I observed a group of three bigger boys huddled together whispering amongst them. selves. They too were watching the boy. The tallest of the three had black hair which hung in his eyes, while the other two wore caps and stood behind him. Without warning the tall boy hurled a snowball at the youngster, hitting him squarely on the head, sending his cap flying. The three boys laughed at this sport, then ran off in the opposite direction. Suddenly, another' hell sounded loudly through the chilly air. and one by one the children filed up the stairs through the doors, out of sight. The last child to leave the yard was the boy with the stick. He had made no move to retaliate but instead, brushed the snow from himself, retrieved his hat and slowly ambled across the yard dragging his tree branch behind him. He trod up the steps and disappeared through the doors, which closed behind him with a resounding thud. __ __ The yard lay empty except for. a lonely half-made snowman surrounded by dozens of footprints and a jagged line etched in the snow leading to the back steps of the orphanage. earingl may be late, I scurried home as fast as F I could. Slipping quietly through the kitchen entrance I was met by the housekeeper Lydia , The Perfect 2 Gift Solution - l Dot-u” he can that»: who? mu he ( vans - And mods. a helium GI C-rtiftratr wain.” comm satisfaction for both l giver and the "raw" Caulk-m In nvlllablo In any Irv-mm , Thervintheadfedttt-otim knowing l that you really are when you ttive I Ray I Delhi Gift Caulk-nu tBeer Slum depend on In Della: Gift Gram-am the IIVT air!!! tor any Ind I" m on your (in nuns I st "ENS WEAR LIMITED or "FM!“ PLACE. WATER!!!) 5iciti72shau “0 cut above them all' She was a medium-set, pretty woman with long wavy hair which tumbled past her shoulders when not kept hidden beneath her frilled cap. As I lay awake that night, I thought about the orphanage. It was sad that some children did not have a nice home, brothers and sisters, or someone like Lydia and Mama to love and care for them. Lydia had been with our family as long as I can remember. Her cheery manner lit up an entire room and her hearty laugh was indeed infectious. She cooked and cleaned for us but was also a companion and dear friend whom we all loved. I thought of Papa too. He had died when I was three years old. I tried very hard to remember him but could not. Mama told me he had been a wonderfully kind. loving man who made people happy. I missed knowing Papa, having him bounce me on his knee or read to me, but Mania reminded me that one day we would all be together again. The next morning as Lydia prepared us for school, she told us we could expect quite a fall of snow, and thought it best if we come home directly after school. Much to my delight the classes were shortened, as the schoolmaster was called away. The rest of the children hustled into the schoolyard to romp in the snow, but I seemed drawn back to the orphanage and hurried off in that direction. The orphanage was situated on Dover Street. Large ancient oak trees lined the sidewalks like hulking angels bent over as if to embrace a passerby. The houses were like castles, each so large and majestic. As I walked down this avenue, it seemed to transform itself into a path of wonder and mystique. I arrived it the orphanage and axidusiy waited for the children to scramble into the yard. Again I observed boys throwing snowballs. and the group occupied with completing the snowman. There too was the solitary boy standing outside the ring of noisy activity, seemingly gratified in his aloneness. As I watched him making pictures in the snowbank with his stick, snow descended softly upon the schoolyard. I wandered closer to watch the children play and wistfully hoped I might join them in their games. I became aware of someone watching me and looking about, saw the boy with stick in hand standing almost in front of me. Without uttering a word, he smiled shyly and pointed to a patch of snow where he had etched a face. It had two eyes, a nose. curly hair and a hat. I guessed he had drawn a picture of himself and mused at this silent introduction. The bell sounded and the children once left the yard and filed safely away into their abode. - I stooped doin to Study the picture closer and saw tc,IC'e' KIYCNEPER WAYEMOO‘ LISTOVIEL ‘99 Lot-cm Mt ttt M mum 744-3951 666-2282 291-302 mazzg-Lntzaa Featunng 2 full truck bays and compu- teored truce balancev for fast. ethcent servvce EEI2EAEElK4, EEEEEEEEEE5 .111116‘1“ 30106681006 TIRES - 3 lOCATIOIS - iii'; 'Call or V's" . ' Bast Ti ti " $030. Your Local Dealer for TIRES a SERVICE HEAVY TRUCK We specialize in DB