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something scrawled beneath it. Peering closer I read a name, thus discovering the identity of this boy. His name was William Pitney. n the days that followed. I returned to the I orphanage as often as I could. William Pitney and I became good friends and he eagerly awaited my arrival each day. d l prodded him with countless questions about himself and what life in a orphanage was like. I on the other hand would amble along the fence and recount to him numerous details about myself, family and school friends. I related to him of a time a classmate and I mischievously hid pieces of chalk inside the blackboard erasers. When the schoolmaster began to erase the board, he discovered to his dismay he was scribbling over the day's lessons rather than removing them. He never seemed too interested in replying with words; rather he would draw pictures in a book for me. I thought this behavior a bit odd at first, but as time went on I accepted his silent response, for he preferred to communicate this way. Everyone laughed loudly at this trick, but the master, becoming flustered, rapped a long stick on his desk ordering us to "Stop it this very instant." However, in doing so, the stick snapped in two bringing tears rolling down our faces as we howled so hard. Finally he dismissed us muttering that we acted like "the devil's own." William enjoyed the story immensely and his eyes danced gleefully as I shared with him mischievous pranks my brothers and sisters and I did. A _ - alking home I reflected on the time we spent together, and I realized William found in me someone who reached out to him offering him companionship and understanding. In the few short weeks we had known each other, we became quite loyal comrades. We discovered common interests we shared. William revealed to me a love for drawing, and often he would show me pictures of the inside of the orphanage, Mrs. Potter or some of the teachers. As I showed a keen interest in his work he strived to perfect the images he depicted. One afternoon as l scuttered home from Dover Street, I met Mr. Grimsby, the banker, who was a close friend of our family. He stopped to say hello and mentioned he was on his way to visit the orphanage. - Although he became sad whenever I left, I reassured him I would return as soon as I could. I told him I was just returning from visiting one of the orphans. He recognized William's name immedi- ately and remarked that William was a special child at the orphanage but also a lonely one as well. That evening, Mr. Grimsby came by to visit with Mama. They were seated in the parlor when I went in to say goodnight. He mentioned he had seen me earlier and Mama voiced some surprise for I had not told her of my after school excursions. Mr. Grimsby explained how I visited with William often and then recalling our conversation. he said William differed slightly from the other orphans. "How is William different?" I asked. "Well, my dear." he replied. "William Pitney is mute." Mama came to my room to tuck me into bed and we talked awhile about William. Upon his arrival at the orphanage he had been terribly troubled and insecure, and never uttered a sound. Doctors were sent in to examine him but could find nothing seriously wrong. They reported to Mrs. Potter that William was in slight shock and would probably speak when he felt ready to. Meanwhile, the children were hesitant to accept William as he was, but he seemed to be adjusting well. Mama said how proud she was of me for taking the time to visit William. She knew he would like to hear about our family for one day he would venture outside the confines of the orphanage walls and become part of a family as well. l fell asleep that night hearing Mama reassure me that for my generous heart I would be rewarded. ith Christmas only a few days away, Lydia sensed our mounting excitement as we watched her bake frosted cookies and tea 0 Life q Auto/Boat . Homeowners . Business JOHN LABRE or GARY WINGER Sam. Wotuioo Town Squat. Maybe I can save you some money on insurance Before you buy, let's compare. RllliEiil Iknhe in good hands. Call me and compare AIIIO-l' I '" In. I n Mt IRM- umu: Inn-VII": lumpnru 746-1 000 Sm or phone t -""-'""i""'" %rr'%r.%rdr-._ ' s'ratasapsrsttas8mrktpsaspxrstpsamrstsat WWWWVWWVWWVW) 3 Wt Wsk Mary i' ' my a tik - f g fist/ms i P'"' 1','ot9,t',rrJ,!i,r,',,.a?re,,N"sLJi "Your Experienced Travel Agent" AND STAFF VIC, WIN, JOHN. VICKY. CHRIS l IRENE AND ANITA t DONNA 'artiv 'evti.5' (WV stzmvwz CNC'u'S' C,'.Spt,r'u5' 15A"\i‘l¢' W3 They hurried into the parlor and peeked curiously at my gift. I could contain my excitement no longer, and jumped. danced, and pranced about the room with glee. "Who is this lovely bird from?" asked Mama. I stopped my joyful dance for a moment, for i realized I had no idea who the bird was from. Although I am much older now, I still recall quite vividly the winter I met William Pitney. I was only a young girl living in Rosedowne Heath, and he, a young boy I befriended ooo a very special friend who helped me to F, understand the true meaning of Christmas. Cf.VC'sdvCf,,SpC'svr,di'SPru"'sdbif.Jt' ssrdti.'iVt.'usrJi5Sp: C.%t'U,".'V cept'xs',,'." Looking around me, I saw no card or message on the box. I turned the bird over in my hand as I thought, when I noticed something inscribed in tiny letters on the underside of the bird. Peering closer, I read the words 'Thank you' with the initials WP. signed below. We must have made quite a din, each describing noisily what we had received. We tugged and pulled on his arm to quickly come and see all the presents for himself. I think he enjoyed that moment the best as he watched all the bright eyes and faces glowing with Christmas delight. It was-then I spotted a tiny wooden box hidden underneath a low hanging branch. I crawled under to see what it was and upon closer scrutiny l spied a note attached to the box. Picking it up I saw that it was addressed to me. No one had seen the box earlier and Mr. Biggs urged me to open it for he was just as curious about the mysterious box as l. I lifted up the lid and gazed upon a small wooden bird. Picking it up gingerly, I discovered that the wings of the bird moved up and down when I opened the tiny beak. It was such a beautiful little bird! I held it carefully in the palm of my hand and cried, "Mama, Lydia ... come and see my little bird!" As we j5urneyed to the church for the special service, we danced and sang. but Mama did not tell us to behave as she usually would for she knew that the merriment of the Christmas morning had filled our hearts full. hristmas morning finally arrived! All of us scrambled downstairs to see what awaited us by the tree. Shrieks of surprise rose from every corner of the house that morning. Mama and Lydia prepared breakfast for us though we were far too excited to eat. _ Mr. Biggs exclaimed how wonderful the tree looked with the decorations and he and I stood together to admire it from a distance. Mr. Biggs arrived later in the afternoon armed with a striped candy cane for each child. cakes. I wits old enough to help Lydia but I don't think she was too grateful for my awkward assistance as I dropped things on the floor in my feryor. _ Samuel Biggs owned a' bakery shop in town and each year he brought us a Christmas tree. He helped us decorate it with fancy ornaments and ribbon. singing merrily as we laughed and sang along with him. Each time I passed by the parlour where the tree stood grandly amidst all the colourful finery, I could not help but pause and stare at it with wonder. I described it to William in great detail and his face lit up in fascination. With Lydia's help I baked a gingerbread cookie specially for him. It had chocolate swirls for hair and red buttons for eyes. William was so surprised to receive this cookie that his eyes welled up with tears. He then shut them tightly and softly murmured something. At first I did not hear what he was trying so hard to say, and then, in a voice so soft and hushed I heard him speak for the first time. "Thank you!" he whispered. "Why Mama," I exclaimed. "it is from William 886-1420 WATERLOO CHRONICLE. WEDNESDAY. DECEMBER 18, 1985 - PAGE 21 Adam 'g 'muse, 6 eathetuslurtt y heart overflowed with Joy as I sat my new Mpresent upon a branch of the tree. Mr. Biggs thought the bird resembled a dove and everyone agreed. A dove, he said, represents peace and love. He thought it was quite an appropriate symbol of the Christmas season. -As I gazed with delight at my gift I suddenly felt terribly sad. bird?" "Oh yes!" I cried. “I am very happy to have been given this present. I am sad though for I did not give William Pitney a gift, except for a gingerbread cookie." ' "Well, my dear," he replied, "perhaps you have given William a most important gift after all. You visited him at the orphanage whenever you could and offered to be his friend when no one else was willing to. Because of your understanding and kindness, William Pitney has begun to speak again." Upon hearing this, I felt happy once again. Mr. Biggs was right. Friendship and love are the two most valuable gifts one person can give another. at Christmas time or any other time. Even though receiving presents is wonderful, it is the giving of a gift and the thought behind it that makes the moment special. "What is the matter, my dear?" he asked noticing my frown. "Are you not happy with your little William Pitney was adopted by a family from the north soon after Christmas. I never saw him again, yet I often recall with fondness that wonderful Christmas we shared. Every year hence whenever I peek inside William Pitney's Christmas box a small voice whispers in my heart, "peace on earth, good will toward man." Pitney! He sent me this little bird! " Of all the gifts I have ever received, that small wooden bird placed with care upon the Christmas tree is the most special to me. 378 Weber St. W., Kitchener May the joys of the season be your: 749-0605 tip