Anthology - First Class® Information

2008 DSBN“How do I knowwhat I think untilI see what I say?”E. M. Forster1

2008 DSBN AnthologyCover Art - I Have Many Facesby Mike HluskaE. L. Crossley — Grade 11COPYRIGHT © DISTRICT SCHOOL BOARD OF NIAGARA, 2008No portion of this document may be reproduced outside of the District School Board of Niagara without thewritten permission of the District School Board. If such permission is granted, it extends only to materialsoriginating in the Board. For any materials originating outside of the District School Board, where copyright hasbeen extended to the Board, individual Boards must seek direct copyright approval for all such items. Everyreasonable precaution has been taken to trace the owners of copyrighted material and to make dueacknowledgement. Any omission will be gladly rectified in future printings.2

2008 DSBNTable of Contents:Acknowledgements .................... ................. 3Submissions: Grades K-8 ............ ............. 6-71Submissions: Teachers ............... ........... 72-84Submissions: Grades 9-12 .......... ......... 85-131Contributing Schools ................... .............. 132“Creativity is allowingyourself to make mistakes. Artis knowing which ones tokeep.”Scott Adams3

2008 DSBN AnthologyImagine the following scene.The room appears to be in disarray. Papers are scattered about the entire length ofa large library table and form piles along areas of the floor and on chairs. A seriesof photographs and artwork are displayed along one wall. From a team ofeducators, there is an occasional chuckle, sigh, gasp and outburst of “wait untilyou read this” or “just look at this one.” There is a general feeling of amazementand joy. A curious passerby comes to halt outside our door and asks, “What’sgoing on in here? This looks like too much fun to be a meeting.” The conversationleads to questions about what we are doing and why.The answer is simple. We are celebrating.We are celebrating the diverse talents of our students and teachers. Faces, the titleof our first board-wide anthology, was chosen to call attention to the widespectrum of ages, abilities and backgrounds of our DSBN artists and authors.Find a comfy spot to relax and take your eyes and mind for a stroll through thesepages. I guarantee that you, too, will occasionally chuckle, sigh, gasp and call outfor someone nearby to - “come see this.”Before I leave you to your page turning, I would like to thank the Anthology Teamfor all of their hard work:♦ Jerome Black from Maple Grove♦ Gregory Hamelin from Oakridge Public♦ Gerda Klassen our Arts Consultant♦ Heather Lailey from Thorold Secondary♦ Bruce Soderholm from Beamsville District Secondary School♦ Betsy Tauro from Beamsville District Secondary School♦ Karen Wager - Secretary & Editor Extraordinaire♦ Kristin Willms - Literacy Support TeacherA special thank you also goes to Mrs. Lailey’s Writer’s Craft students and Mr.Hamelin’s intermediate students for designing the layout of the anthology.And finally, thank you to the teachers, students and parents for providing such arich array of talent. You are all truly inspirational.Ann GilmoreCurriculum Consultant:English and Literacy4Adam GilmoreGordon Public SchoolGrade SK

2008 DSBNLet Go — by Michelle SimpsonRidgeway-Crystal Beach S.S.Grade 105

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2008 DSBNPink Is Bestby Morgan HillikerGreendale P.S.Grade 17

2008 DSBN AnthologyWhere the Wild Things AreMy Wild ThingDrawing by Kristen GodinMy Wild Thing’s name is Scary. He has scales,triangles, squares, circles, and skin like leather. Scaryalso has 4 eyes, 5 feet, 2 arms, and spikes. He canwalk. He lives on a deserted island and eats meat. Hesleeps on leaves on the ground. My Wild Thing’s fearis people, but he likes to scare them. Scary dislikesvegetables. His monsterality is mean, bad, and nasty.by Kristen GodinGordon P.S.Grade 28

2008 DSBNWild Horses Couldn’t Keep Me AwayRetelling Framework of the Story ‘Wild Horses Couldn’t Keep me Away’ (AuthorJeanne Bushey)Beginning:Anthony’s mom dropped off Anthony at school. Anthony’s mother saidthat “wild horses won’t keep her away.” After school Anthony was looking for hismother when a big boy asked him “What’s the matter?”Middle:Anthony asked his mom the next day, “Could bears keep you away?” Momsaid, “Wild horses or bears couldn’t keep me away.” After school Anthony waslooking for his mom. Then a big girl asked him, “What’s wrong?” “Just looking formy mom,” said Anthony.End:The next day Anthony asked his mom, “Can aliens keep you away?” “Noway,” said Mom. After school Anthony spotted his mother in the car. He asked hismom, “Where did all the aliens come from?” “I don’t know,” said his mother, “ButI sure know that they won’t ask us to have a ride in their space ship. I told themthat I had to pick you up first.”GreenIt means shy, ticklish and trusting.It is the number 1.It is like moss on rocks.It is like seeing Aunt Jan in California.It is the memory of my parentsWho taught me to talk and walkWhen I was very little.It means I believe in forever friendship.by Claire ThompsonJordan P.S.Grade 2by Alexandra GilmoreGordon P.S.Grade 39

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2008 DSBN AnthologyDogerella - By Chelsea MartinOakridge P.S.Grade 4“Reading usually precedes writingand the impulse to write is almostalways fired by reading. Reading,the love of reading, is what makesyou dream of becoming a writer.”Susan Sontag14

2008 DSBNThe Falling DogOnce upon a time there was a dog named Scooter, and a cat namedTricycle. One day, they were at a fair, and they decided to go on the ferris wheel.Scooter started talking about superheroes, and if he and Tricycle weresuperheroes. He also thought if he could soar on an invisible scooter, and howTricycle could soar on an invisible tricycle. He leaned over the Ferris wheel seatjust to see how it would be to feel the wind in his ears. Suddenly, he fell down,down, down to the ground. He was unconscious.Scooter started gaining super powers. So did Tricycle. They were superstrong, and Scooter rode on an invisible scooter, and Tricycle rode on an invisibletricycle.Jo-Jo the parrot, their instructor, called to them to tell them theirmissions. Their first mission was to help get Jo-Jo some new feathers because hegot caught in a fire before, and his feathers burned.They rode their scooters and tricycles right to the craft store. They bought25 red feathers, and 15 blue. When they got back, they gave the feathers to Jo-Jo.He loved them. He thought they were great super heroes.The next day, they got a new task. They had to ride their vehicles all theway to Florida. There, they had to put out a fire. There were 15 cats they had tosave. They put out the fire, using their watery breath, but now they had to find allthe cats. They counted 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8. They kept looking...9,10,11,12. Finally, theyfound the last three. All the cats were so happy, but they were sad at the same timebecause they just found out their best friend’s cruise ship was sinking.Scooter and Tricycle were in the ocean before you could say “ZAP!”Tricycle jumped in the water, and was carrying the cruise ship to shore. Everyonewas so happy.“Scooter, Scooter, are you okay?” whispered Tricycle.“Oh, yeah, I’m fine!” exclaimed Scooter. “That was all just a dream,” spokeScooter again.“Yeah, of course, whatever just happened to you was a dream,” informedTricycle.“Oh...because we were superheroes? And we were saving so many people,and Jo-Jo the parrot lost feathers, and we had to go to the craft store to buy more.It was so exciting,” expressed Scooter.Well, Scooter had to relax, and take that dream as a message because youcan be whatever you want if you keep your mind to it. Unless you want tobe...invisible, a dinosaur, a superhero, or anything else in that alley.by Melanie Felker and Kendall FraserPark P.S.Grade 415

2008 DSBN AnthologyThe Lonely KittenOnce upon a time, there were 2 kittens born very different from all theothers. They were born on December 25th, 2005. Even that was unusual becausemost kittens are born in the spring and not in the winter! It was a stormy day thatday, and it rained and snowed. But it turned out to be a wonderful day becausethere was a rainbow and 2 new kittens were born!There was a boy kitten and a girl kitten. Charlie had orange fur and greeneyes. He was different because he had 6 toes on each paw, and most kittens haveonly 4. He was a really nice kitten. Sophie was Charlie’s sister. She had orange fur,just like Charlie, and big blue eyes. She was different from the others because shehad a crooked tail. Even though they were different, Charlie’s mom loved them justthe same.There was also a bad kitten named Benny, who didn’t have a home, or amom or dad, because they died. He wasn’t in the same litter as Charlie and Sophie.He was just a kitten from the neighbourhood. He was not very nice.Charlie and Sophie were about 8 months old when they first went outsideand met Benny. Benny started making fun of Charlie and Sophie because they weredifferent from other kittens. Charlie and Sophie didn’t think that Benny was beingnice so they tried to walk away. But Benny wouldn’t let them. So Charlie andSophie begged Benny to let them go. So they said to Benny, “Could we go talk in thecorner for a second?”Benny said, “Yes, but you can’t run away.”Sophie then said to Charlie, “Charlie—that wasn’t a very good idea to gooutside.”Charlie said, “But we can’t stay inside forever, there’s a whole world tosee!”Back at home, Charlie and Sophie’s mom was getting worried, and didn’tknow where her two kittens were. She decided to go out looking for them, butcouldn’t find them. So she headed back home because it was getting dark.Meanwhile, Charlie and Sophie were crying, cold and hungry. They couldsmell some food from the garbage cans in the alley way where Benny had themtrapped. So Charlie went to the garbage can to see what was inside, and broughtlots of tasty food back, because Benny was sleeping. Benny kept them there allnight.Charlie and Sophie’s mom woke up the next day, and started looking forher kittens again. She was just about to give up, when she heard a familiar “meow”that sounded like Sophie’s. She kept looking and she found them trapped in thealley way by Benny.Sophie and Charlie’s mom knew Benny, because she was friends withBenny’s mom before Benny’s mom died. Benny had to grow up on his own andnever had anyone to love him. Charlie and Sophie’s mom said to Benny, “I knowyour mom and dad died and you had no one to live with, but it doesn’t mean you16

2008 DSBNcan boss my kittens around just because they are different from other kittens.”Benny said, “I’m sorry I bossed your kittens around. I am jealous becauseI have no one to live with. I actually think Charlie’s paws and Sophie’s tail are kindacool. I wish I could be different too.”Charlie and Sophie said, “Mom, can Benny stay at our house?”Charlie and Sophie’s mom said, “Yes, you are welcome to come and stay atour house if you want to.”Benny was so happy because he was so lonely before and now he hadsomeone to love him.So it turns out that they all became friends and lived happily ever after.by Kendall FraserPark P.S.Grade 4RespectCharacter Education Posterby Natasha BereczkyPort Weller P.S.Grade 7Everyone is a StarCharacter Education Posterby Dalton BoltonPort Weller P.S.Grade 817

2008 DSBN AnthologyDrifting Home18Here I hold a piece of driftwood. The dictionary defines driftwood aswood floating on, or driven ashore by water. But, to me, driftwood means muchmore than that. My family has many pieces of driftwood gathered from variousbeaches. However, we got our very special “Driftwood” in a different way and ourrelationship has changed us all. That’s because our special “Driftwood” isn’t a pieceof wood at all. It’s a dog!Some people who want a dog go to a breeder or a pet store. Me and myfamily went to the Lincoln County Humane Society. When we first walked into thebuilding, I noticed a strange and unpleasant smell. When we went through thedoor into the dog room, we were greeted with the noise, noise, noise!!! All thosehomeless barking dogs! Their voices, high and low, sharp and slow, echoed loudlyoff the concrete walls. Talk about surround sound! We slowly walked down theaisle, and then, we saw it. A dog, huddled quietly in a corner of its cold and barrenstall, looking lost and out of place. She looked a bit like a piece of wood trappedagainst a rock.We read her report card. Except for one B, she was a straight A dog who’dbeen kept in a kennel all day and in a laundry room at night. Her previous ownerssimply had no time or interest in her. We spoke to her through the bars. With herhead tucked into her chest and her sad brown eyes looking at the floor, shecautiously offered a paw to us. Within a few days this sandy-coloured, 3-year-old,golden-retriever-collie-cross, was to have a new home, a new family, and a newname.Choosing this dog was as natural as walking barefoot along a beach.Choosing a name for the dog, however, was a bit more of an adventure. Dover?Daisy?... As we observed the dog in the yard, we quickly noticed how very light shewas on her feet, trotting along effortlessly. We also noticed how the wind throughher “feathery” legs and tail looked like waves. As the dog paused to sniff at an“ornament” in our garden, my family knew we had just the name for our newlyfound treasure. We didn’t really know where she had come from or where she hadbeen. She’d appeared silently out of nowhere. We had spotted her, thought shewas beautiful, and brought her home. She was a lot like that piece of wood in ourgarden. And so we named our dog Driftwood.Just as water has a way of sculpting wood and rock, being with us haschanged our dog, and our dog has changed us. Driftwood’s fur is no longer dry andmatted. Now it is soft, clean, and sweet smelling. Driftwood no longer jumps whenthe television is turned on or when the telephone rings. We’d had her for 2 weeksbefore she let out her first bark. Driftwood didn’t know what to do with a ball or asqueaky toy. We taught her how to play. No longer is it mom’s voice that wakes

2008 DSBNme. Rather, I get greeted every morning by a wet nose and a furry face. It took awhile, but now Driftwood wags her tail when she is excited and we are excited whenshe wags her tail. It makes a great feather duster. Driftwood doesn’t look at thefloor or walls anymore. Now she looks right into our eyes and smiles back at us.It’s been a few months since we brought Driftwood home from the animalshelter and welcomed her into my family. Walking with her head and tail held high,she is a more confident dog. She is gentle and easygoing and loves to be petted.Even during the busiest of days, we all take time to pause and snuggle with her. Weoffer Driftwood a home, a place to belong. We share our love and she brings out thebest in each of us. My definition of Driftwood is “the best dog in the world!”by Logan ImansOakridge P.S.Grade 4Who Am I?I’m brown and little and striped.I run and jump and hide .I’m a rodent and living thing and an animal .I sound like a tiny helicopter ,I feel like a little fuzzball ,I move like a squirrel ,and look like a tiny rabbit .I’m as fast as a cat ,and cute as a newborn monkey .I wait for winter so I can hibernate .I long for fresh scrumptious peanuts .I hope for a nice warm place for hibernation .I dream of a GIANT peanut that one day I will own!My name is chipmunk .by Spencer MasonOakridge P.S.Grade 519

2008 DSBN AnthologyDear Mom and Dad,I know that we already have a cute puppy that we all share but I thinkthat I’m old enough to have an animal of my own. I already know what I wouldlike, a seahorse!!If I got a seahorse I know where I could put it. On my desk would be theperfect place because Roxy could not get it and it wouldn’t be in your way.I would do research to see what a seahorse needs. Like those specialaquariums and food. If I had a seahorse I have to be responsible, and that is good.You might ask where I’ll get the money from? Well, I’ll use the moneyfrom my chores.And this is why I want a seahorse.Love,The best daughter ever,MaggyOur Dearest Maggy,We received your letter requesting a seahorse. You are correct, we dohave Roxy the puppy we all share, and you were the one that insisted we neededher as well. In the past you have had an “animal of your own,” remember yourfish? He used to be on your desk too and we would argue that your veryresourceful puppy could find a way to play with this seahorse sitting silently onyour desk. Where exactly would you keep the seahorse’s 3000 brine shrimp hecould eat each day? In the bathtub? Would you be cleaning that “tank” as well?Did you know that seahorses can change their colour to camouflage themselves tohide from enemies? We wonder if you would actually be able to find him in thatthick sea of papers and precious items you call a desk. We did a little research andin all honesty sweetie, seahorses usually die quickly in captivity and are already atrisk around the world, partly because they are exploited for aquarium fishes. Sowe propose we make use of those snorkeling lessons you took and just go findsome in the ocean to look at instead. In the meantime why don’t you work on this,put it behind your fish and pretend!Love,Your devoted parents,Mom and Dad20I Want a Seahorse! — Persuasive Letter by Maggy WatsonJordan P.S.Grade 4

2008 DSBN AnthologyThe Yellow of AutumnYellow is the bright golden sun that shines.Yellow is the stars that shine every night.Yellow is the lightning bolt that strikes during a storm.Yellow is the traffic light telling you to slow down.Yellow is the light bulb that sits in your house.by Kaitlin JamesOakridge P.S.Grade 5by Shannon ScottJordan P.S.21

2008 DSBN AnthologyA Winter PoemSnow is falling everywhere,Snowflakes fill my eyelashes and hair!A blanket of snow covers the ground.Just in time for Christmas Eve.When Santa comes down through thechimney.Wondrous gifts are left under the tree.The exquisite turkey dinner eaten withall family members.Snowmen built by joyful children.Christmas lights guide your way inthe…Blizzard that happened Christmas day.by Gabi MatteiOakridge P.S.Grade 522by Samantha BrayGreendale P.S. — Grade 6Styled after Group of Seven

2008 DSBN AnthologyPotato Stamping - By Snowden ZengGreendale P.S.Grade 723

2008 DSBN Anthology(Based on the book, Last in Line, by Brian Cretney, students were askedto infer what the characters might do, once the king rejected them fromsucceeding him. Karly decided to write about Claire.)After Claire left in a huff,She went to look through her expensive stuff.There must be something in my drawer,To make that king walk out the door.He must pick me as the queen,If he doesn’t, I will scream!Then she searched her closet floor.She searched and searched some more.“I found it!” she screamed in delight.“My dress is totally out of sight!”She went back to the king’s castle,And tried her best to find the chapel.“My king,” she began. “I have money, rubiesAnd dresses galore.Please pick me instead of Lenore!”But the king said, “Not now, not ever,So go back to your house and stay there forever!”So Claire left again, all sad and glum.She would never go back, for that king was dumb!by Karly RuetzJordan P.S.Grade 5Leaves In An Autumn WindLuminious red coloursExhilerating yellow shineAllies with treesVery excitingExtra coloursSkeleton-like trees and leaves24by Mary Haj-AhmadOakridge P.S.Grade 5

2008 DSBN AnthologyRaven Quest(this poem is a summary of the novel, Raven Quest)“What! This is crazy! It’s not me who’s done the crime,Stop it at once! This is a waste of time!”He wouldn’t harm the nestlings; he wouldn't harm a flea,But the court is uninterested, they do not see.They’re dumb, they’re lame,He has to clear his name!Starvation has captured the ravens at home,So far from this nest, this raven must roam.Find the singers, swift and bold,That help the ravens, or so legend has told.A two-leg may aide him when he is lame,But a bird on a quest must not be tamed;Flying north, to and fro,To seek his vengeance, to heal his woe.The singers! They’re wolves! Not great mighty birds!Believe it or not, you must trust my words.The decision is made! Five wolves will come!But the wolves are parting; it is sad for some.Through raging storms, through two-leg traps,Follow the raven’s eyes, for they are your maps.Adventure after adventure, will it never cease?Wolf and raven working together, on a constant search for peace.You’re finally here, finally back,Only to go again, so start to pack!by Jennifer HoggGracefield P.S.Grade 525

2008 DSBN AnthologyThe Land WeaversBefore humans walked the Earth, or anything lived on it at all, it wasbarren and flat, like a never ending plain. Earth was lonely, and wished life to liveupon it.So, upon being gifted with life, the ground burst open and gigantic beastsleapt out. Their scales were pure, hard rock, their fur jagged grass, their eyesflaring gemstones from deep within Earth. Some were intelligent, thoughtfulbeings; others vicious, fire-breathing beasts. Wandering around the once-emptyvalley, they were glad to have it to themselves.As they had sprung from Earth, they, too, had power to create. The wispy,snakelike beast wove across the land, digging gullies with its tail as it flew, andfilling them with the water spewing from its mouth. Another followed and scrapedoff its scales that hit the water with a splash and became a fish. Some beingsplanted their scales in the dirt, growing trees in the once lifeless ground.But one being, the first to spring from Earth, wished for better life, a beingthat was intelligent enough to follow orders. So he sprouted the first men from theginseng root, and the first women from the lily.Once he had created thirty humans, he commanded them to fetch him anapple, as a test to their loyalty. The thirty men and women ran about the world,searching for an apple tree. When they finally found one, they climbed upon eachother’s shoulders, plucked off the largest apple, and returned to their master. Hewas delighted, ate the apple, and fell asleep. But he was too quick to trust hiscreations, for as soon as he was sleeping, they stole food and a pail of water, and ranoff into the world.They forged axes and chopped down Earth’s trees, ate Earth’s food, andran Earth’s rivers dry. The being who had created them was devastated, hisbrothers furious, but, alas, they could not stop the humans. In desperation, hecreated ten more humans to catch the others, but they, too, escaped for freedom.Earth was angry at the greedy and lazy beast who had created humans,and decided to use his own creation as his punishment. She became an old woman,and told the humans of the magics in the world, and how to trap the beasts whotried to use them.The being who had created humans was weeping over what he had done toEarth and his brothers. He did not hear the humans creep up behind him, andbound his tearful form to the clouds, where he would always cry over his mistake.They then bound the river-maker to his own rivers, where he would always trickleacross the land. One by one, they entwined each beast to Earth, slowly taking over.The world was no longer a lifeless plain, but a blooming land, as the beastsbecame the hills, the mountains, the rivers, the sea, and the life living in them. Buteven though they were trapped, woven in with the land, they still attempted tomake life for the humans miserable. They shook the world, lashed at Man’s face inthe air, spewed fire up through mountains, and sent walls of water towards landfrom the sea. But the humans had forgotten Earth’s magics, and could not stop thebeasts. To this day they’ve been ravaging the land of Man, trying to take back whatwas once theirs.by Eve LeveilleGracefield P.S.Grade 526

2008 DSBN AnthologyHow Plains Came To Be(an original myth explaining the origin of plains)A perfect world once resided in a perfect place. No evil ever happened andit was as magnificent as the dreams of a philosopher.The mighty ice god Glacier, rose in power from the north pole and cast aspell that thrust the Earth into a perilous ice age. The cold banished life fromexistence and the world became an endless tundra. The sun now saw no point inrising every day to bring smiles to non-existent faces.Sadness became grief, and grief became anger. As time passed, this angerengulfed the sun and his anger exploded into a huge solar storm.Bam! The ice instantly melted at the equator and Glacier began to cowerin fear. Glacier retreated farther north and as his empire evaporated in front ofhim, fertile land was created. An apple tree could grow in a matter of minutes inthis newly created world. Once again, seas could create a torrent of waves. Onceagain, life would exist in the beautiful forests that had been covered in ice.Today, the sun is calm and Glacier has been banished from existence onEarth, into the far reaches of space where the sun is merely a star like any other.by Nestor NebesioGracefield P.S.Grade 5Space - by Sarah PembertonJordan P.S.Grade 827

2008 DSBN AnthologyDear Mom and Dad,I would love a baby monkey and this is why I totally want a baby monkey.Monkeys are so cute, but imagine a baby monkey! If I got a monkey, Iwould play with it, feed it, love it, teach him to be very smart. I would clean up hisdroppings, and I would absolutely not let him out of my room.I would be very responsible and mature.I would feed him every day and give him water. When I go to school, or ifwe go on vacation, I will let our responsible neighbours take care of him. I wouldalso potty train him.I would teach him how to clean the house so he could help. You couldteach him how to do your job, but he would never be as good as you at your job.For his exercise, we could go to the school across the street and he couldplay on the monkey bars!I think having a monkey would be amazing and I would be veryresponsible, and I wouldn’t leave him alone (unless I have to go to school).I think everybody would love a monkey at church (his name could beJojo, and we could teach him how to play the cymbals).Love,Your Responsible Best Son,Ethan28

2008 DSBN AnthologyDear Ethan,I, too, would love a baby monkey and this is why.Monkeys are indeed cute and especially the babies. So, that’s a goodthing!If we got you monkey, I am sure you would play with it and teach it to bevery smart. So, that’s a good thing!You mentioned the monkey droppings. Well, you see, this is an issue.Like all babies, they are pooping and peeing machines. Most kids are happy toclean up after their pets for a little while. The problem is that pets continue topoop and pee forever and ever, and I don’t think potty training works for monkeys.So, that’s a bad thing.I am sure you would be happy to feed and water him every day for thefirst few weeks. But the thing about living creatures is that they never get tired ofeating, drinking, and little boys tend to get tired very quickly of feeding andwatering others. So, that’s a bad thing.Monkey-sitting neighbours? That’s a good idea. Who knows...they mightgo for it.Now, I would be all in favour of house cleaning monkeys. If we can dothat, we will get a whole herd of monkeys, dress them up in little pink dresses, andstart a business. We could call it ‘Molly Monkey Maids’.A preaching chimpanzee; I am not sure if the church would evenrecognize the switch.I, too, think having a monkey would be amazing, and I know you wouldbe very responsible. I am sure everyone at church would love it too. For now,though, Jojo is going to have to live in our imagination.Boy, he is good at the cymbals, isn’t he?Love you tons,DadHaven’t You Always Wanted a Monkey?Persuasive letter by Ethan BraunJordan P.S.Grade 529

2008 DSBN AnthologyMy Life in TrinidadHave you ever laid on the sandy shores of Trinidad, or seen the brilliantfeathers of the Scarlet Ibis? The gleam of the shimmering dolphins frolicking alongthe side of the boat as you head from island to island? Well I have and this speechwill tell you about the sunny beaches, my personal recollections, Carnival and thecalypso tunes. So just lay back and imagine the ocean waves.It’s wet, it’s sandy, and it’s the beach! Imagine gliding out into the warm,shimmering ocean surrounded by nothing but a deep blue. You could just lay backand let the graceful waves guide you away. I know some of you might say, “Howcan you relax in this heat?” But you can. It’s so reeefreshing! Little childrenWATCH OUT, when a roaring wave thunders over your head. You’d better becareful. Underneath this hustle and bustle is a pest who pinches your toes. Yep,you guessed it, this ‘pinch pinch bite bite’ comes from our friend, the crab.Dry grainy sand—this stuff isn’t like being in the desert stranded in thesweltering heat. It’s fun and clean, it burns your feet, tickles your toes and blistersyour face as the breeze picks up. What provides fruit whistles and gives shade?Why, it’s a tall, lean, graceful, coconut tree. I bet you didn’t know that the branchesform a perfect wheel when you lie under it and look up.Exotic fish of red, orange, green, purple, yellow, black, white, and blue zipby your feet like a rainbow. Clams! Oysters! So many kinds of shells roll out like acolourful carpet along the shores.Caught from the depth the one some call Jaws is being made into sharkand-bakefor my tummy to enjoy. What could never survive this heat? ICECREAM, you know the stuff that melts between your fingers! It couldn’t last fiveminutes without melting into an ooey-gooey, sticky mess.Fun! Excitement! My early childhood recollections! Have you ever beenbitten by a crab? Or captured a toad under a crate? Well, once you have a brotherlike mine you will! He would make me his personal food tester. It was disgustingthe things he got me to eat! But some of the things tasted good. Like French friesin ice cream, and French fries in coca-cola.What’s green, scaly and has no tail? It’s an iguana! My dog Wildy caughtone and had a little munch of its tail when we lived on 10 Mon Coco Road.Crabs are red and pinchy once you touch their claws. All you need is abucket, a crab, and a brother. One day at the beach at Mayaro, my brother caught acrab and told me he had touched it and so, silly me touched its claw. Well...youknow that nursery rhyme ‘12345-Once I caught a fish alive?’ It was the nurseryrhyme come to life but with a crab instead.“Ribbit, ribbit,” this sound makes me laugh as I remember when Andrewand I would go into the back yard at night to hunt toads. Andrew, holding aflashlight, me holding a crate, a pole and a brick...poor toad! When it came by,Andrew would shine the torch at it, and I would drop the crate over it and put thebrick on top. After a while, we would poke the brick off and turn the crate over withthe pole. We would jump and scream as it leapt away at 50 miles per hour.Have you ever been so bored you cut someone’s hair? My soft teddy bearthat I had gotten for Christmas had a little appointment at Amanda’s Barber Shop.Afterwards, his soft, fuzzy hair had been turned into a hair nightmare.“WHOOO…Amanda...we’re coming to get you!” wailed the ghosts in mybedroom. At least, that is what I thought, until one night when my mom came to30

2008 DSBN Anthologytuck me into bed and stayed back doing something. She heard strange voices andrealized that they were coming from the bathroom. When she checked, there wasAndrew, scaring me from the bathroom.For those of you who like rock-and-roll concerts, I have one thing to say toyou: Carnival is way better. It is a huge party with most of the countryparticipating. There are fabulous costumes, sizzlin’ soca tunes, and sweet steelpanmusic. While Carnival is only two days, it starts weeks before, with competitionsand huge fetes (parties). All schools participate with their own celebrations, both atschool and in public. As the festive music lifts your spirits, the adults can enjoysome rum and roti, and the kids can guzzle down some sno-cones!As you can see, my life in Trinidad was filled with wacky adventures,beaches, and fun! So, come visit soon!by Amanda WilliamsOakridge P.S.Grade 5Spring is Broughtby a Jugby Shelly MuPower Glen P.S.Grade 731

2008 DSBN AnthologySleeping UglyOnce upon a time there was a beautiful girl named Lorlie. One day sheinvited her friends over to have cake and to open presents. Suddenly, her motherMay arrived with Chinese food for dinner. Everyone gathered around the table andopened a fortune cookie. Everyone got a wonderful fortune, except Lorlie…One day on Main Street a handsome young Prince overheard two eccentricold men telling each other stories of a beautiful Princess. Immediately he set off tofind this charming Princess.So he went home to prepare for his trek. After gathering food from hishouse, borrowing a sword and a horse from his father, he set off. He trudged allday and all night, until he came to something he didn’t expect. A field of lavageysers, and in the center of the field, towering above them all was an enormousvolcano! Scorched black from multiple eruptions, it stood, gray smoke billowingfrom its top, and for a moment the Prince could swear he saw it take the shape of askull.The Prince heard a rumble.“A geyser must be about to erupt!” he thought.So he got on his horse and sped off. But no sooner had he passed the firstgeyser, then an enormous serpentine creature burst out of it and dove into anothergeyser. The Prince stopped dead and waited. It seemed to take forever but it finallycame and this time it lunged at him! But he was ready and leapt out of the way.The Prince had an idea; he reached into his bag and pulled out his mother’s worldfamous hot sauce. When it lunged at him again, he threw the whole bottle into itsgaping maw. This creature froze and started making a gurgling sound from deepinside its throat. Then it ran off whimpering, and the Prince kept going.He kept on walking until he came to a barren, frozen tundra! “If I don’tget out of here soon, I’ll freeze to death,” the Prince thought. When all of a suddenhe realized he was on a vertical slope! He had to use all of his strength to get to thetop. When he got there, he shoved his sword into the hill and leaned on it.Suddenly he lost his balance and he grabbed his sword but it dislodged itself fromthe hill that seemed to be rising! Ghastly white with dripping yellow fangs andrazor sharp claws, its eyes were red with rage. It was taking an eternal nap whenthe Prince shoved his sword into its back. Exploding with rage from its lair themonster raced off to find another place to rest.“Oops,” said the Prince.The Prince walked for days and days, and more days. At last, he came to ahuge castle that towered over the trees and mountains. When he got there, the skywas midnight blue and the stars shimmered in the night. When suddenly, anenormous dragon broke the serene landscape and dove toward the Prince. Itlanded right in front of the Prince. He stared at it in terror. It breathed itsscorching fire upon the Prince and hit his leg.“Yee-ouch,” he screamed. But he knew he had to defeat it. He limped asfast as he could to the beginning of the bridge, sliced off a piece of rope and tied itto two poles. He placed his sword on it, pulled back and fired...right at the dragon!In thirty-two seconds, the dragon fell flat on its face, dead. The Prince nowadvanced into the castle.The castle was deep and dark. There were eerie paintings hung upeverywhere. The Prince walked on until he found a staircase. It was long and32

2008 DSBN Anthologynarrow, but he still climbed it. It led to a door, but what was inside was verydisappointing. In order to get into the main tower, the Prince had to go through amassive labyrinth. He hit dead ends, went around in a circle a couple of times, andonce, two spiked walls almost crushed down on him. Then he had an idea. Helatched his sword on a chain and pulled himself up. He walked along the walls andwalked through the exit door.The labyrinth lead to one final challenge. The Prince came across a bareand darkened room.“Not very inviting,” the Prince thought to himself. When suddenly, agargantuan demon bird descended to the ground. It possessed such an incrediblemass that it sent a huge tremor through the ground and almost sent the Princeflying off his feet!“Not again,” he thought. He quickly realized that this thing had massivepower! It could shoot scorching fire, freezing water and paralyzing electricity all atonce. Not to mention it had armour all over its body. The Prince put all possibleeffort into beating it, but he couldn’t do it.He had been hit multiple times and as a result his sword and shield hadeither been frozen or burned. The Prince had one final idea. He jumped up on aledge and grabbed hold of a nearby rope. He waited for it to breathe fire, and whenit did, he let the rope burn. Then when it did, he tossed it around the bird’s neck.Then he let its armour burn. In time, the bird fell to the ground. Then the Princeclimbed up the nearby staircase…Slowly and carefully the Prince walked up the enormous staircase. He wasled into a room with dim lighting and pink walls. He walked slowly to the bedwhere the Princess Lorlie was laying. He felt like he had a million eyes watchinghim, but when he finally lifted the veil, he gasped and said, “I came all the way forthis?!”by Connor WilsonOakridge P.S.Grade 5“Imagination is moreimportant than knowledge.Knowledge is limited.Imagination encircles theworld.”Albert Einstein33

2008 DSBN AnthologyFeet of Clay(a poem that summarizes the novel)A murder in Ankh-MorporkOf three withered old menAnd someone’s poisoned the PatricianNo one knows how or whenA murder in Ankh MorporkNot the usual kindThey searched the bodies carefullyWhatever did they find?The old dead priest’s fingernailsLaced with arsenicThe same good ol’ poisonThat made the Patrician sickThey found upon the floorsFresh made tracks, as clear as dayAnd whatever were they made of?Cheap, white, dirty clayAnd imprinted in the old Priest’s eyesThe last thing he ever sawWere two glowing fire-eyesGleaming red, burning rawWhat do these clues point to?Golem’s, they all sayThey have glowing fire-eyesAnd cheap, white, dirty feet of clayHowever could it be these things?For their minds are made of wordsThey may never do harm to a manThey live only to serveThere must be deeper meaningTo these deaths, these horrid crimesSince golems must have mastersSo why not masterminds?34

2008 DSBN AnthologyMaybe something has gone wrongWith the words in their headsMaybe they control themselves nowAnd they want some people dead…How will the Watch catch the culprit?The commander has no clueFor how will he unmask the kills?Whatever can he do?Someone will get away with murderIf Commander Vimes just walks awaySo he must keep on searchingTo find the moulder of the clayby Eve LeveilleGracefield P.S.Grade 5The Word“It’s just a word,” she saidBut it really isCompacted lies,Years of despiseBackstabbing friends,And pretending spiesIt can ruin friendships, ruin lives“It’s just a word,” she said,But she lied.“The two mostengaging powers ofan author are, tomake new thingsfamiliar, and familiarthings new.”Samuel Johnsonby Eve LeveilleGracefield P.S.Grade 535

2008 DSBN AnthologyThe House on Harley RoadLucinda P. Flemgood strutted dully down the street. “Stupid short cut!”she thought. Mother had sent her into town to pick up a couple of things and onher way back she had decided to take a short cut down Harley Road. There wasonly one house on Harley Road and it was rumoured to be haunted. Lucinda didn’tbelieve it, but now she wished she had. If she did, odds are she would be homenow, dry and out of the rain. The rain had started suddenly, out of the blue; theweather forecast hadn’t even called for it.CRASH! Lightening forked the sky. Clop. Clop. Clop. What was that?Through the rain and fog a figure appeared hobbling down the cobblestone street.An old man’s outline became visible and was slowly creeping toward her. Lucindawasn’t sure whether she should be afraid or not. The man was closer now. And shecould make out his sharp features: wispy grey hair, piercing black eyes, a largepointy nose and a thin mouth which was pressed tightly into an angry, hatefulfrown. He was muttering to himself and searching around through a black velvetbag about the size of a grocery bag.“Umm, hello?” The sound of her own voice startled her. The man glancedup.“Who are you and what do you want?” he snapped furiously at her.Lucinda had not anticipated this type of remark. Finally taking a goodlook at her, the man changed the tone of his voice.“My apologies, Miss, I merely mistook you for one of those miserable taxcollectors always hovering about,” he said in a false, kind voice. “Please, won’t youcome in for some tea?”At this he gestured towards the eerie, dark mansion behind him.“You live there?” Lucinda gasped, and although she didn’t really trusthim, she followed the man in (anything to get out of the rain).The door creaked shut behind them and Lucinda was led through a dark,narrow hallway into an enormous sitting room. It had grand pillars and massivecobwebs hanging from the ceiling. The room was empty except for two wingbackedchairs placed in front of a blackened hearth where a crackling fire roared.Cold and wet, Lucinda was drawn to the fire. The man left to get the tea, leaving36

2008 DSBN AnthologyLucinda all alone. Swishhhh! She turned around sharply. Her heart seemed tolurch into her throat. Swishhhh! There it was again. She was panicking now.“H-H-Help?” she called out nervously. Her voice echoed in the vast room.“Buah ha-ha!” a white-faced, fanged man leapt out at her from behind oneof the pillars.“EEEKKK!” Lucinda shrieked. The old man hadn’t gone for tea, he was avampire and she was to be his tea! The evil man cackled and took a step closer toher. This is a dream, this is a dream, she thought. I’ll wake up any minute. Theman moved in and...everything went black.by Madeline MeadePine Grove P.S.Grade 6PerfectMy hair doesn’t always stay in place.My makeup sometimes runs down my face.My shirt’s not always clean.Sometimes I seem sort of mean.I get in trouble,and, yes, I chew gum and blow a bubble.My nail polish sometimes has a chip,and sometimes I slurp instead of sip.Sometimes my jeans are wrinkled,and sometimes my homework is crinkled.I don’t always get enough sleep,and sometimes I start to weep.I love to eat candy,and sometimes I’m not too handy.I would just like to say,“I don’t want to be perfect; I’m better off this way!”by Chelsea RobinsonBertie P.S.Grade 737

2008 DSBN AnthologyDinosaurs Don’t ExistMy brother had a science assignment and left it to the last minute,I had to help him glue and write and put everything else in it,We had to build a diorama of the rainforest trees,With gorillas and lions and snakes, and even some buzzing bees.Then he decided to change it to an island of dinosaurs,So I had to rush in and haggle with all of the dollar stores.I found a few t-rexs and some triceratops,But I couldn’t find the pterodactyl he wanted to fly on top.My brother accepted his loss,And made me the boss.Now it was up to me,To accomplish my tedious duty.And make a project so cleverly divine,That no one would expect it was actually mine.My father said, “It’s getting late,”But I had to help my brother’s schoolwork fate.So we worked through the night,Even by candle light.Until my mother came down and started to frown, “Dinosaurs don’t exist.”So we had to change our whole plan just as the morning sky filled with mist.by Carolyn OatleyBertie P.S.Grade 738

2008 DSBN AnthologySignsAll the signs are there,And, come on, everyone else notices.Okay sign number 1,I get that feeling in my stomach.You know the one I’m talking about,Where it feels like a billion butterflies!Sign number 2,I could be in a packed room,But the one person I’d be looking for is him.That means something, right?Then there’s sign number 3,I think about him so much it’s like his face is duct-taped to my brain.I kind of rather like that, though.Can you imagine pulling duct tape off your brain?And finally there’s sign number 4,When he’s gone I feel lonely,And the only thing I long for is to see him, feel him, smell him.Basically, anything that makes me in contact with him.So I’ve had all the time in the world to think about this,And I think I’ve put up a really good argument, don’t you?Yep, it can’t be anything else.So it’s got to be LOVE.by Sage SampsonBertie P.S.Grade 7The PortWellerPirateCollageBy Mr. Kevin Dyck and hisintermediate students at Port Weller P.S.39

2008 DSBN AnthologySugar Rush“Chocolat-chan! Wake up!” Vanilla shouted from the kitchen.Chocolat groaned and sat up, her bright red hair sticking up.“It’s only 12:00!” Chocolat growled, trudging into the bright kitchen.“Good morning!” Vanilla said, her short blonde hair hidden beneath a pink bonnet.Chocolat mumbled something and grabbed a large blue jar containing cookies. Herhuge forest-green eyes twinkling as she ate 2 chocolate chip cookies.5 minutes later after 2 jars of chocolate chip cookies, 2 large Hershey bars, and ahandful of candy, Chocolat had a sugar rush.“Hey Vanilla! How are you? What day is it? What’s your favourite colour? Huh?Huh? Huh?” Chocolat asked, she jumped onto the oak table in the kitchen.“Chocolat-chan? Are you okay?” Worry could be seen in Vanilla’s ocean-blue eyes.“Wheeeeeee!” Chocolat jumped off the table and ran to her room, Vanilla followed.“SUPERMAN!!” Chocolat yelled.Somehow she managed to put on a superman costume in 3 seconds.Chocolat tried to fly, by jumping off her bed, but ended up falling off her bed andbumping her head.“Ow…” she moaned as the sugar rush disappeared.“Are you alright?” Vanilla asked. Chocolat nodded her head, her cherry red haircovering the lump on her head.“I am never going to eat so much sugar ever again,” Chocolat said. But her emeraldgreen eyes said the total opposite.by Eva Bi Shan HuGreendale P.S.Grade 640Magnetic Clothes PinsDo you have lots of loose papers lying around? Well, if so have I got asolution for you! Magnetic clothes pins! They will stick to any magnetic surface.Some examples of these surfaces are: your refrigerator, chalk board, white board,filing cabinets, magnetic part of your school desk, and your locker at school.Show off your art work or your kid’s art work with these miraculousmagnetic clothes pins. Present good times by hanging up old or recent photos.Hang up an assignment on the fridge for everyone in your house to see the goodmark that you had worked hard for, even mount your grocery list for your family tomake any changes.Look and be organized by sorting papers and hanging them up on amagnetic surface. Make all of that boring paper work in your locker look spiced upand bursting with pizzazz.We have a low price of $1.00 each instead of $3.00 each. On the day ofMarket Place be sure to get your Magnetic clothes pin or pins. Market Place is onJanuary 23, 2008, and only for one day. If all magnetic clothes pins are sold,$24.00 will be donated to the local Humane Society. The Humane Society ofLincoln!by Ellen DewarJordan P.S.Grade 6

2008 DSBN AnthologySponge ToffeeHave you ever wanted something so good and delicious it would makeyour mouth water? Something that is very cheap and sugary? Well, wait no longer,for I have made wonderful sponge toffee.Sponge toffee is candy that will give you the extra zing in your body. Withzero trans fat it is hard to go wrong with sponge toffee. As soon as you feel it startto melt on your tongue your taste buds will start to sing. The great sensation of thesponge toffee will make you think you are in heaven. You can’t go wrong withsponge toffee.If you think that sponge toffee is expensive, you better think again. Youcan buy a bag for a low price of only 75¢, or buy 3 bags for $2. And if you want toknow how to make some. come see me. With an offer like that how could you turndown fabulous sponge toffee?Sponge toffee, a fabulous, delicious, and mouth watering treat that will putthe extra zing into your life. So if you want something good get some sponge toffee.You will never regret it. Sponge toffee, have you felt the bubbles melt?by Ben GadsbyJordan P.S.Grade 7SmoothiesAre you one of the many people who crave something fruity and refreshing?Most people crave sweets such as chocolate covered strawberries and feelgood about eating them because of the fruit. However they seem to forget that it issmothered in chocolate. Well, I have got a solution for you! Instead of convincingyourself you’re eating something healthy, why don’t you just eat a tasty and nutritioussnack, something that will give you a boost of energy and make you feel great.Why don’t you have an A.E Smoothie?A.E. Smoothies are superior to other brands and the best part is they arehomemade! These mouth watering, frothy drinks not only fulfill your hunger butthey’re even beneficial to your health. And even if you are trying to lose a littleweight these marvellous drinks will help you reach your goal weight. A.E. Smoothiesare great for a snack in between meals, a swift dessert or even if you are in ahurry for breakfast. These irresistible smoothies are a great source of energy andpleasure. The smoothies are very enticing when you have a desire for somethinghealthy in addition to drinking a pure delicacy.The first flavour is a perfect blend of strawberries, bananas, yogurt andmilk. The second delicious flavour is mixed berry with raspberries, blackberries,strawberries, yogurt and milk. These scrumptious drinks are a good source of vitaminsand are preferred among many other beverages. Other leading smoothie companiesmake their smoothies with added ingredients that are not mentioned. If youpick up an A.E. Smoothie, not only is the fruit fresh, the smoothies are preparedright in front of you so you can see exactly what is going into it.In conclusion, A.E Smoothies are the right choice if you are looking for anice light snack that will give you a boost of liveliness and make you feel great. Ifyou just want a delicious and sincerely healthy drink then an A.E. Smoothie is theright choice for you.by Ezra ToewsJordan P.S.Grade 741

2008 DSBN AnthologyWhich Makes the Most Sound,a Triangle, Circle, or a Square?Some people I know say it’s a square, others say it is a triangle. The realanswer is obviously the circle.The first obvious reason is that drums are circle shaped, and drums arevery loud. Every time someone beats a drum, people tell them to stop that loudracket. Another example is the wheel. A car wheel without a tire that’s drivingmakes the worst noise on the hard pavement. The real way to show that circlesmake the most noise is one of those little horns on television that when you pressthe button they make a loud noise. Often, you see on television that those hornsturn people deaf when they’re stuck up to people’s ears.Another reason that not everyone thinks about is a metaphor that has justbeen made up. Sound moves around the perimeter of the triangle, square, and thecircle. The longer the sound is moving, the louder it gets. With squares andtriangles, the sound gets loud but then hits the corner and slows down dramatically.With the circle, the sound is able to go round and round in the circle forever. As itgoes round and round, it doesn’t have to stop at corners and therefore it will gomuch louder than either the square or the triangle.The real reason why circles are louder is because, happiness runs in acircular motion, and happiness is very noisy.by Alex DoneyBertie P.S.Grade 7Which has Greater Intelligence,an Exclamation Mark, or a Question Mark?I believe that a question mark has greater intelligence because it shows that theperson wants to learn, and to find out more things. I believe that intelligence in aperson is their eagerness to learn, not how much they already know. Anexclamation mark portrays excitement, not anything very knowledgeable. Aquestion mark could be used in many different contexts, such as the first one thatcomes to mind, to ask a question. But you may also be stating a question, askingsomeone else if they know what you know, for example, “Did you know that dogslike peanut butter?” An exclamation mark is used when someone shows excitementin their voice, which is all fine and dandy, but does that really show greaterintelligence in a human being? Asking a question gives you more knowledge,whereas stating an answer, well, just gives someone else the answer. I will give youan example on my theory. Everyone watches the game ‘Who wants to be aMillionaire’ right? Well, who do you think knows more, the contestants that comeand go stating questions here and there, or the host who is constantly wanting toknow the answers? Therefore, ‘Which has greater intelligence, a question mark oran exclamation mark?’by Carla KuhnBertie P.S.Grade 742

2008 DSBN AnthologyBeing the Middle ChildGarrison, can you help Brandon cut the grass! Garrison, stop picking onOwen just because he’s younger than you! Garrison, move into the middle of thevan to let your brothers in or we’ll be late for hockey!Welcome to my life as a middle child! These are just a few of the things Ihave to deal with every day because I was born in the middle of my two brothers. Inour family, there are five people. My dad Mike, my mom Janet, my older brotherBrandon, me Garrison, and my younger brother Owen. Although all parents saythey love their kids equally, being the middle child definitely has its disadvantages.Having an older brother means I’m never first to try anything new in our family.My older brother Brandon was the first one to play hockey, the first one to go to afriend’s birthday party, the first one to go to school and now the first one to go tohigh school! Although I do get to do all these things, the novelty seems to wear offfor my parents and becomes less exciting for the rest of the family. My parents aresupportive when I get to go through these things, but at that point, Brandon hasusually found something new and more interesting to try once again.Being the middle child also means, I have a brother that’s younger thanme. In our family, that’s Owen. He’s 10 years old and it seems that he gets awaywith everything! Just the other night I was on the computer and Owen comes inasking if he could play on the computer. So, since he’s the youngest and can’t waitpatiently, my parents asked me if he could have a turn. I mean, come on! Did theynot know I was just about to beat my all time high score?And last weekend at the arena we were told no snacks! But sure enough,after my game there’s Owen with a big thing of fries and a hot chocolate! Of courseI did end up getting a snack too, but how does this kid persuade my parents intochanging their minds? I’m telling you he gets away with everything!Maybe, being the middle child does have some advantages though. I amlucky I can learn from my older brother’s mistakes. I saw how much trouble mybrother got in when he came home an hour late after hanging out with friends.That told me to at least call if I can’t be home on time. Also, whenever there’sthings that need to be done around the house, Brandon always gets stuck with thehardest jobs, because he’s older. I like that my parents are more easy going with meand I think because of that I ended up with a much more relaxed attitude towardslife.Also I’m happy that I’m not the youngest because I get trusted with moreand I get to do more things than my younger brother. I’m also glad that I’m not aspersistent as my younger brother because even though it sometimes gets him whathe wants, it can be very annoying.Maybe, being the middle child is the best of both worlds. I’m easy-going,very generous, extremely sociable, and can get along in any situation. I have aneven temper and a “take-it-or-leave-it” attitude. Also, I’m much better at handlingdisappointments. In fact, I’m great at seeing both sides of an issue, maybe that’sbecause I’m in the perfect place for it.by Garrison BarkwayJordan P.S.Grade 743

2008 DSBN AnthologyMy Vacation - Dominican Republic(entries taken from a Travel Journal)Hello, my name is Cassandra Halliwell, I am 13 and my hometown is Ridgeway,Ontario, and for my March Break my family and I are going to Domincan Republicand staying at the Riu Bambu hotel. I have decided to write a journal about my tripfor the 7 wonderful days I will be spending in Dominican.◊◊◊◊◊◊March 6 2008Tomorrow morning I am leaving for my flight with my family. We havejust finished packing and now we are just talking about what we are going to bedoing while we are there and of course my dad planned every minute of ourvacation. “There will not be one minute to spare,” he said. My mom is more of thefree type so anything goes with her. We are leaving on March 7, 2008, at 3:00 a.m.,to catch the plane. We will arrive at the airport at about 6:30 am. Unfortunatelyour flight is approximately 7 hours, 15 minutes, after departure from Toronto.◊◊◊◊◊◊March 7 2008Arriving: As we arrived to Dominican Republic 7 hours and 15 minutesaway from home, we walked off the plane and stepped into a very hot climate so werushed to the station and grabbed a rental car to get to the hotel. We got a nicewhite convertible like Barbie has, and off we went to our beautiful hotel whichreally looked like HEAVEN. I was in love. There was nice clear blue water thatlooked crystal clear so you could see the bottom as much as 15 feet down. My momwalked up to the front desk and got our room key and off we went to our room,number 34. When I walked in I went right to the window. We had a perfect view ofthe water. It was about the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. When we got ourbathing suits on we headed for the beach and spent the rest of the day swimmingand tanning.◊◊◊◊◊◊March 8 2008I woke up at 10:00 a.m. (that’s pretty late for me), but laying in the sun,getting an awesome tan really takes a lot out of you. So my mom and dad were stillasleep; I had a feeling they would be doing that for quite some time, but, oh well.Anyways, I went down stairs with my mom’s wallet and got a nice breakfast ofPastelitos, which are meat or cheese pastry turnovers. After I got my pastry, I wentback upstairs and sat on my parents’ bed and as soon as they smelt my pastries theywoke up in hunger, so I went back downstairs to get a few more Pastelitos.After breakfast we went and reserved some scuba lessons. So we got readyand headed downstairs and took our lessons with Jim Williams and spent most ofthe afternoon scuba diving with my family. At about 12:00 p.m. my mom and Iwent to the snack bar for lunch, and of course my dad went for a nap, or as he says“I’m just closing my eyes.” Anyways, as my dad took his nap we went for lunch and44

2008 DSBN Anthologywe got chicharrones de pollo,which is diced chunks of deep fried chicken.After lunch, me and my mom went upstairs to the hotel room and woke upmy dad, but knowing my dad he wouldn’t wake up, so my mom and I went to themall and got a few souvenirs, such as necklaces. Then we went for a walk along thebeach. About a few hours later from collecting shells me and my mom decided itwould be a nice idea to have a fire on the beach, so this time I ran up to the hotelroom and jumped on my dad, he definitely woke up and thought our idea would befun, so off we went looking for fire wood and we were in luck. We found tons andso we spent our night on the beach watching the waves and sitting by the fire.◊◊◊◊◊◊March 12 2008“Cassandra wake up,” is what my dad said to me. “Time to get up. We aregoing to spend our day on the beach again.” Like, you think you would get sick ofsitting at the beach, but you really don’t when you know that back home you can’tdo that, so you have to spend your time wisely. So, we all got into our bathing suitsand me and my dad headed right for the water and my mom laid down her toweland put on her tanning oil. Anyways, me and my dad played in the water for about5 hours. I don’t know how, but it was unbelievably fun. My parents call me a fishbut I disagree. At 4:00 p.m. we decided it would be a good idea to go for dinner butwe were all too burnt to go out to a fancy place. So we called in room service andhung out in the room for the rest of the night.Ingredients:5lb grated coconut (dried)8lb granulated sugar7.5 quarts of 2% milk1 lb batatas (peeled and diced)2 oz vanilla extract1.5 oz cinnamon sticks◊◊◊◊◊◊DOMINICAN RECIPE:DULCE DE COCO (COCONUT CANDY)To prepare the candy:1. Add dried coconut to the milk and bring to a boil.2. Keep boiling for 5 minutes, then add the sugar and the cinnamonstick.3. Coninue cooking for about 3 hours and then add the diced batatas.4. Continue approximately an hour longer, or until the batatas arecooked and the candy has a dry consistency.5. Spoon coconut candy mix out into balls and shapes that you like.6. Allow to cool completely and then store.by Cassandra HalliwellBertie P.S.45

2008 DSBN AnthologyA Classroom CommunityUnited we stand, divided we fall spoke a Greek fable author. Little did heknow the impact that his words would have on us today. This phrase has been usedby everyone from government officials to students in common speeches, but it hasthe same meaning every time it is used; that if we work together and stay strongthat we can do whatever our wildest dreams let us. A classroom community holdsthe same connection. It is easier to think of a classroom as a group of childrenworking together for the same common goal, like a family. From a young age welearn the basic rules that make a community work; mutual respect for one another,active communication, and an atmosphere of belonging.Respect is key in any classroom community because all of the othercharacteristics of a positive community are directly related to it. If you respect oneanother then there shouldn’t be any feelings of not being accepted by yourclassmates. If you respect others you’ll get the respect in return, which makeseveryone feel like they are part of a team. To get respect from peers makes you feelgood, and gives you more confidence in yourself. This makes the community moreactive in classroom activities.Attentive listening is also essential. Sharing ideas with classmates givesyou a range of different thoughts and also helps strengthen group talks. Listeningand responding to each other makes everyone feel like they are part of an activecommunity. Listening skills as well as speaking skills help make ideas clear andmore noticeable to one another. Nodding and making eye contact with the speakertells that person you are clearly focused on the topic as well as them. This isimportant because you want the speaker to feel like they have a respected opinion.A classroom community is filled with different people, different beliefs,and unique ideas. Everyone should respect each other for who they are, in otherwords no put-downs. No one likes to be left out of a group discussion or be toldthat their ideas are brainless. Everyone’s opinions are different and important inmany ways. It helps you as a student to learn about that particular peer and maybeunderstand them as a person. In doing so, you may understand yourself that muchmore.In conclusion, a classroom community is not just a group of studentslearning, it is a group of young individuals acting as a part of a family. Everyone’sthoughts and opinions make it a diverse learning environment. It is important toremember that respect, attentive listening and speaking, and no put-downs are anessential part of making your classroom a working community.46by Sage SampsonBertie P.S.Grade 7

2008 DSBN AnthologyAre We Really All that Different? — By Janelle PaynePort Weller P.S. — Grade 7“If we strip away race and culture, we as a society will finallyunderstand the true meaning of RESPECT.”47

2008 DSBN AnthologyOutsiders“Sixteen years on the streets you can learn a lot. But all the wrong things,not the things you want to learn.” This is what Johnny said to Ponyboy just beforehe had passed away. This phrase stood out in all the Greasers. There were manythings that the boys learned by being on the streets and there were many things thatthey did not learn.Darry was one of the smartest Greasers there was. He could have gone tocollege or university on a sports scholarship, but that meant that Ponyboy andSodapop, his brothers, would have had to have gone to a boys’ home because oftheir parents’ deaths. For Darry, living on the street and taking care of his brotherscaused him to mature more quickly than the other characters in the book. He wasalso required to take on many more responsibilities. Darry had to act like a parent,while the others could just be kids. Darry was not able to attend university on asports scholarship, not able to be a kid, and not able to learn about the things thatinterested him. All of these prevented him from getting a good job and perhapsbecoming a Socs instead of a Greaser. For Darry, living on the streets taught himthings, just not the things he, or any kid would be interested in.Sodapop was a very energetic and hyperactive brother to Darry andPonyboy. He couldn’t stand doing something for more than ten minutes. That alsoincluded school. For this reason, he dropped out of school at a young age. This wasa problem for him because he was forced to be on the streets and to get a low payingjob at a gas station to help support his brothers. Living on the street taughtSodapop to stand up for himself, which almost always involved fighting instead ofdiscussions. Had Sodapop's parents not died, Sodapop's life may have beendifferent and he may have received the encouragement and support he needed tocomplete school. Sodapop may have been smart like Darry.Dallas Winston was the strongest and meanest of all the Greasers. Hisbrain worked like an invincible destructing robot. All he wanted to do was to beatpeople up. Dallas didn’t care for the whole school idea. He liked what he did and itwas his choice and nobody on earth could change it. Living on the street taughtDallas to be tough, how to be a good criminal and that showing emotions was notthe cool thing to do. Although Dallas cared a lot about Johnny, he knew he couldn’tshow emotions towards him. He had to be tough and mean so that he didn’t gethurt. This was a real problem for Dallas because Johnny’s death was very upsettingto him. He cared for Johnny so much, and couldn’t express his feelings, so he gothimself killed. Had Dallas learned that it was alright to show his emotions andfeelings towards people, he may not have died.48

2008 DSBN AnthologyTwo-bit was exactly like Sodapop. He was energetic, wise-cracking andloved to just be a kid. Two-bit was not that smart and was still a junior in highschool at the age of 18. Living on the street taught Two-bit to stand up for himselfby fighting, and it taught him to be a good shoplifter. Two-bit did not learn when totake things seriously. To him everything was a joke. Living on the street taughtTwo-bit all the wrong things in life.Ponyboy Curtis was a very smart and thoughtful kid, even though he was aGreaser. Ponyboy didn’t want to know how to kill a person; he enjoyed being atrack star, football player, and a brainiac. This is the exact opposite from Two-bitand Sodapop. He loved to pay attention and get good grades while they didn’t. ToPonyboy, living on the streets taught him that you have to be tough and mean andthat shoplifting and killing people were normal. Although Ponyboy did not agreewith this violence, he wanted to be part of the gang and to belong. Ponyboy wouldhave rather paid more attention to school, books, and talking to Cherry aboutsunsets.Johnny Cade was the youngest person of the gang and he was the personwho said the quote “Sixteen years on the streets you can learn a lot. But all thewrong things, not the things you want to learn.” He said this shortly before hisdeath. What he meant by this, was that you can learn a lot about survival whileliving on the street, but what you learn is not always what is the right thing to do orthe right way to act. Johnny got himself into a lot of trouble during his short lifeand had he gone to school, his life may have not ended as early as it did. Living onthe street gave Johnny the time he needed to get into trouble. When Johnny savedthe children from the burning church, he felt better about himself and felt that hehad finally done something right. Johnny wanted to do the right thing and wantedto learn about poetry, but was not given the chance to do this.The quote “Sixteen years on the streets you can learn a lot. But all thewrong things, not the things you want to learn,” can be seen in each of the boy’slives. For some of the boys this quote is more obvious than others. I think theauthor is saying that we need to make the right choices for ourselves and justbecause someone else is doing something doesn’t mean it is right or that it issomething that we should do. I think the author is also saying that it is importantto stay in school and to understand that all people have feelings no matter howmuch money they have or what class they belong to.by Jordan ScreenBertie P.S.Grade 749

2008 DSBN AnthologyCandyOn the night of Halloweenevery kid comes home to see,all the candy, all the sweetsto eat at once and have a feast.These tasty snacks can do no wrongunless you feed on them too long.If you do not brush your teeththe dentist will drill underneath.Rifling through their sacks of candyeating all this would be dandy.Children need their parents’ helpso they don’t eat it in one gulp.Oh me, oh my, I didn’t listenthe candy did just seem to glisten.My stomach hurts, I ate too muchno more candy will I touch.by Jordan ScreenBertie P.S.Grade 7“I was working on theproof of one of my poemsall the morning, and tookout a comma. In theafternoon I put it backagain.”Oscar Wilde50

2008 DSBN AnthologyMemories of the BeachThe waves lapping at my feet,The burning glow of the summer heat,Our names carved into the sand,Which wash away to some forgotten land.A seagull swoops down to catch a fish,As I make my summer wish.That if I could just, within my reach,Keep the memories of the beach.by Carolyn OatleyBertie P.S.Grade 7Once I Held a PoppyOnce I held a poppy,Bright, proud and red.It amazed me that just a single flower,Could represent the dead.I put the poppy next to me,As I thought about the war.Where soldiers died, and families cried,But I didn’t know much more.So I learned about the brave people,Just like you and me,That gave their lives to save the rest,And create a world of harmony.And as I look at the poppy,I feel like I am there.With the bombs and guns and explosions,Coming from everywhere.That poppy helped me learnThat we can’t change the past?But we can remember those who fought for us,To make the peacefulness last.by Carolyn OatleyBertie P.S.Grade 751

2008 DSBN AnthologyTuesday, April 25th:A Day in the Life of a Stone PathToday I am writing by the ocean, watching the sun go down. I can’t helpbut feel a little lonely at this point, no one around me, no one talking. But inanother sense, it is quite peaceful. Sometimes the business of the day can getoverwhelming. Ever since my birth 108 years ago, I have spent many a night justwatching the sun go down. I can’t complain, though. I’ve had a pretty easy life, justlaying here all day, observing nature and humans. I have to say that over the years,I have learned many things. Let me share a few of these observations.12:00 p.m. is easily the busiest time of the day. Everyone running around,either really late for something, or just wanting to be first in line for two or threehotdogs. It seems that no one these days walks slowly. No one wants to enjoy thebeautiful nature of things, such as the way the sea glimmers, or the different typesof leaves on the trees.Everyone is different. And I don’t just mean physically. I have seen andheard enough to gather that no one person has the exact same personality, or wayof thinking. Everyday I listen to arguments, playful chatter and heart-to-hearttalks. From these conversations I have gathered that there are many ways humanscommunicate. Lately, I have even seen people talking on portable devices, knownto humans as ‘cell phones.’Humans have a need to impress. All they seem to say or do is done toimpress other human-beings. They even wear certain kinds of clothes, just so theycan fit in with the other humans. “Silliness,” I say; but then again, who am I tosay? Who cares about the thoughts of an old stone path?by Carla KuhnBertie P.S.Grade 752

2008 DSBN AnthologyThe Banyan Tree - Lili’uokalani Gardens — Watercolour by Sierra BarrettSenator Gibson P.S. — Grade 8“This peaceful and diverse Japanese garden in Hilo, Hawaii, was planted inplace of an area that was destroyed by a tsunami.”53

2008 DSBN AnthologySkateboard and Non-Motorized Vehicle ProhibitionI’ll admit, I’m not a very good kid. You know, the typical stereotype.Failing all my courses, but it’s not my fault. I can’t hear anything my teacher sayswhile chewing gum. I lie through my teeth to anyone. Half my day is wasted sittingin the Principal’s Office, and to top it all off, I’m committing a crime. A real offenseI could be fined for. Most of you know none of this is true. Actually, part of it is.My sport, if I’m not always careful, is considered a crime. Limited to one free skatepark in my city, the only other places worth riding cost fifty dollars and a criminalrecord. Anywhere with a railing and a set of stairs “Prohibits the use of skateboardsunder bylaw number 92-1.”Not only legally is this a disadvantage, but also socially. This comes intoeffect mostly with adults. The stereotype adults and teachers tell us to ignore, theypractice without blinking an eye. Most frown at a smiling skateboarder, then wave“hello,” to a passing cyclist. Partly, this is due to the scene around skateboarding.Not the sport itself, but the non-existent “personality” of the sport is what peoplesee when they see a skateboard. This is not right. The law itself is being bentaccording to mere preferences of its officials. It is true, many skateboarders dodemonstrate a certain fashion and personality, maybe not liked by others. By nomeans are a common skater’s characteristics, physically and verbally, there to beaccepted or liked, but to express individuality which may or may not appeal toanother group.I think restrictions have gone much too far. Private property is by allmeans acceptable to keep anyone off, though sidewalks are meant fortransportation for anyone not in a car or on a bike. Even though skateboarding onthe sidewalks is not banned in my city, the attitude I receive from others is enoughto be a problem. I board down the street in a bike lane, cars honk and drivers yell atme. Eventually, if I take the hint, I move onto the sidewalk where I am dodgingmore angry people. Though, usually I am not bothered when simply riding tosomewhere, throwing an occasional trick when it’s not crowded. Though, the placesI love to skateboard have outlawed skateboarding. The sign only saysskateboarding is banned. Nothing about any other sport. I could jump a set ofstairs with a bike, but not a board? Gravity explains that one for you, it makes nosense.I know we have laws for reasons of safety and I completely agree with mostof them. Punishment for thievery or vandalism is agreeable and police need toenforce these laws. Though somehow, skateboarding is seen differently than bmxriding, inline skating, or any other similar sport. Even to the law, some bylaws andrules seem to be based on stereotypes of people taking up the sport and the scene54

2008 DSBN Anthologygoing along with it rather than evidence. For example, a thirty-five pound bikehitting a rail with metal pegs obviously had potential to do more damage than awooden board. Though, in some cases, laws only see skateboarding as illegal. Forexample, on one school campus, the use of bicycles, rollerblades, or scooters isacceptable, though skateboarding is not tolerated. Bicycle riders do face a similarchallenge as myself, though. Often, both sports are banned for the same reasons.Some cities even go as far as fining anyone for using a skateboard as a mode oftransportation through sidewalks.by Elden YungblutOakridge P.S.Grade 8Dear Mom and Dad,Volleyball is a favourite sport of mine, even though I might miss the ballinside the line. Or just because I messed up on a serve, hit or tip, please don’t gasp,and burn your lip on your coffee. I wish you could see the game the way I do, so themore things you say, the more they’ll be true. Even though my team didn’t win, wewere trying to be precise as a pin. So let me play, not as if I want fame, just rememberwhat they say, “Don’t hate the player, hate the game.” And so in closing here’s atip, remember the name of the game is SPORTSMANSHIP!by Shannon ScottJordan P.S.Grade 855

2008 DSBN Anthology56Drawing Jesse Metcalfeby Felicia MacLeanGrimsby SecondarylGrade 10

2008 DSBN AnthologyWhat Will She Think Of Me?What will she think of me?What will she think when she seesmy personality,The person that I like to beyeah, that’s meIsn’t it plain to see,I really want to know what she wouldthink of me.(Verse 1)I wonder what it’s like when that girlloves you back.I wonder what will happen when shesees I existWhen I ask her to dance, will she?Or will I move on regretting what wouldhave happened if I had?(Chorus)(Verse 2)I really need to find that courage wayin the back of my head,And it’s there todayOne step, then the next, and then onemore.“What do you want?” is what she saidAnd “Will you dance?” is what cameafter.(Chorus)(Verse 3)Now I know what it’s like when thatgirl loves you back.She sees more than I existShe’ll say yes, whenever I askI’ll hold her tight, remembering that’swhat she thinks of me.by Kyle UngerOakridge P.S.Grade 8Before the Fall — Plexiglass etching by Molly PartonFort Erie Secondary — Grade 1157

2008 DSBN AnthologyContinuing Life with a Second Chance of HopeBy tomorrow, at least 12 people in North America who are alive right nowwill be dead. Not because they were in a car crash, or because their time had come.Not even because they weren’t in the hospital, but because they couldn’t be given anorgan transplant in time. 12 people will die because the organ transplant theyneeded was not available. It’s not because they couldn’t afford the operation, butsimply because there wasn’t an organ for them. If everyone became an organdonor, it would create a chance for a new life for someone who needs your help, andmaybe even save their life.Wouldn’t just hearing “you could save a life” convince you to become anorgan donor? But still, some people aren’t convinced, and because of that onedecision, someone that is relying on an organ, won’t be able to get it. By donatingan organ, you are also donating a life. Last year in Canada, over 100 Canadianswere on the waiting list to receive an organ, but only half actually received one. Bydonating your organ, you will be saving a life, and helping someone have a brighterfuture.The easiest way to justify this as a necessary cause is asking one simplequestion, “what if you or your loved one needed an organ to survive?” No, it’s notsomebody else’s problem, it’s your problem! By donating an organ, you will helppeople face this problem everyday, knowing there is hope. Donating an organ willnot make you suffer like you think. You will only give up your organ when thedoctors know that it’s the right decision, and once your time has come. As well,becoming an organ donor will not cost you because only a signature is required,from you and your witness. But most importantly, it is up to your discretion whatorgans you will want to keep, and what organs you will want to donate.Thanks to people that did make the decision to donate, 80-95% of thepatients that received the organs have a great quality of life. And with moretransplants being done, less and less patients are having complications in the yearafter their surgery. Receiving the organ can change the patient’s life forever, andwith your help it is possible.Why wouldn’t you want to become an organ donor? If you know you’regoing to save someone’s life and improve their quality of life by taking a chance todonate your organ, why wouldn’t you? Especially knowing that you would be thereason someone is still living today. Make the right decision, and know that you’remaking someone hopeful that there is a chance to survive. Isn’t that what everyoneshould want?by Mikayla RostsJordan Public SchoolGrade 858

2008 DSBN AnthologyOceanThe ocean is freeNothing is impossibleDive beneath the wavesTo a world smooth and mysticalLike a looking glassTo an unknown realmThe vast blue never ending and trueA haven in the everchanging worldIt is peaceful and sereneLike something from your wildest dreamSo give yourself to the abyssThe ocean will set you freeby Sarah PembertonJordan P.S.Grade 8Foggy GetawayPhotography by Amanda TomlinsonRidgeway-Crystal Beach S.S.Grade 1059

2008 DSBN AnthologyLe Discours—les OlympiquesChaque deux années une bataille est menée et cinquante pays se rivalisentpour la gloire et l’honneur. Jours et Jours d’entraînement, tout le monde pratiquepour leur propre sport. Cette tradition a commencé en Grèce. Qu’est-ce que c’est?Vous trouverez bientôt.Bonjour les honorables juges, les professeurs et les élèves. Ça va vousprendre plus longtemps pour m’entendre lire les prochaines phrases que ça vaprendre les hommes et les femmes de finir la dernière course de 100 mètres auxOlympiques. Probablement vous avez entendu que des Olympiques ontcommencé? Alors, les Olympiques ont commencé à Athènes en Grèce. Ce sont enhonneur de Zeus, le Roi des Dieu qui est le personnage le plus important en Grèce.Les Olympiques sont devenus une GRANDE tradition en 776 B.C.Aux premiers Olympiques les femmes n’étaient pas permises de participerparce que les Olympiques en Grèce étaient très violents, faisaient beaucoup deblessures et c’étaient déclaré un jeu d’hommes. Aussi si les femmes ont été trouvesdans des stades olympiques, elles seraient lancées hors-jeu d’une falaise. Ces sportsdes olympiques en Grèce consistent des événements long de chemin, un pentathlonqui est les courses, la lutte, la saute longue, le javelot et le disque. Aussi, les coursesde chevaux, les courses de char et de différents types de lutte font partie du circuitdes Olympiques. Mais un type de lutte qui m’intéresse beaucoup, est le match oùtout est permis à partir de mordre, casser les doigts et arracher les yeux. C’était trèsviolent en Grèce!Laisse moi présenter une vraie personne très importante dans la fondationdes olympiques, Baron Pierre de Coubertin, sans le Baron les Olympiquesn’existaient pas. Après 261 A.D. il n’y avait plus de rapports des gagnantsOlympiques, donc on ne sait pas pour certain quand les anciens jeux sont venus àun arrêt. En 393 A.D. L’empereur chrétien Théodosien a décrète que tous centrespaïens étaient fermes et Olympie a été enfin abandonnée. Baron a eu un rêve derapporter les jeux. A une conférence des sports internationaux, tenus a Paris en1894, Coubertin a mis en avant une résolution pour ranimer les jeux. Alors, deuxannées plus tard le roi de Grèce a déclaré ouvert les premiers jeux Olympiques del’ère moderne. Pendant les 100 années prochaines les jeux olympiques ont grandigraduellement dans l’occasion sportive fabuleuse que nous savons aujourd’hui.Maintenant les Olympiques sont connus par les stades et l’équipementmagnifique, tel que les chaussures, les vêtements, les bicyclettes, les patins et lescourses. Les stades sont fabuleux mais, pensez à l’environnement pour un instant.On bâtit les stades et ils sont utilisés pour les Olympiques. Mais après qu’est-ce quiest arrivé aux stades? C’est un gaspillage et ça blesse l’environnement. Chaquedeux années les Olympiques prennent l’estrade. Ils changent de l’hiver à l’été avecun mélange de sports. L’entraînement est long et difficile pour les participants.Les Olympiques sont grands et ils sont un symbole et un devise. Le symbole desOlympiques est 5 anneaux qui représentent les 5 parties du monde qui participentdans les sports. Le devise en latin est Citius, Altius, Fortius veut dire plus rapide,plus haut, plus fort.Maintenant les jeux d’hiver et d’été sont tenus dans des années différentes.Les évenements de sport ont seulement du attendre deux années pour encouragerde nouveaux héros. Des milliards de spectateurs mondiaux regarderont les60

2008 DSBN Anthologyévénements qui déplient. Il y aura des triomphes et des désastres, des controverseset de records battus. Mais n’importe quel résultat, les athlètes se souviendront quece n’est pas seulement le gagnant qui est important, c’est d’avoir participé quicompte.par Mitchell ThibaultLakeview P.S.Four Shots on Goal — by Billy MorrisonNiagara District — Grade 1161

2008 DSBN AnthologyQui a Profité le Plus de la Traite des Fourrures?Quand les Européens sont arrivés à la Nouvelle France les Européens etles Autochtones ont commencé la traite des fourrures. Qui a profité le plus de latraite des fourrures? Je crois que les Européens ont profité le plus de la traite desfourrures parce qu’ils ont reçu des fourrures qui ont eu plus de valeur. Aussi lesEuropéens ont gagné la confiance des Autochtones alors, les Autochtones ontpermis Européens d’utiliser leur terre et leurs ressources.Ma première raison pour laquelle je crois que les Européens ont profité leplus de la traite des fourrures est parce qu’ils ont reçu les fourrures qui ont eu plusde valeur. C’est très important parce que les Européens ont reçu les fourrures quiont eu plus de valeur que les choses que les Européens ont donné aux Autochtones.Les Européens pouvaient fabriquer les fourrures en des chapeaux de castor. Leschapeaux de castor étaient important parce que les chapeaux ont été à la mode et ilsétaient un symbole de statut sociale. Plus, les chapeaux de castor ont donné lepouvoir et le respect d’autres Européens. Aussi, les Européens pouvaient utiliserles fourrures pour la chaleur en hiver. C’est important parce que les Européensn’étaient pas habitués aux températures froides en hiver à la Nouvelle France. LesEuropéens ont pu utiliser les fourrures pour fabriquer lds vêtements.Ma deuxième raison pour laquelle je crois que les Européens ont profité leplus de la traite des fourrures est parce que les Européens ont gagné la confiancedes Autochtones alors, les Autochtones ont permis aux Européens d’utiliser leurterre et leurs ressources. C’est important parce que les Européens pouvaientformer une communauté et ils ont construit des fermes. Aussi, les Européens ontutilisé le bois des arbres pour construire les bâtiments. Les ressources que lesEuropéens pouvaient utiliser étaient les fruits sur les plantes, les poissons dans leslacs, les médecins, la viande des animaux et les minéraux très précieux commel’argent. Les fruits, les poissons et la viande des animaux étaient très importantsparce que les Européens pouvaient manger ces ressources. Les médecins étaienttrès importants parce que les Autochtones savaient comment faire les médecins àbase de plantes qui étaient très efficaces. Les minéraux très précieux commel’argent étaient très importants parce que les Européens pouvaient vendre cesressources.En conclusion, les Européens ont profité le plus de la traite des fourruresparce qu’ils ont reçu des fourrures qui ont eu plus de valeur. Aussi, les Européensont gagné la confiance des Autochtones alors, les Autochtones ont permis auxEuropéens d’utiliser leur terre et leurs ressources. Parce qu’ils ont reçu desfourrures avec plus de valeur, les Européens pouvaient utiliser les fourrures pourdes chapeaux de castor.C’est important que les Européens ont gagné la confiance des Autochtonesparce que les Autochtones ont permis aux Européens d’utiliser leur terre et leursressources parce qu’ils ont formé une communauté et ont utilisé les médicins desAutochtones. Cela est pourquoi je crois que les Européens ont profité le plus de latraite des fourrures.par Alyssa KramerMcKay P.S.Grade 762

2008 DSBN AnthologyHérosLes hérossont les peuplesqui jour après jourse sacrifientet maintenant ils sont morts.Chaque fois dans les guerresils peuvent perdre leurs maisonsleurs familles et leurs vieset c’est tout sans raison.La plus grande raisonet je promets, c’est toutest pour avoir la libertépour nous.Alors, le onze novembreportons des coquelicotspour nous souvenirde nos héros.par Grace BannermanQueen Mary P.S.Grade 8Le Chat et la LunePremièrement, le petit chat qui est gris et brun regarde dans l’eau et il crie,“Au secours! Au secours!”Puis, le chien entend le chat et il se réveille dans sa maison de paille et ildit, “Qu’est-ce qui se passe?”Le chien met sa patte dans l’eau. Il veut aider la lune mais il ne peut pas.Alors, il est très triste, et le chien et le chat courent à la maison du mouton. Lemouton dort et soudainement il se réveille. Le mouton met sa patte dans l’eau. Ilveut aider la lune, mail il ne peut pas. Alors, il est très triste.Le chat, le chien, et le mouton courent à la maison du cheval. Maintenant,le cheval se réveille. Il met sa patte dans l’eau, et il veut aider la lune, mais il nepeut pas. Alors, il est très triste et il pleure.Enfin, le chat, le chien, le mouton, et le cheval vont au château. Le roi dortdans le château. Le roi se réveille. Le roi ne met pas sa main dans l’eau. Le roiregardent le ciel et les animaux regardent le ciel, et les animaux regardent le ciel.Ils regardent la lune en ciel! Les animaux dansent et chantent parce que tout lemonde est tellement content! Les animaux embrassent le roi. La lune continue àbriller tout le temps!par Autumn Stavrou et Hailie CrowePrince of Wales SouthGrade 563

2008 DSBN Anthology64Comedy & Tragedy — by Sheila LoewenEden High — Grade 10

2008 DSBN AnthologyVeux-tu aller au Carnaval?L’histoire a commencé au café,Où Suzie et Sandra ont parlé.François a regardé,Derrière la porte du café.François a vu son ami,Roch qui aime beaucoup les filles.Roch a parlé avec une fille dans le miroir,L’aide c’est que François veut avoir.Roch a donné un chapeau, un chandail, et des lunettes de soleil,Et François pense que les filles vont l’adorer.François est allé dans le parc où il a vu Suzie,Mais elle n’est pas son amie.Tout à coup son ami Martin est arrivé là,Il a donné de l’aide que François a voulu, c’est ça.François a parlé encore avec Suzie,Mais elle n’aime pas les garçons qui ont de gros muscles, oui.François a parlé avec sa grand-mère,et elle a dit ce qu’il devait faire.François a vu Suzie dans la nuit avec des fleurs,Mais elle n’a pas voulu des visiteurs.François a dit qu’il n’était pas cool ni fort,Et Suzie a pris les fleurs que François lui apportéesSuzie a demandé si François voulait aller au Carnaval avec elle,François qui était excité a dit oui à la belle.par James LoewenGlynn A. Green P.S.Grade 865

2008 DSBN AnthologyLouis La GrenouilleIl était une fois, une grenouille qui est tout vert. La grenouille s’appelleLouis, et il porte une casquette orange. Louis est un animal très spécial. Il jouebeaucoup d’instruments, mais son favorit est la guitare électrique, parce qu’il penseque le bruit est fantastique! Aussi Louis est un chanteur super! Mais Louis n'estpas content parce qu’il n’a pas d’ami. Le grand désir de Louis est qu’il a une filleamie qui est très belle est joue du tambour.Un matin, louis nage dans son étang. Il regarde quelque chose qui est sousl’eau. Louis es très surpris quand il comprend ce que c’est. C’est une lampe d’or!Louis frotte la lampe quelquefois parce que la lampe est mouillée.« BAAM! » Un génie sort de la lampe avec beaucoup d’enthousiasme! Il ales cheveux noirs et il porte un veste bleu et des pantalons rouges. Louis a trèspeur, alors il recule très vite. Le génie sourit et dit:« Je suis un génie! Pourquoi est-ce que tu as peur? Je suis très gentil! »Louis est nerveux, mais il avance et commence à parler avec le géniemystérieux.« Salut génie, est-ce que tu fais de la magie? »Le génie répond: « Bien sûr! Est-ce tu veux quelque chose? »Louis pense et pense. Tout à coup, il a une idée! « Oh génie! Je suis toutseul. J’ai besoin d’une amie, je veux quelqu’un qui aime ma musique! Mais jepréfère une fille qui est une chanteuse de la musique rock. »« Tu veux ça? D’accord! Commence à marcher dans la forêt et bientôt, tupeux trouver une amie! A plus tard! Voilà, POUF! » Tout à coup, le géniedisparaît!Louis court vers les arbres et entre dans la foret. Le soleil brilleaujourd’hui, quelqu'un. Derrière Louis il y a une fille! Elle est une ballerine est elleporte une robe rose et des souliers rouges. Louis est très excité. Il pense que peutêtreelle veut devenir son amie. Louis marche vers la fille et dit:« Bonjour! Est-ce que tu aimes la musique? »La ballerine dit avec une façon très snob: « Oui! J’adore la musique etaussi, je danse! »Louis est très excité quand il dit: « Est-ce que tu veux écouter mamusique? Je veux jouer une chanson pour toi! » Il commence à chanter et jouer saguitare électrique. Quand il arrête, la ballerine crie:« Tu es horrible! Je déteste ta musique! Je n’aime pas le bruit! Je ne veuxpas devenir ton amie! Au revoir! » Elle part.Maintenant, Louis est tellement triste. Il pense que la ballerine est trèsméchante. Tout à coup, il voit un insect vert sur la terre. La nourriture favorite deLouis est les insectes sur une pizza. Il prend les insectes et mange. C’est délicieux!Louis continue à marcher. Il regarde autour de lui. Tout à coup, il entendune femme qui change. La voix est très forte et très haute. Louis trouve lachanteuse et dit:« Bonjour Madame. Je pense que tu aimes la musique. Est-ce tu aimes lamusique rock? »aLa chanteuse est très fâchée parce qu’elle déteste la musique rock! Elle dità Louis:« Tu es très stupide! Je n'aime pas la musique rock! Humph! Bonnejournée Monsieur! »66

2008 DSBN AnthologyLouis est très, très triste maintenant. Il veut pleurer. Il commence à partirpour son étangBAAM-BAAM! Il se cogne avec une fille grenouille. La fille porte unechemise rose et une jupe noire. Louis pense qu’elle est très belle. Il dit ça La fillegrenouille rit et dit:« Merci beaucoup! »« Je m’appelle Louis. Louis la grenouille. Et je joue de la guitareélectrique! Comment t’appelles-tu? »« Je m’appelle Gabby. Gabby la grenouille. J’aime la musique rock aussi!Et je joue des tambours! » Elle prend ses tambours de son grand sac et ellecommence à jouer. Louis joue son guitare avec elle. Ils dansent et chantent aussi.Quand ils arrêtent, il est minuit. Il y a des étoiles et la lune dans le ciel. Louisdemande à la fille si elle veut visiter son étang et elle dit oui. Elle prend la main deLouis et ils marchent pour son étang ensemble, et tombent en amour!par Rimsha KahnKate S. Durdan P.S.Grade 8by Jeff BrownBeamsville DistrictGrade 1067

2008 DSBN AnthologyAnimal SilvestreSoy mamiferoVivo en la selvaCorro muy rapido,Soy oro y negroSoy rayado,Y soy pesadoSoy muy grande,E inteligenteGrande es mi cabeza,Y pequeño mi cinturaSoy arisco,Con cuello largoComo la carneY soy inteligente¿Quien soy?Ridde by Mahabad PalaniSt. Catharines CollegiateGrade 1168The Leopard — Watercolour by Devon MilinkovichA. N. Meyer Secondary — Grade 11

2008 DSBN AnthologyJirafaSoy jirafa delgado,E inofensivoTengo cuello largo.Y soy cariñoso.Vivo en el terrestre,Soy animal salvaje.Soy muy rápido,Tengo un rabo.Soy vegetariano,Y soy pesado.Soy Africano,Marrón y amarillo.Me gusta ser alto,Pues el hombre es bajo.Soy jirafa.by Golestan IrandostSt. Catharines CollegiateGrade 11Giraffe Gazing — by Meagan BourdeauLakeview P.S.“I made this piece for a Grade 5 artassignment. It was entered in theLincoln County Fair and I won first!”69

2008 DSBN AnthologyLouis le FantômeVoici l’histoire de Louis le fantôme. Louis habite dans la maison hantéeavec Clifford le gros chien rouge et Arthur. Louis déteste Clifford et Arthur. Alors,Louis marche dans la forêt.Louis voit un chapeau noir derrière un arbre. Louis dit, “Ça c’est bizarre.Qu’est-ce que c’est?”Louis prend le chapeau et dit, “Abra Cadabra!”Tout à coup, un lapin sort du chapeau, et elle dit, “Voilà, et moi j’aime lescarottes!”Louis dit, “S-s-s-s-salut...je ne vois pas un lapin qui parle!”Le lapin dit “Je suis spécial, je peux donner quelque chose, si tu veux?”Louis dit, “Je sais! Je veux un animal! Je veux quelqu'un qui aime êtreavec moi!”Le lapin sourit, “Alors Louis marche dans la belle ville et là, bientôt tu vastrouver un animal au magasin d’animal.” Tout à coup, le lapin disparaît. Louis atrès peur. Louis dit, “Où es-tu? Lapin!”Louis commence à marcher dans la belle cité. Il voit un animal! Ça c’estun chien!La chien dit, “Woof woof!” Louis dit, “Bonjour, tu aimes!” Mais, le chiendit, “Rrrrrr...roof! Grrr!” Louis á peur, et il court et court.Louis continue à marcher, tout à coup, il voit une souris. La souris dit,“Squeek, squeek!” Louis dit, “Bonjour petite souris, tu…” La souris dit, “Rrrr,squeek, grrr...Je déteste les fantômes!!” Louis a très peur encore, il court et court.Il marche dans la belle ville et il voit le chat du fantôme. Le chat dit,“Meowwww!” Louis dit, “Bonjour chat, tu veux aller avec moi?”“Oh j’aime aller avec vous! Et toi?”“Oui!”Tout à coup le lapin apparaît. Il est très fier parce que Louis et le chat dufantôme court et court à la maison de Louis le fantôme avec Clifford et Arthur, et lesquatres personnes sont content!par Courtney Harper, Melissa Richards,et Ashley HodgsonPrince of Wales SouthGrades 7/870

2008 DSBN AnthologyNorthern Cottage View — by Myra PisanoThorold Secondary — Grade 11“Painting is silent poetry.”Plutarch, Moralia71

2008 DSBN AnthologyDaze In Confusionby Ingrid GarzonNiagara DistrictGrade 9“To create an emotionalresponse through line andcolour.”Quarter Past NineSculpture by Aaron HewittGrimsby SecondaryGrade 972

2008 DSBN AnthologySculpture by Mrs. Magdolene Dykstra, A. N. Myer SecondarySculpture by Lorne Reitzenstein, Grimsby Secondary — Grade 1273

2008 DSBN Anthology74Doodles from Mrs. Krista Miller atThorold Secondary

2008 DSBN AnthologySnow ShovellingThe snow came. We shovelled. It was Valentine’s Day and suddenly allthe DSBN teachers found themselves with a snow day. It was a wonderful surprise;a gift of time to spend with family at home, and also time to shovel some snow!Shovelling can seem overwhelming after a big storm but this time theflakes were light and fluffy. When you start at your front doorstep and work yourway out, before long you can see a path emerging. The best way to tackle a huge jobis to put one foot in front of the other and just start pushing snow. Before long youwill find yourself getting into a rhythm, planning how to conquer the remainingarea more efficiently and plodding along, until exhausted, the job is finally done.Some people prefer to wait until the snowflakes subside, thinking they willonly have to shovel once. Experienced shovellers know that the weight of snow canbuild up and they are more willing to shovel numerous times. Besides keeping theworkload more manageable, the clean look helps them feel more successful.As teachers, each September we see the children come. We connect andwe teach. That is our mandate; our job - to see each child experience success as weguide them in new skills. Our job can also feel overwhelming, especially when weanticipate some of the little “storms” coming our way. Some days we see progress,other days things seem to regress. Yet, as we go step by step, concept upon concept,we give each of our students what they need from our own personal toolbox ofstrategies and strengths.What about working with others to get the job done? Somewhat likeshovelling with a spouse, conflict can result from seeing things differently andtackling the same job with differing styles. It’s easy to give up when we keepbumping into each other! Yet if we can take time to communicate, to respectanother’s strengths (which are often our own weaknesses), we will be able tocelebrate much sooner a job completed.Not all snow is the same to deal with. Some heavy, wet snow will requirebringing out the high powered snow blowers. Without this technology, theimmenseness of the job will quickly discourage and strain our resources, even tothe point of injury. Experienced teachers know that there is nothing wrong withadmitting weakness and asking for help. Only as we begin streamlining ourworkload and supporting each other more actively, will we begin to see the light atthe end of the tunnel.Experienced teachers also know the stamina and adaptability needed tonavigate change in this profession. They know that bunkering down in ourindividual classrooms will not make new challenges go away. Rather, collaboratingtogether honestly, narrowing our school focus to just one thing for a period of timeand getting outside support will help reduce our stress.We need to have more time to learn from colleagues at similar schools whohave already tackled some of these hurdles successfully. There are things beyondour control to change, like family situations that seem to undermine our work.Much like the city snowplow that finally comes through and plugs up the end of ournow clean driveway, we can only pick up our shovel once again, knowing that itshouldn’t take as long this time around.Ms. Kristine CrumbE. W. Farr P.S.75

2008 DSBN Anthology76The ChairCumulus clouds emerge from the northwestern horizon to address the skywith visions of teddy bears and ancient cirrus sailing ships. From dancing poodlesthat shift change into spirals of universal big bangs, it opens a mode of dialoguebetween two men, a dad and his son. The knowledge of the sky and the shores ofthis unique glacial lake have always been their bond to family, friends, lovers andGod. From common ground, on a common dock, between two very uncommonmen, an exchange of verve will commence. As with all men, chatter of weather andboyhood memories must open the doors to the depths perceived by few for reasonsknown only to mothers and those who raise them.“If you were given a choice, and God offered you life or death...” with along pause that always ensured Ben’s big finish, “Well? Phil, life or death whichdoes he offer?”“Silly question dad,” as Phil pondered the choice, as he gives the illusion ofobtuse innocence and hopes to change the banter to weather, as soon as possible.“Yeah I suppose”. But this was not just a truth never to be known. As thesky bristles with hues of violet that even his son would notice.“Like those colours?” as Phil continued to work the dialogue back toweather, a place in time and essence where he had complete trust in his fathersknowledge.Ben supposed with a thought of how this sky seemed especially ominous tohim but to his son, it appears as just another beautiful sunset.“Did you hear that dad?” as hint of waves slapping the deck reminds himof thunder in the distance.Boyhood memories are jarred open with the sun scattering its beamsacross the tree tops as if to whisper the same question repeating at silences thatwere deafened with memories of thunder. Or, was the sounds on the deck whichignited his memory of a vicious storm they endured on the lake while canoeingwhen he was but a teen. The sharp sounds in the distance always brought back howscared, yet stalwart, he felt after they survived such a life threatening experience. Itbrought them together as only a father and son would understand.With tears and laughter of how that day transpired, they always agreedhow they could have died together as men were meant to perish, with fear in theireyes and love in their hearts. Fathers and sons know this to be true, and continue toembellish such tales told late at night during campfire tells.“What?” He knew his son was flashing back to some 30 years ago on thelake. It was a minor squall but to Phil it was the gale of the century. For a 13 yearold, on his first excursion on the lake with dad, the waves were ten feet high!“Count off how many seconds between bangs and we can figure how manymiles away the storm is.” This lesson was taught on that trip and many others tofollow. They had built a friendship from a deep well learned respect for nature andwhat it commands from each of us personally. It challenged them both to be part ofwhat was truly God creation, Mother Nature.It seems this talk of weather bonds since it affects so many and ties us tothe sky and earth with precise emotions. Bonding us to each other for sheltering,changing seasons and so many other basic needs. We ask and discuss our experiencesof weather as if we know the reasons why and this insecure knowledge beingshared and renewed daily, should be of no surprise to anyone.“Son, it’s just waves, on the dock, silly.” It always amazed Ben how sounds

2008 DSBN Anthologywould trigger such vivid auras of memory as if placed in our eyes to be seen withcolours only known to an impressionist pallet, always changing but true. The skywas painted with these tints tonight, as those from Monet in strokes with meaning,yet scattered by the winds into the truest of memories. This night they would reflecta reality that all artists endure to understand and express, death is life.Yellow and orange rays from this mid summer’s night sun surrounds thetrees as if ready to fall from their own weight. The air is filled with the hordingsounds of bullfrogs in their last breath to the pines. Such scents of late fall leaveyour nose to tingle with a wet freshness of old moss.“Cirrus, means bad weather for awhile, right Dad?” Like he needed to asksuch questions, his dad was a geographer and teacher. What a question, he thought,after it slurred from his thoughts to regain a weather conversation. What was hereally asking? The true question was far more enduring to the meaning of this lateevening stall. Were these clouds indicating his father’s well being?“Yes it does, sooner than expected this year. The storms are rolling insooner than expected.” This weighted answer was not the normally whimsical responsethat allowed them to start putting away the Muskoka chairs. Yet, somehowthis unexpected response was in a tone that gave a hint of speculation as all weatherdoes.Phil thought to himself how his dad always answered with a positive andstill left room for another question. All his life he felt his task was to learn and shareas his dad had done for so many years with class after class. Imagine more than100,000 students had the opportunity to share his dad and yet there was alwayssomething unique left over for him. He never felt short changed.“Yeah, guess the sounds could be the stupid frogs again. Sooner this year itseems. Like the storms all connected I guess” No conversation ever followed logicrather just the inner thought of each connected in some dance of memories shared.Phil recollected how he and the local cottagers tried to exterminate the entire populationof bull frogs through a unique capture and release program. They soon discoveredhow versatile amphibians could be under duress. Within days the frogs hadfound their way home with what seemed hundreds of friends for a mating season ofa magnitude the local paper took note of with a front page story.The caring for the lake, for his dad, was a lesson learned through trial anderror, many errors. It seems these noisemakers of the night also eat mosquitoes,which he hated even more. Let live, soon became the only true lesson of nature, asthe balancing of needs is a process of caring for all creatures even those with naturalnoise makers attached.“Think you’re right about that one son. Think so.” Ben thinks for a momentand pauses as he has something to say and this speech will be the best of all.He shivers for a moment as Beth’s soul passes through him to give courage for hisjourney back to her. Memories fly of how day after day she was there beside him inthe chair. These chairs were for them, from lovers through rampaging children toadolescent antics. These chairs were their soul of character for this cottage of family.“Many things happen sooner this season, son. Sooner than we had hoped.”“You know you’re right” He felt a tingle on his arm from the touch of hisfather. This time his father’s hand felt cold and looked grey. Yet, the warmth it providedwas searing hot as it penetrated through his bones. Darkened rumours of hismother and father shadow the light as it reflected off the deck. The traditionalThanksgiving closing by family was chilled this year by her absence. Nature calledwith the echo of the loons in the distance. His mother would always stop the chores77

782008 DSBN Anthologyand listen to what can only be described in her words. He never faulted when herwords crossed his lips.‘With a flight that angels must grace, they weave the sky with the soundsof a symphony tuning for the fifth. They down the burnt skies as they kiss andshake each protecting as with a ballet without lead or mimic, the guards will scatterin the wind and water. With black and white chevrons they offer a vista ofgestures stealthed to wind and sky. As with all nature its secrets are heard butrarely understood.’The sky grows dim as her words echo from those spoken at a funeral justmonths ago. A tear wells, but not broken. The shatters of grey and pink offeredwith jet trails to some foreign land give both men a moment to remember what haspassed between them, a mother, a wife and most of all love.The breeze stops as the sun shutters into the tips of the trees. As if holdinga last breath for the morning call. The calm waters now offer a reflection of everythingin view. Phil asks again why the rest of the family is not here to help.“Dad, why aren’t Margaret and David here to help this year?”Ben shrugged his shoulders and offers a grunt as fears gathered for thefirst time, to tell a truth. Just one more precocious moment was needed, or maybewanted, before so much must be told.As the reflection became crystal clear in all directions, each ripple dawneda new aspect of the scene as if cut from angles similar yet unique to each scene. Itreminded him of an art assignment he gave in grade eight but this was in motion.He thought how was it possible so many memories were attached to such a smallimage of instant satisfaction?Phil reaches to touch Ben’s hand.“Dad, I truly loved all the times we spent here. We all knew you and momgave up so much for us to have these memories, year after year.”“Well, not give up actually. We made choices for us that affected you. Yourmother and I only hoped that those memories would remain true for many generationsafter we had left.” Ben knew this statement rang true as Beth seemed to bepresent in him, around him, even in his breath.“What ever you have to say dad, well I already… it will affect us all formany years to come. You never have to say it, as we always knew, always willknow.” Phil’s eyes still dampened from his mother’s thoughts. He closed his eyes tothe darkened grey with a blink that seemed to last forever.I knew at that instant that my death was meaningful and would be in itsown time. Phil knew me, better than I ever expected. The truth was not how to die,rather where. Where to spend my last moments? Home, where was home? It alwayscame to the place where memories were richest with Beth and the family. Thecottage was my home. It enabled me to be aware of nature and teach my childrenlessons only possible with the stars streaking across the sky as a blanket of suns canonly be seen. This is where we played as family, as friends, as lovers. The cardgames that became life’s lessons taught us fair play while being haunted by theloons who danced with whispers in the mist, as ghosts must talk in castle keeps.Life and this family was like that, pure, exact, precise yet completely chaotic.Colon cancer was terminal but life was not? Chaos defined us, it seems. I livewithin these trees, within the refection they offer each and everyday. My printsgrace the timbers of this dock and this chair. To the rocks that fill the walkway, mysweat and often my tears are dripped between each stone levelled. The cottage isdefined within me, my family, our friends, especially my son Phil. He knows why we

2008 DSBN Anthologycare for nature as one of our own. He will care for me, this memory of me.Phil decides if he gets moving, maybe the closing of the cottage won’t haveto be done in the dark.“Dad you’re flying low. Dad…?” Phil notices his hand on dad’s arm is stilland motionless as with all around him.The pinkest sky I have ever seen, parades across the clouds which aredancing between the purple and grey shadows reflecting each hue in variations until…God I truly hate pink! I don’t remember anything but that sky, the yellowingtrees all reflected in patterns which cascaded through my son’s eyes as he stareddown at me. I was no longer there for him. I would be part of the trees, the loon, thewater, the frogs and even the dock holding his children someday in the future. Iwant to hold him tight as fathers rarely do, never leaving his side, always beingthere, will be as it should be.The purple darkens to black water only to reflect the last birch stand. Theblue was filled with melancholy, yet offer a redden song of delight. Whispers betweenthe crickets and still water offers but one hesitation. I gasp a last breathfilled with a moan and with stars in my eyes my light is clear to follow.Clinging to the marble shape of each cloud, a sigh of rosen pink shades myfather’s skin. It gives way to a solace blue with each stroke in itself gasps with him,from me, never to repeat the same. All is done.Phil’s breath is visible in the cool autumn air. He gathers the last Muskokachair, but hesitates staring off into the blackened water. It seems like just a momentago that his father braced these chairs with him so many times in the past.The presence of his father would never leave as though sympathetic with nature’svibration of fall winds offered. This northern view was his father. The words to carefor the land as you care for me resonated within him as the gaze into the greying skyleft him deep in thought. Some day those words will be repeated to a new generation.“Dad, are you going to be all day, man.” William sighed with wonder ofwhy his dad was taking so long taking the last chair from the dock.“William, ” Phil yelled up the walkway.“Yeah, Dad, what did I forget this time.” William was feeling lost as he wasnew at this cottage thing, well, new to doing the work part anyway.“Remember to care for this land as you would care for me.” The wordscame out of his mouth but not as his own. The blank greyness of the chair seemedalive with tones of yellow and pink that offered a memory so vivid that his stancewas frozen with his hands glued to the chair.“Yeah, sure dad, whatever,” William thought to himself how weird that hisdad seemed so still. As with no effort or thought he felt a deep tug from beneath hisfeet, through the granite shield from a place only a soul could understand. The landitself seem to pull him and he looked out at the setting sun as it fell into a crimsonshelter of trees. He remembered this look, yet it felt new to him this day.“Dad, I will wait,” his thought was, what a strange thing to say, as normallyhis impatience would get him at least a week of grounding. Something differentwas happening to him and the relationship with his father at that very moment intime, changed.His father stood as still as the lake with each breath patterned as the ripplesslowed from the loons activity. He stared at the chair as if it was his father. Itwas filled with colour and nothing around but greyness streaked the sky? Knowledgeof everything his father and grandfather imparted to him seemed to flush his79

2008 DSBN Anthologymind as he was being pulled to the dock where his father stood still.“William, can you give me a hand with this deck chair.”“Sure, Dad.” William knew he had not been too cooperative this summerwith chores around the cottage, yet something told him as he looked at the blackenedripples sweeping across the lake, that this pattern of behaviour was about tochange forever.“William, you carry this chair.” Phil knew what he was asking his son todo. This was the chair that his father had passed in this very day just one year ago.It was as if his father was reaching to him and asking for Phil to care for William’sneeds. Those needs may have been neglected in the last year. Ben was there, reachingbetween the last cries of the loons.Without words or gestures needed to communicate, William held the chairand understood. This was no ordinary task being offered. William knew at the momentthe chair touched his hands, it offered more than his fourteen years of life.Instead he felt as if time held still, as with one tear on his father’s cheek, it wasstanding still for him and his grandfather. They had woven this fabric. His life wasfixated but on one single thread woven into a family pattern that stretched back tothe original weaver. So chaotic was this design yet simplistic in feel that youwatched only the weavers loom from a distance or be overwhelmed with the vibrancy.It seems we all have the chance to add our unique blend of colour and textureenabling the needles of the loom to match a mosaic of love for life only thoughtin dreams, yet here it is real. But, where is this place?The chair was not the task to be completed. Rather, it was the place tostart, as a vehicle to join in or with. The courage to encounter or grow came fromthat touch, of this chair, as if a lightening rod had been attached in the fabric oftime. This new life would be filled with the memories of not just love between fatherand son, but that of the land and tales it would hold for him, as his father beforehim. From the planting of trees, to the building of the dock with stone and trunk, alove of the seed to each grain of sand is now possible. A respect and honour thatmust be in each of us now lives within him for the first time. How is this possiblefrom just one chair, on a common dock with such common heritage.The chair is as a channel through Georgian Bay, the route is not alwaysavailable for everyone to pass through. The images of lives so full, so unique hiseyes tear in pain as the flood expresses in his soul all that has existed and will exist.As he glanced to his dad, he noticed something that seemed inherent inthis family.“Dad, you’re flying low”“Oh William”. It seems some family traditions never end.“Dad, you really need to get a new pair of shorts with a proper zipper. Howmany times did grandpa tell you that?”“Actually, more than you care to know William.”Phil knew this chair had given William the gift. The first thought of memorieswas momentary and intense as with his smile to his son. It would grow with thebrilliance of the pink echoing across the lake. God, I truly hate pink, but for today…it seems necessary.by Mr. Gregory HamelinOakridge P.S.80

2008 DSBN AnthologyCLOCKThe iconOf chancecrashes onchameleonwaves.Wavesgo by.Time circlingdream wavesback.Wonderingwhereto catchthe nexthand.by Ms. Jennifer RogersWelland Centennial S.S.“We are a species that needsand wants to understand whowe are. Sheep lice do notseem to share this longing,which is one reason why theywrite so little.”Anne Lamott81

2008 DSBN AnthologyiPODS ‘R UsI recently celebrated one of those milestone birthdays and received a giftthat simultaneously ushered me into a new universe – the iUniverse. Even if you’venever entered in personally, you can’t help but be drawn in like celestial bodies andlight to a black hole. At the centre of this vortex, of course, is the ubiquitous iPod.This technological marvel and manifesto of a new Me Generation has been dangledbefore us by its creator Apple, and like its progenitor’s namesake represents atemptation of Edenic proportions – a temptation to retreat from the world ofhuman interaction into the warm cocoon of self.Before you write me off as reactionary, let me clarify my position. iLovemy iPod. I’m not a Luddite. I believe in modern plumbing, laptop computers andeven the convenience of cellphones. I’m quite sure that if you tried to take my iPodaway I’d chase you several city blocks before tripping you up with the earbud wires.What I wasn’t prepared for, however, was how much space this device hasalready carved out for itself in today’s culture. It has entered our vocabulary –witness the common use of “podcasting” in the vernacular. Maybe we’ll soon beconjugating it as a new verb: iPod, uPod, hePods, etc.It can’t help but catch your eye in its gleaming white stacks ofimpermeable plastic when you step inside the warehouse walls of Costco. Sidle intoFuture Shop or Best Buy and you’ll find more iPod accessories than Paris Hiltonhas wardrobe choices.Accessories abound in plastic, leather and naugahyde, but really, those arealready passé. The accessorizing of your new iPod demands changing siliconeslipcovers like so many discarded snake skins. Different colours for differentmoods -- perhaps to synch up with your latest tattoo or favourite thong.You can listen to your iPod anywhere, of course. It will be the perennialposter child for portability. Having purchased the base unit though, you may stillneed an armband for working out, a broadcast system for use in the car, a boomboxcarrier if you want to blast on the beach, or a cradle for use with your homestereo -- and that’s not even touching on its video capabilities. There’s the iPodShuffle, a matchbook sized square that can be clipped to your lycra spandexworkout gear because the Nano was just way too bulky. It seems inevitable that thenext generation will be housed in nose rings and eyebrow studs projecting menus ofsongs inside your eyelid while you draw circles around your navel to advancemenus.If I’m starting to sound cynical, iDon’t intend to. Listening to music is atime honoured way of escaping the frantic crush of life’s demands. And if you can’tget to the symphony, or to the ACC for AC/DC, why not take the shortcut?My fear, iFear, regarding the iPod resides in its first letter. It’s small --unobtrusive really -- and while its lack of capitalization would make e.e. cummingsproud, aren’t we already a little too self-focused? iTunes and the newly spawnediKaraoke will provide us with songs while the iPhone will give us everything else,but there’s always an inherent danger in glorifying the first person behind thepronoun – iSuspect you too may have noticed.More and more people are being drawn into themselves and it’s notwithout its unwitting share of danger. When a disturbed young man decided toplay Rambo at Montreal’s Dawson College not too long ago, there were reports ofstudents who nearly wandered deafly into a lethal situation because their iPods and82

2008 DSBN AnthologyMP3s made them oblivious to the violent tragedy taking place in their midst.There are recent reports that New York City may ban iPods for streetcrossingpedestrians because of several who have been struck by buses and othervehicles apparently because they couldn’t hear vehicle noise or warning shouts.And in my own neck of the woods, a young man recently died while walking alongthe tracks after being struck by a train – oblivious to his fate because his MP3player was too loud.Some have observed that we are increasingly becoming self-containedcyborgs as we listen to our iPods and talk on our Bluetooth headsets while ignoringevery human being around us. It’s already unsettling to be on eerily silent elevatorsor buses full of people where no one dares to breach the conversation barrier.I’m afraid that this tendency will only become more pronounced as weembrace the expanding iUniverse. Deep down, I believe we were made forcommunity and that our greatest fulfillment comes in knowing, and being knownby others.I’ve no doubt I’ll continue to enjoy my iPod while on the elliptical machineand iLook forward to listening to audio books with a newfound convenience. Onlytime will tell how iManage this new technology, but you have permission to take meto task if it looks like I’ve abandoned human contact in order to perpetually dwell inthe space between my ears.by Mr. Bruce SoderholmBeamsville SecondarySelf-portrait by Rachael ZavarellaGrimsby Secondary — Grade 1183

2008 DSBN AnthologyBeginning With the End in MindPhotography by Ms. Tay Shiner at Grapeview P.S.“Taken at dawn at the Samburu National Reservie in Kenya Africa, August2007”84Canadian Monarch in WinterPhotography by Mr. Brett TravesWestlane Secondary

2008 DSBN AnthologyShells on the ShorePhotography by Amanda TomlinsonRidgeway-Crystal Beach S.S. — Grade 10Too Many RulesPhotography by Michelle SimpsonRidgeway-Crystal Beach S.S. — Grade 1085

2008 DSBN Anthology86Imaginary Friend — Scratchboard by Vanessa SokolGrimsby Secondary — Grade 12“A piece illustrating the characters one creates in their mindthat are symbolic of what he or she is seeking and cannotfind in another human being.”

2008 DSBN AnthologyEasy-e — by Mike ArrozaSt. Catharines Collegiate — Grade 10Acrylic painting on masonite87

2008 DSBN Anthologyby Thomas NeufeldWelland Centennial S.S.Grade 1088

2008 DSBN AnthologyThe Evil From the ForestThe messenger came sprinting over the hill, he stopped to catch hisbreath; he looked up over the ancient forests of the lowlands to see the Citadel. Themighty turrets sticking out of the hillside. From his vantage point he could see allthe sanctums all leading up to the Temple of the stars and Earth; it was amarvellous sight, the ancient oak beams carved into perfect archways, the roomsoaring up in aw-inspiring grace, the central tower almost in the heavens. He gazedgleefully at the great settlement. But the message was more important than thebeauty of the whole place; one last look up saw the tri-moons all at their highestpoints and storm clouds gathering. Then he jogged off down the hill into theforests.The forests were an eerie place, the air seemed heavy and golden lightcame down through the canopy and filled the place with a golden brown glow. Themessenger was jogging at a quiet, nice pace when out of the corner of his eye he sawa movement, not of anything, just a movement. When he looked into the shadow ofone of the mighty oaks, he saw the lack of something, a shape trying to be hidden.After this the messenger was a bit shaken and sped up. As he reached half-way hecould tell he was being followed, whatever it was, it was very good at it -- just lettingyou know it was there, but never letting you know what it was. The messenger wassweating now, his mind creating images of horrible monsters and demons trying totake him back to their lair. Finally, he could see the tree line and saw the northerngate to the Citadel, only now did his pursuers show themselves. As he looked backone last time he saw them, a group of five elves. Not the nice ones they tell youabout in fairy tales; no, these were evil-hearted and would slay you at a moment’snotice. The messenger began sprinting as fast as he could, screaming and yelling,the elves were getting closer, they drew the night shrouded scimitars, their obsidianblades so sharp that they were invisible to the human eye.At the castle gates one of the watchmen heard a scream, ahorrible shriek that was terrified. He summoned his captain. The captain strodeout onto the walls. His tall figure was quite regal. He wore a storm blue uniformand gold encrusted armour. Then he spoke, the other watchmen who were allpoorly dressed with only a chain mail shirt and some brown rags, all stood toattention.“What is it Jones?” the captain asked.“Well, sir, I just heard the most terrified scream. I think there’s someonein trouble down there,” Jones replied.“Don’t be a fool. There’s no one out of the C…”He was interrupted before he could finish, as another terrified shriekemanated from the forest. All of the watchmen knew what was next.“Right soldiers,” the captain began, “there is someone down there thatneeds our help. So let’s stop standing here and get down there to do our duty!”With that there was a cheer from the other watchmen and an immediate rush to thegates. Some primed the crossbows and others checked their swords, halberds andaxes.The messenger was still running not knowing whether or not his cries hadbeen answered. Ahead, he began to feel the warmth of normal sunlight. As he89

2008 DSBN Anthology90exited the forest, he could see the gate opening. He stopped and breathed a sigh ofrelief. He’d made it. That was the last thing that went through his mind...well,apart from the arrow from one of the elve’s bows. The messenger dropped to thefloor and a pool of blood surrounded him.The captain saw the poor man die and then he saw the emerging elves.There was five, no ten, fifteen, no twenty. There were twenty of them, all evil eyedand ready to kill. His men shuddered. They all knew about the evil vindictivenessof the elves. No mercy.“Men, I know what you’re thinking but we have to get to that poor man’sbody lest his cries have been in vain. I know that you may fear the foe we face butwe must fight. Sergeants, lead the charge. Men of the citadel—ATTACK!” thecaptain screamed.With that fiery speech they were cheering and the war songs werehummed by the troops. The three regiments moved down the stairs of the maingate, picking up speed and rushing the elves. The fourth unit with the captain gotinto a firing line and readied to shoot. From his vantage point he could see theelves panning out, four groups of five, but one didn’t move. As a leader himself, heknew that this was their commander. The human units charged, screaming deathsongs, and then the elves fired the bows. Their arrow heads sliced through thehumans like a knife through the air. Many of the arrows severed limbs, or for a few,their heads. The shots had scared the soldiers but they couldn’t stop their charge.The elves tried to move backwards but were smashed into combat. Drawing theirblades, they cut a bloody swath through the human ranks.By this time, most of the elves and humans were in combat—each fightingterribly hard but neither giving any ground. The captain’s unit aimed and fired atthe one stationary unit that hadn’t charged. Their bolts were loosened and theykilled two of the elves in an instant, slicing through their chests. The elf in chargesaw where the shots were coming from, and with an unnatural swiftness, climbedthe stairs and decapitated two of the soldiers before they drew their swords.Another three quickly followed. The captain charged and their blades sparked offeach other. The elf looked surprised. The captain grinned. They threw themselvesbackwards. The captain yelled to the leader of the regiment, but he was dead. Theelf charged again, knives striking across each other.“Jones, urghhh, get to the temple. Tell the Baron to send more troops!QUICKLY!”The captain parried again and Jones didn’t even say yes sir. He just ran.Up through the gate and on towards the inner sanctum, he passed ordinary peoplewho were just going about their lives. But when Jones yelled, “ELVES! ELVESARE ATTACKING!” many civilians fled to their homes. Some grabbed whateverweapon they could find and rushed towards the gate. They would not let the homesbe taken by some evil that shows no mercy. Better to die in battle than by murder.Jones finally reached the inner sanctum. Its beauty never ceased to amazehim. But he couldn’t dwell. He kept yelling and screaming for the Baron. TheBaron stormed out of the temple, demanding silence. His royal guard panned outaround him. Jones approached the Baron.“Sir...pant...pant, the elves sir...pant...pant, they are attacking the northerngates.” With that Jones collapsed, partly because of exhaustion but mostly becauseof the arrow in his back. The Baron ordered his guard to round up the troops andget to the northern gate with all speed. The guards left and the Baron took Jonesinside to the priests of healing.

2008 DSBN AnthologyBack at the gate things weren’t going very well. Many more elves hadjoined and the northern gate watch was almost overrun. They were fighting backup through the gates, the captain still fighting the elves’ leader. As they werealmost pushed back inside the gate, the militia and civilians arrived and managedto help the watch get to safety. They tried to close the gates, but they couldn’tbecause of all the bodies. The captain ordered one last charge; the elves were sweptaside as a living tide of humans smashed them asunder. They gained so muchground that the captain managed to overwhelm the elf commander. He forced hissword through the evil creature’s heart. The remaining elves retreated into theforest. The men of the watch dragged in as many bodies as they could but thewounded captain had to get to the body of the messenger. With a retinue ofwatchmen they made their way to the bottom of the slope, and got the parchmentgrasped in the hands of the messenger. But as they did, the regrouped elvescharged out of the forest with foul creatures and even fouler war machines. Just asthe men managed to get into the gate house, the elves fired and all of the captain’sretinue were killed in an instant. The captain managed to only get a flesh wound onhis arm. With their captain inside the gate, the watch closed the gate and sealed itwell. The civilians went and got whatever they could find and built make-shiftdefences. The watch was devastated. Only thirty four members were still fit forfighting; this morning there had been almost two hundred. The captain, who wasbleeding from lots of tiny wounds, was rushed up to the temple where the priests ofhealing did what they could for him.As the main army took up defences, the watch stood beside them. TheBaron ordered conscription of any able person to be drawn into active service. Menand woman alike were forced to don armour and carry whatever weapons could befound. The Citadel was ready for war and almost every member of the populationwould die to keep this jewel in a world of darkness, free.As night approached, the elves made their attack. Their war machinesbelched flame into the city, burning everyone’s homes. The foul monster, whichwere mostly trolls, pounded the gate. From the inside it was horrendous. The citywas ablaze and the screams of the unfortunate could be heard everywhere, but themen and women of the Citadel stood firm. The elves, happy with the terror theyhad caused, changed their attack from destroying the city to blowing down thewalls. Their machines turned their barrels down and released an inferno of flamecovered boulders at the wall. Those who noticed jumped off the wall but most wereblown away in a shower of stone and fire. The screams of those on the wall wasterrifying and the shock of the explosion knocked most of the people over. As theygot up out of the rubble and gore, they could just see the elves pouring in, shreddinganyone in their way to pieces. But their killing couldn’t erase the fact that they wereoutnumbered—and as the elves began to tire, thousands of angry, heartbroken andterrified humans charged. Their war chants were in perfect unison and the sheervolume of people attacking just smashed the elves aside. The fury of the attack leftmost of the elves dead. But the conscripts and militia had little or no militarytraining and the main part of the elves’ army charged in a counter attack just as thelarge proportion of the conscripts and militia charged out of the gaping hole in thewall. As the militia saw what was happening, the captains ordered a retreat to thenext sanctum. The cries of the slaughter outside of the wall died down the furtheryou got away from it. The devastation of the city was apparent here too. All thecorpses and rubble made the troops shudder.91

2008 DSBN Anthology92Once the elves were happy with their slaughter, as there was nobody left tokill, they poured into the city, trolls in front. But as luck would have it, the warmachine crews had joined in with the ambush and had left their weapons ofannihilation behind. As the trolls once again pounded the gates, the priests of thesky and the earth came down to the weary soldiers. The high priests of both orderstold the militia to withdraw to the inner sanctum and try to get as many people aspossible out of the city through the southern gate. The captains protested, saying itwas hopeless leaving a bunch of old men to defend the city, but in the end thepriests won and the militia withdrew. As they reached the inner sanctum, theBaron ordered them to get as many of the sacred texts as they could, trying topreserve an almost extinct civilization.The priests stood in three lines with their high priests in front. They wereall chanting, all of them, and to the rhythm of their chant there seemed to be a lightcoming through the night. It pulsated and each time got stronger until the priestswere saturated in light. As their chanting got louder, the gates burst and threegigantic moss covered, slimy, fungus-ridden trolls lumbered into view. The priestschanged their chant and a strange whirling mist surrounded them, trees appearedin the mist, and rocks just popped into existence. With one note, the priests blastedall of the objects at the very confused trolls. The trolls tried to flee but the pelting ofthe trees and boulders just knocked them over, green blood pouring from giantgashes in their backs. As the elves came through, the priests changed their chantagain and this time a hoard of scrabbling spirits came forward, demandingvengeance for the souls that the elves had slaughtered. The swarm flew downthrough the city and no elf could escape. It was revenge incarnate. As the surf ofspirits flew down, a rip in the night sky poured in light and the souls of those thathad been killed ascended into the heavens.The priests, with their work now done, headed back to the inner sanctum.But ahead they could see a black wall—an evil and twisted barricade forming animpenetrable wall of foul elfish sorcerers ready to return their army to its formerstate. The priests and sorcerers both knew their magic was useless so they charged,staff and wands sparked as they hit, releasing magic.From the inner sanctum, the humans could see the sparks flying. TheBaron watched until there were no more sparks and a single beam shot up from thebattlefield. As the beam touched the sky, a swirling vortex appeared and blacktwisted shapes fell down from the sky. When the objects fell, the Baron knew it wastime to move. He ordered the last of his men to leave with the rest of the caravan—but just as he was leaving, the final gate to the inner sanctum ripped open.The Baron began to run but he stumbled. His guard ran around to protecthim, giving him time to escape. But through the gate, half dead elves poured in.Their spirits were not quite in line with their bodies; some had no heads, some wereshredded, but they were all terrifying to look upon. As the elves reached the centre,the wounded watch men, being housed in the temple because they were presumeddead, bust out of the door and assailed the approaching hoard. The captain of thenorthern gate watch yelled to the guard.“Get the Baron out of this cursed place. We will keep them busy!” On thatcommand, the guard picked up the Baron and hurried down the stairs and out ofthe hidden southern gate. Once the captain saw his liege was gone, he charged intothe fray hacking his sword left and right. In a matter of minutes he and Jones werethe only ones left. He called out, “Jones, let’s go down fighting.”Jones replied, “Yes, sir.”

2008 DSBN AnthologyThe two of them fought very bravely back to back until they were coveredin the scrabbling bodies of half-dead elves.Far from the city, the Baron looked back at where he knew his city to be,but all he could see was a great blaze in its place. All he could think of was howterribly those poor men must have died. His guard beckoned him over and hejoined the rest of the sombre caravan.by David WhiteRidgeway Crystal Beach High SchoolGrade 9Enter Sinby Meaghan HarderGovernor SimcoeGrade 1293

2008 DSBN AnthologyYellow is Where You Want to Be — Watercolour by Lisa ColasGrimsby Secondary — Grade 12“I found I could say thingswith color and shapes thatI couldn't say any otherway - things I had nowords for.”Georgia O'Keeffe94

2008 DSBN AnthologySitting by the Sun — by Tanya TsigirlashEden High — Grade 11Tuscan Sun — Watercolour painting by Natasha TheobaldEden High — Grade 1195

2008 DSBN AnthologyMagic(A Dream and a Demonstration)In a dimly lit room, the woman perched on a plain wooden chair. Her facewas veiled by black hair, but her shuddering showed that she was weeping. Herhair was matted; her clothes were soiled and ragged.She had grown up poor, and loathed poverty.Tink. A single golden coin fell from above, bounced off her leg andclattered onto the floor. She looked curiously at the coin. After holding up to thelight, and testing its hardness, she smiled.Tink...another gold coin. Tink...another. Tink-Tink-Tink-Tink-Tink-Tink-Tink...lots of coins were falling now. Soon the trickle of coins became a flow, fallingtowards her lap, creating a heavy, golden mound. The golden waterfall made herlaugh and laugh. The laughter grew frenzied, insane.Without warning, the gold stopped, and so did her cackling. Beside thegold, lay a beggar. He clutched a single golden coin. His taking it from the streamof gold must have stopped its flow.The woman stood up unsteadily and forced herself to smile at the beggar,gesturing to him to help himself. But when the beggar bent to collect another coin,she wrapped her hands around his throat to choke him.The beggar gasped once and she tightened her grip. Gradually, his armsand legs stopped flopping. A final spasm, and the woman released his neck. Shehungrily pried the coin from the dead man’s hand.Suddenly, her head jerked back. Two large ram’s horns curled out of herskull, their menacing points gleaming. Talons jutted out of her fingertips, and aforked tail slithered out of her back.She smiled, then raked her claws across her stomach, tearing clothes andskin like parchment. Beneath was new skin, black as midnight, with veins thatpulsed and glowed with the fires of hell. Leathery wings unfurled from hershoulder blades. Fangs sliced through her gums, while her mouth grew larger. Butthat wasn’t the worst.The worst was her eyes - fiery, red points that showed no feeling, not evenhatred, just a predator’s will to tear and destroy. To obliterate, to annihilate, to waragainst every form of life on the planet, slowly, one by one.It was a demon.¤¤“NO!” James screamed at the top of his lungs, jumping up.He looked up from the floor to see plain wooden walls and a large group ofchildren staring at him. A man glared at James from the front of the room.Whoo! It was just a dream! Must have been asleep. Boring prof. I reallyshouldn’t be afraid of demons so much. Need to get over it. Most kids…“Ah, Mister Davidson, would you care to join us?” spoke the professorquietly.James grinned sheepishly, “Only if you won’t put me to sleep again.”“Indeed. As you obviously crave excitement, perhaps you would like to bepart of my next demonstration?”James sauntered to the front, and grinned with just a little moreconfidence than he felt.96

2008 DSBN Anthology“Practice this gesture - it’s a spell to bind your enemies,” instructed theprofessor. He stuck his left pinky at the sky and looped his right hand’s middlefinger around it.You want to get me in pain? You know I’m rubbish at white magic, so thisspell won’t do me anything. How about a different gesture?James scrolled through his mental list, and after he had decided on theappropriate gesture, he stuck his second and third finger at the prof and pointed hispinky towards the sky.A gasp escaped the class, and James smiled.I insulted his family. But he’s not surprised, this happens often enough. Imust’ve offended everyone he likes. And a few he doesn’t.“I see,” whispered the professor. His mouth was a thin, grim line of fury.He pointed his left fist and right pinky at James.Fireball. This is gonna hurt...unless I move fast.Barely thinking, James leapt toward the startled professor, faking right,then dodging left and around. Already through the door, James yelled, “I think thedemonstration is over!”And it was.Excerpt from novella by Isaiah KlassenEden HighOur Wonderful Worldof Imagesby Simone D’AngeloGrimsby SecondaryGrade 1197

2008 DSBN Anthology98A Prayer for the WeakThe bird chirped loudly as it fluttered its light-brown, tethered wings. Tryas it may, flight refused to come to the small creature. It continued to flapincessantly, more eager to soar with every smack against the chilly air of the coolautumn night.The exhausted old man watched the bird pitifully. His blank stare gazedout at the world, helpless—even to help a small brown bird only inches away fromhis long fingers. The disabled man’s appearance was as his pupils—frozen in time,ever watching.The old bird stood next to the old crow, knowing he was there, but notexpecting any danger. The bird had been visiting the old man’s backyard formonths—becoming deeply acquainted with the closest thing to a living inanimateobject.However, winter was just around the corner and his instincts demandedthat he travel south. With his wings failing him like this, it was yet to be seenwhether he would be able to take off again—ever.Punishment does not end, thought the man. He had spent years of hismonotonous life watching the world pass by from his chair; now he must watch hisprecious visitor struggle with its life.The feathered soul ceased trying to fly, but only temporarily. He lookedlong and wide at the yard encompassing him, which had been such a safe haven forso long—but was now nothing more than a fenced-in prison. He lifted his nimblelegs slowly, turning to gaze up at his precious host.It is surprising how a creature with no expression can create such strongemotions in a person. The bird’s heart-breaking stare gazed directly into the darkpupils of the helpless senior.Their trance seemed to create a parallel to a world where their spirits wereof one, intertwined with no separation; like cancer to the lungs.The bird’s piercing stare bore through the man’s wounded heart. Theparalysis that ebbed away at his sanity, quickly destroyed it, replacing it withsadness.The man thought. He had been thinking for many years, only this time hehad reason. He thought of how he wished he could help this creature in its journeyof life or death. He pleaded to The Lord that he may move his fingers and save thiscreature. Even just touch it. His heart pumped a mournful beat. He thought.He prayed.The man moved the two things his body would allow, looking down at hisright hand. Although he had not been able to feel his muscles for longer than thebird had been alive, he knew they were still there. He prayed, concentrating all ofhis dwindling energy on lifting his pinky finger.Oceans dried and mountains shook, but his finger was as stone. He kepttrying and tried some more, but to no avail.The man wept without tears.He bled without blood.He stirred without stirring.The old man tried once more. A shock to the world like thunder during amoment of silence—his pinky twitched.And it twitched again.

2008 DSBN AnthologyOceans dried and mountains shook as the old crow’s smallest fingerreached for the skies. He brushed his first feeling of touch across the back, pettingits chilly feathers gently.The bird seemed satisfied, turning around. As it waddled out of reach, theman’s finger fell back to the world, freezing in time once again.The small, light-brown bird flapped its tethered wings once more. Itflapped and flapped, finally feeling the wind across its wings as it soared throughthe air.The old crow bent his mouth disfiguratively, dropping a smile at the onlything that remained beautiful to his eyes.His smirk soon became indifferent, yet again becoming utterly exhausted.He flapped his tethered wings and took off, with the prisonous yard to his back.By Colin SpenserGovernor Simcoe“Quothe the Ray-ven nevermore!”by Raymond FongA. N. Myer SecondaryGrade 1099

2008 DSBN Anthology100For Rockin’ Out Loud!I have to admit a little secret. I have a particular infatuation with a certainhandsome Japanese singer. Takanori Nishikawa, better known by the name TMRevolution, is my dream guy. Even though he stands only 5'1", he is a tough littleguy, and his height is no factor in determining his extreme sense of fashion, hisupbeat ear-catching tunes, and irresistible live performances. Plastered on my wallsare life-size posters of him, cluttering up my shelves are his CDs, DVDs, and officialconcert books, and the majority of my MP3 Player is filled his songs. I am what youmight call a die-hard fan. He is my obsession! I would follow him to the ends of theEarth!Ok, I am not that nuts, but I am a pretty crazy fan.When I went to Japan for my ten month exchange, I hoped that he woulddo a concert so I could see him in person. I knew I was hoping for a lot, becausesince he is getting older, he doesn’t do many live performances. In spite of this, Ihoped and prayed my dream of seeing Nishikawa perform live would come true."Oh please, oh please," I said. " Please, let my dream come true!" I even crossed myfingers and toes. Yes, they teased, said I was crazy and told me to give up, but Inever stopped believing!Then, in early December, my prayers were answered. Nishikawa haddecided to perform four concerts in Osaka City, a mere twenty minutes from myhome! I was ecstatic! I couldn’t believe my luck. Nothing, not typhoon nor tsunaminor earthquake, could stop me from going to at least one of those shows. I patientlywaited for an announcement regarding where I could get tickets. If I had to tacklesomeone for a ticket, I was prepared to do so.As the days turned into weeks and no announcement, I started to getworried that the concerts might be cancelled. The only thing that was for certainwas the boys only concerts (yes, Boys Only, please don’t ask) tickets would go onsale shortly. Days passed and still nothing. Finally, I heard the most devastatingnews a girl could hear: the other three concerts were made Fan Club Only. I,surprisingly, am not a member of this elusive fan club, only because I am not apermanent resident of Japan-which was one of the main requirements. Otherwise, Iwould be President by now. Slightly unfair, I know, yet the unbearable truth. Myteacher and I got on the phone and called everyone and anyone who we thoughtmight allow me to purchase a ticket. The ticket sales, the fan club, the fan clubpresident! But, it was for not. No one would take pity on this poor foreignNishikawa fan. It seemed my dream was going up in smoke...What was this heartbrokengirl to do?Then, my teacher spoke the words that set a strange course of motion, "Ifyou want to see him, buy a ticket for the boys concert, dress up, and go and enjoyyourself."My jaw hit the floor. "WHAT?! Are you INSANE?!" I thought.I am crazy. I realized this a long time ago, but I do have a bit of sense inme. However, I knew I had lost it completely when I stood days later with a ticket tothe Boys Only Nishikawa concert, tight in the grip of my little shaking palm.The preparations began. I had clothes to assemble, a wig to buy, and I hadto practice my rough and tough guy attitude. I even learned to walk like a man. I left

2008 DSBN Anthologyno stone unturned. I had to get in! On the day of the concert, ironically ChristmasDay, I was a bundle of nerves. Taking place in a little concert hall in a popular areaof the city, the boys surrounding me seemed to be staring right at me like guards,peering into the depths of my soul to uncover the lie. I felt somewhat like a secretagent as I walked up those stairs towards the fortress known as Big Cat ConcertHouse. I was calm and collected as I handed over the ticket to the man standing atthe door. His eyes lingered on me for a moment, as if he knew my terrible secret butwas deciding whether or not to be merciful. Luckily for me, his words were likemusic to my ears.“You’re in.”I wanted to jump, scream, and dance around the room with excitement,but I am sure that would have blown my cover.While I stood waiting for the concert to begin, I couldn’t help but observemales in their natural environment. They are strange creatures; their true habitsunknown to the rest of the world while they jump around and yelling variousprofanities. I have officially gone were no female should ever go. When the concertstarted, I found myself in a herd of elephants, being pushed this way and that,barely able to catch my breath. I closed my eyes and held onto my wig for dear life,all the while to my extreme glee, was pushed to the front of the concert hall. I endedup less than three feet from the stage. I held my breath.There he was. Takanori Nishikawa. TM Revolution. In the flesh and just asGod made him; perfect. I was in a dream! Nothing in life is this perfect, right? But itwas. I had done it! Our eyes met at one point, and my heart skipped a beat.We met after; we fell in love!Ok, I am joking there. But our yes did meet. The fact that there was aforeigner at his concert probably gave him quite a shock.The night seemed to be so short. I didn’t want it to end. But, once it did, Irealized I had done something crazy and amazing. I’m not the first female to seeNishikawa, but I am sure that I am one of the only fans willing to go that far. It wasquite the accomplishment! If this was living on the edge, I had stepped clear over it.Furthermore, I would do it again in a heartbeat. So, remember, if you ever needsomeone to give you pointers on how to get into a boys only concert in a foreigncountry, tell them to give me a call.by Brynn RogersBeamsville DistrictGrade 12101

2008 DSBN Anthology102Dreams — by Ashley RempelEden High — Grade 11 (Cut paper on board)DreamersI suppose I have always been something of a dreamer. I prefer to spendmy time far back in history with characters that do not exist. I am controlled by myideas rather than all of those secondary “practical” things. I spend most of my timewith my head in the clouds. The problem with that, though, is that my feet hardlyever willingly touch the ground. While locked in my dreamlike worlds of storythere is only one thing that can free me from my precious prison: that horriblytedious and trivial thing that still manages to play an overwhelming part of myfabled existence. It is that of money. Money, or the lack of it, tears my head rightout of the clouds and chains my feet to the ground. Only literature, the love of mylife, keeps me from being destroyed by those paper shackles.I make an effort to write every day – anything from a story to a journal to ascript. I often dream that perhaps by some fluke I will be one of those lucky ones,whisked away into the world of the published author, free to spend my life locked inmy dreams – my writings. Or perhaps I could become one of those not-quite-socrazyartists and live a life without starvation. I often try to imagine my worldwithout money being an issue in my life, but it is hard. I even dream that someday Iwill establish my own graphic novels – that is the purpose of the script, to me. Itreally would be a dream come true – the perfect combination of my two passions;the written word and illustration. It is a dream I hold dear, but as the days go by, Ifear it will remain just that: a dream. I truly fear spending my life hating my job. Ithink possessing a career full of literature and artistic endeavours would not beconsidered “work” at all.Even if I am not one of those lucky ones, there will still be books to keepme company. Often I read deep into the night instead of making the healthierchoice of sleeping. When I read, there are no restraints of time or money. It isbliss, even though I find it painfully hard to tear myself away from my preciousbooks in order to place my feet upon the ground.I have fallen in love with another part of the English language – a veryspecial one: editing. Although those close to me consider it strange, I adore editing

2008 DSBN Anthologyalmost as much as I enjoy writing. I’ve often contemplated being an editor or anillustrator or even any sort of writer. I never really could decide, so I figure, whynot do everything? The first, and most important step on this path of mine is totake my knowledge of the English language to a much higher level. I am extremelypassionate about learning and am very eager to see what comes next, in university.Except university brings back that ever-looming shadow of money, and the money Ido not have.No matter how much I wish it, I cannot go to the top university in theworld because of such a restraint. I am forced to instead apply for any fundsavailable, and then I must pray to any god willing to listen that I am granted mywish.Luckily, my loving family and my wonderful friends provide plenty ofencouragement. They have never once tried to squelch my passion for the writtenword or for visual arts, and for that, I am grateful.As a child, I never really believed I had a talent for writing – being an“author” was something that even the dreamers could not imagine. Rather thanspending my time writing my own stories, I spent it reading the works of others. Ido not regret it for a minute, although I wish I had spent more time writing formyself. The first time I was ever proud of something I had written – a schoolassignment, even – came in eighth grade. Our task was to write a story. Growingup, I was always very shy. I could only ever express myself through words. Myteacher announced one day that he received such a wonderful story that he just hadto share it with the class. I was terrified when he told the class it was mine – I wasterrified of my classmates having a look into the deepest part of my soul thatpoured through my words. I wanted to fall into a pit and never rise again.Until the unthinkable happened. People liked my story; they even offeredcongratulations. I was almost too shocked to utter anything other than a muffled“thank you”. Perhaps it was my defining moment as an aspiring writer – it is whenI began to truly appreciate the craft. Before then, I never really took those “verywell written” comments on every single assignment seriously. Those commentscontinued all through high school, followed by very high marks. Often I even heldthe highest mark in the class. I was even proud, at times.In my senior year of high school, I got a small taste of my dream: being achild of only seventeen at the time, life was still “free”. I got an entire semester ofjust English classes. My teachers offered me plenty of opportunities for extra work,and I was having such a wonderful time that I licked them right up. I honestly hadthe time of my life. Before then, I never thought it was possible to love somethingso passionately and have it also be a potential career choice. Having that oneblissful semester, however, forever tainted my ability to work: having tasted thatsweet, sweet dream, I can never go back to something so bitter.I dream of taking my passions and abilities to a higher level, free of worryfrom the debt that often comes with education. I dream of choosing a schoolbecause of its reputation or its unique program rather than basing my decision onwhat funds I receive. I dream of living my life to the best of my ability without anyfinancial shackles.I would be eternally grateful if I were allowed to remain a dreamer.by Sarah StuartWestlane SecondaryGrade 12103

2008 DSBN Anthology104Gargoyle — by Melina HofmannThorold Secondary — Grade 11

2008 DSBN AnthologyThe following is a take-off of Top Secret:The Secret Knowledge of Grown-Upsby David Wisniewski.105

1062008 DSBN Anthology

2008 DSBN Anthologyby Christyn ColbowThorold SecondaryGrade 12107

2008 DSBN Anthologyby Stephane LeTourneauSt. Catharines CollegiateGrade 10108

2008 DSBN Anthologyby Allen KimSt. Catharines CollegiateGrade 10109

2008 DSBN Anthologyby Lisa KlotzWestlane SecondaryGrade 12110

2008 DSBN AnthologyThe World Does Not Define Me — Self-portrait by Benjamin ScholtensWest Park — Grade 10“In this assignment I had to make a piece of art combining the other majorprojects that I had done during the year. I had to base it on an inspirationfrom another artist and work in a saying within the painting.My inspiration came from two sources. One was a painting by Caravaggioentitled ‘David and Goliath,’ done with rich golden tones mostly in shadow.The effect was very dramatic. The other was a song I heard on ChristianRadio that spoke of the influences of the world and the choices we make; thesongs retort to this was ‘you do not define me,’ speaking of the world, butthat God and the life and death of Jesus Christ defines me.In this painting, my eyes are wide open and my face determined. Thepiece includes a self portrait the praying hands and my watch. These are allaspects of different works that I have done throughout the year.”111

2008 DSBN AnthologyCanada’s Gun Registry: A Position PaperCanada’s mandatory gun registry has been a highly controversial issuesince it was introduced with the creation of the Firearms Act in 1995. The issuehas been the cause of a great amount of civil disobedience on the part of manypeople, particularly seen in the civil disobedience movement launched in 2002 bythe Canadian Unregistered Firearms Owners Association (Lemieux). However,there is good judgment, sound reason, and evidence backing the creation andenforcement of the bill. Thus, in the interest and safety of Canadian Society, civildisobedience in this matter is not a justifiable action.One theory of law states that law should achieve the greatest good for thegreatest number of people. The application in this case is quite obvious.Registering firearms is in the interest of public safety by supporting governmentactions toward gun control. Refusing to comply with this law is no simple matterbecause it shows a lack of respect for the safety of Canadian society. It also shows alack of concern toward the regulation of violent weapons in our society, theimportance and function of which is fairly evident. The results of weak gun controland regulation were seen in the events at Virginia Tech University, in April 2007,where a student ordered to go to outpatient psychiatric counselling had easy accessto weapons, and went on to kill 32 students. Former Prime Minister, Jean Chrétienexpressed his shock at how, in the United States, the gun control system allowedthis student to “get himself armed to the teeth without any trouble, with fewquestions asked” (Panetta).The gun registry has been supported by those who see the effects of gunsfirsthand, including those who enforce the law and protect the public. In theToronto Star article “Tories Make New Bid to Kill Gun Registry,” author AllanWoods brings out the opinions of police chiefs. Police chiefs all over Canada havealways supported the gun registry, and reportedly use it over 5000 times a daysince it has been instituted. The registry is especially useful in keeping weapons outof the hands of the mentally ill, for example persons like Seung-Hui Cho, thestudent responsible for the Virginia Tech killings mentioned above. The article alsomentions the opinion of Toronto Mayor, David Miller. “You can’t be tough on guncrime without being tough on guns,” Miller says, “the federal government…shouldbe strengthening our gun laws” (Woods).The gun registry is thus a tried and supported method of maintainingsocial order. From the opinions of many Canadians, as well as law enforcers andpolitical professionals, we can see the concept of procedural justice in action injudging the quality of the gun registry law. The law is being used, is being upheldby many Canadians, and has been proven an effective manner of gun control. It isnot a justifiable action, therefore, to refuse to register one’s gun or try to persuade112

2008 DSBN Anthologythe government to go back on its promises and repeal the law and registry.Registering guns is not an infringement on Canadian peoples’ rights, nor isit a great disturbance to their lives or a great hindrance to their pursuing theirparticular hobbies. To participate in civil disobedience by not registering one’s gunis not a peaceful way to act out against an unjust law. It is a blatant disregard anddisrespect for Canada’s efforts to improve public safety and shows a lack of care forone’s fellow Canadian.(Works Cited: CanWest News Service. “Shooting Victims Oppose Weaker Gun Rules.” WindsorStar, December 2007; Foot, Richard. “Government Revivies Bill to Kill Long-Gun Registry; Liberals sayTories Won’t Try to Push Bill Through.” Ottawa Citizen, November 17, 2007; Lemieux, Pierre. ”A Nation ofLicence Holders.” Ottawa Citizen, December 17, 2007; Panetta, Alexander. “Chrétien Defends Liberals’Long-Gun Registry; Virginia Tech Carnage Shows Law’s Value, Former PM Argues.” Toronto Star, April30, 2007; Sun Media Toronto. “Billion-Dollar Registry Doesn’t Have a Tally of Legal Handguns.” St.Catharines Standard, January 28, 2008; Woods, Allan. “Tories Make New Bid to Kill Gun Registry.”Toronto Star, November 17, 2007.)by Gaby WagerSir Winston ChurchillGrade 12“I don't pretend wehave all the answers.But the questionsare certainly worththinking about.”Arthur C. Clarke113

2008 DSBN AnthologyHomePhotography by Laura DiFilippoGrimsby SecondaryGrade 12114

2008 DSBN AnthologyRemorseI wish I had done it sooner,So sad I failed to plan,The penalty of procrastination,Has implications for a man.I can hear my mother's mantra,Rushing through my head,“People don't plan to fail,They fail to plan,” she said.If only I had listened,To my parents’ wise advice.I wouldn't be in this predicament,Of screwing up my life.If only I had been organized.If only I had thought ahead.If only I had realized,The need to put my DS down and pick up a bookinstead.Next time I'll heed the warning.Next time I'll think ahead.Next time I'll do it sooner,So next time, I can go to bed.Regret is such a small word,Only six letters long,But it represents such misery,When you've done something wrong.by Evan VerwornThorold SecondaryGrade 11115

2008 DSBN Anthologyby Lisa KlotzWestlane Secondary SchoolGrade 12My MoonI can see mistakesThat I have madeAlong floors of lakesWhere I have laidOnce great machinesOf pride and lustNow horrid scenes,My past, in rust.I do not wishTo raise these shipsNor will I fishFor missing chips.I moved alongAnd won’t move backJust like a pawnI leave no slack.by Lenny FerryThorold SecondaryGrade 12116

2008 DSBN Anthologyby Sarah StuartWestlane SecondaryGrade 12“Anyone who saysyou can't see athought simplydoesn't know art.”Wynetka AnnReynolds117

2008 DSBN AnthologyQuietRunning with the ball dancing around my feet,it’s almost graceful,a dance.Then the running,the chasing,I must escape.Get the ball away from them,and to my true goal.The Net.The ball whirls about me as if in orbit around my feet.Someone’s coming left,I feint right.Someone’s coming right,I feint left.Then only one is left to conquer,only one enemy is left to confuse,Only one is left for me.The Goalie.Running head on, the mind games we’re taught off the field have no place here.This is my place,the place I can best,be myself.Where I don’t have to prove anything to anyone,and just do,what I do best.And that is to,“SCORE!!!”As the ball swishes in the net,I come back to earth,Come back from the far off place,Where all is quiet.Except the sound of my breathing.The crowd goes wild,adrenalin is in the air,I am their Hero once again.But in the end I only do it for that moment of quiet.by Teri GrimardThorold SecondaryGrade 12118

2008 DSBN AnthologyGlory of the GridironTo play the game you must be passionate.Football truly is not for the weak-hearted,Have to be tough as nails and never quit.But still, many have cried and more have bled.The intensity will make your heart race.Most can’t handle the pressure of the game,Being hit’s like getting shot in the face,If you don’t play the game then it’s all the same.Victory’s the only thing that brings joy.So hard to score it should be outlawed,Your defense impenetrable like Troy,It makes you feel like you’re some sort of god.A stingy defense always pays off,In a game where not one person is soft.by Chris BretonThorold SecondaryGrade 11Go With the Flow — Scratchboard by Reiner LippGrimsby Secondary — Grade 12119

2008 DSBN AnthologyAn Ode to SonnetsThe hardest line will always be the first.The second hardest line will write itself just fine.And out of these a sonnet will emerge.I’ll make a good example out of mine.To force a simile into your verseWould sound about as fluent as a mime.The only habit poets have that’s worseIs throwing words in just because they rhyme,Or causing readers’ heads to get immersedWith much unneeded hyperbolic lines.It’s adding less than nothing to the words.I’ve seen it more than half a billion timesI must correct my statement from the past.The hardest line is actually the last.by Robert Del-GiaccoThorold SecondaryGrade 12120Self Portraitby Kendra HobbsNiagara DistrictGrade 10

2008 DSBN AnthologySands ImmortalI stand on the summit of a dunethe unending undulating sandsblow like whispers into oblivionand how can I, a man meager,trace my steps through the desert?to the birth of my dunebut time, time cares not, for it is too lateeven though I fear my final dateand although I stand solid and alonethe flesh that decks these boneswill become the sand that sets the stonesand ever since my early beginning,serenely silent, ever-flowing,the sands amassed an apexand I have ascended along thusbut now the crest has grown profusenow to wither away through over-useunable to return, I agonizingly dreadthe fall of term, the covering of my treadbut when I am dust to add to the sandwhat will be the whispers toneabout a simple and small, faded manfor has my dune not added to the crests of others?when that final grain takes into flight,and fades slowly into that arid sightto immortal effects among legions of menI will be but one, but a drop in that arid oceanby Craig DodmanWestlane SecondaryGrade 12121

2008 DSBN AnthologyPeeking RomanceOut from the shrubbery he came to me,Eyes deep sea blue and smile of a god’s.No words were spoken, our eyes could plainly seeThat we shall be one, no matter the odds.Time went by, we began to drift apart.I can’t explain what happened to us then.And now I feel emptiness in my heart.Now all we ever can be is just friends.Even though he is gone, and my heart still aches,I will never forget those moments had.This won’t be reminisced as a mistake,The memories will be forever glad.It is hard to move on, as you can seeFrom that man peeking from the shrubbery.by Ashley DellaireThorold SecondaryGrade 12Triadic — by Michelle SimpsonRidgeway-Crystal Beach S.S. — Grade 10(creative eye - coloured pencils)122

2008 DSBN AnthologyThe Echoes in the HallThe echoes in the hallform the very rise and fallof my mental state and all.for every sentence that is uttered,and every second to be plundered,forms my existence withalWithout these forms that walk astray(growing more enlightened night and day)life would be a meaningless arrayof sight and sense, life and decayby Craig DodmanWestlane SecondaryGrade 12Forever Facelessby Max RobertsonGrimsby SecondaryGrade 11“The dark tunnel of afirst day at a newschool”123

2008 DSBN Anthologyby Alex McAvoyRidgeway-Crystal Beach S.S. — Grade 11124

2008 DSBN AnthologyI’m AmazedI’m amazed at how much you love me.How your hands fit so perfectly with mine.I’m amazed with the person you’ve helped me to beAnd how your kisses are capable of stopping time.I love your eyes that can read my soul.The way they steal the breath from my lungs.I love how you make me feel completely wholeAnd the way you capture the words right off my tongue.I’m amazed at the way you make me weak.You seem to know me more than I know myself.I’m amazed how you stop the tears from rolling down my cheekAnd the way you secure my mental health.I love the way you whisper my name,How you’ve let me down never.I love how you’re the only thing that stays the sameAnd how you reassure me that our love is forever.by Samantha TronzoThorold SecondaryGrade 12“Painting is poetrythat is seen ratherthan felt, andpoetry is paintingthat is felt ratherthan seen.”Leonardo da Vinci125

2008 DSBN AnthologyRed Sun RisesI watch the clouds roll byLook deep into the world behind themStaying up through the nightFocus my sight on the horizonI will not waste my timeOn all life’s reckless enterprisesDream of a life in new lightWaking as the red sun risesThere’s a song on the breezeComing down from the treesWhen the shadow recedesThere’ll be no disguiseSeen the stars at their heightFeel so small in their sightBut I’ll forget the nightAs the red sun risesForget what’s left in your placeSearch for someone to confide inSensations you can’t replaceLife is lost without surprisesDisappear without a traceBreaking free of your disguisesChase the feeling into spaceClose your eyes, a red sun risesFeel the wind on my faceFrom some far away placeThere’s such beauty and graceIn a morning skyBring the strong to their kneesAs their bravery fleesYou are all that I needAs the red sun risesA coward in your sightBring back the one you could take pride inPlace myself in the spotlightsNot knowing what lies behind themReceiving no replyHope to break free before tonight endsWhen no one else will tryI’ll wake before the red sun rises126Song by Josh RueggRidgeway-Crystal Beach S.S.Grade 12

2008 DSBN Anthologyby Sarah DuffinE. L. Crossley Secondary“The artist's world islimitless. It can be foundanywhere, far from where helives or a few feet away. It isalways on his doorstep. “Paul Strand127

2008 DSBN Anthologyby Bradly ZdrilukBeamsville District — Grade 10128

2008 DSBN AnthologyForgive MeI see a light beyond my sight break through the blood stained glass.It strikes my skin, a warmth within, a fleeting memory passed.I smell the air that lingers there inside this soul of mine.A cry rings out, a violent shout, I’m running out of time.I feel my spirit drift away on wind kicked from a storm.Promises made, now debts unpaid, for I have been reborn.So many lies have compromised these walls that I’ve built up.I’d tear them down, right to the ground, if I had strength enough.I taste a tear, fuelling my fear, the lights are growing dim.My Saviour has forsaken me, for I’ve forsaken Him.My foulest deeds grow up like weeds, those who could count would see,Why I wish that I could come back, in hope you’d forgive me.by Josh RueggRidgeway-Crystal Beach S.S.Grade 12“Painting is just another wayof keeping a diary.”Pablo Picasso129

2008 DSBN AnthologySelf Portrait — by Leanne BrowningNiagara District — Grade 11Styled after Gustav Klimpt130

2008 DSBN AnthologyI Fell In LoveI fell in love with life,With the art of being wise,Not in learning but in peaceAnd in falling for the lies.So timid underneathIn the fleshy grace of love,When it partners with confusionAnd gives your heart a little shove.I fell in love with peace,When I heard you in your bedLetting whispers draw your dreams,And a smile inside your head.I fell in love with life,As if romanced by its years,And its hunger for my wisdomAs it settled all my fears.I fell in love with dreamsAnd that kissed my foolish heart,And I’m still in love with lifeAnd its always charming art.Fallingby Charles KyerSt. Catharines CollegiateGrade 12Poem by Megan Sandra Elizabeth McKeenE. L. Crossley SecondaryGrade 12131

2008 DSBN AnthologyList of Contributing SchoolsA. N. Myer SecondaryBeamsville DistrictBertieE. L. Crossley SecondaryE. W. FarrEden HighFort Erie SecondaryGlynn A GreenGordonGovernor SimcoeGracefieldGrapeviewGreendaleGrimsby SecondaryGroveJordanKate S. DurdanLakeviewMacKayNiagara DistrictOakridgeParkPort WellerPower GlenPrince of Wales S.Queen MaryRideway-Crystal Beach S.S.Senator GibsonSir Winston ChurchillSt. Catharines CollegiateThorold SecondaryWelland CenntenialWest ParkWestlane Secondary“Every child isan artist. Theproblem is howto remain anartist once wegrow up. “Pablo Picasso132

2008 DSBN AnthologyIndex by Author’s Last NameArroza, Mike (87)Bannerman, Grace (63)Barkway, Garrison (43)Barrett, Sierra (53)Bereczk, Natashay (17)Bi Shan Hu, Eva (40)Bolton, Dalton (17)Bourdeau, Meagan (69)Braun, Ethan (28)Bray, Samantha (22)Breton,Chris (119)Brown, Jeff (67)Browning, Leanne (130)Colas, Lisa (94)Colbow, Christyn (105)Crow, Hailiee (63)Crumb, Ms. Kristine (75)D’Angelo, Simone (97)Del-Giacco, Robert (120)Dellaire, Ashley (122)Dewar, Ellen (40)DiFilippo, Laura (114)Dodman, Craig (121, 123)Done, Alexy (42)Duffin, Sarah (127)Dyck, Mr. Kevin (39)Dykstra, Mrs. Magdolene (73)Felke, Melanier (15)Ferry, Lenny (116)Fong, Raymond (99)Fraser, Kendall (15, 16)Gadsby, Ben (41)Garzon, Ingrid (72)Gilmore, Alexandra (9)Gilmore, Adam(4)Godin, Kristen (8)Grimard, Teri (118)Haj-Ahmad, Mary (24)Halliwell, Cassandra(44)Hamelin, Mr. Gregory (76)Harder, Meaghan (93)Harper, Courtney (70)Hewitt, Aaron (72)Hilliker, Morgan (6)Hluska, Mike (front cover)Hobbs, Kendra (120)Hodgson, Ashley (70)Hofmann, Melina (104)Hogg, Jennifer (25)Imans, Logan (18)Irandost, Golestan(69)James, Kaitlin (21)Kahn, Rimsha (66)Kim, Allen (109)Klassen, Isaiah (96)Klotz, Lisa (110, 116)Kramer, Alyssa (62)Kuhn, Carla (42, 52)Kyer, Charles (131)LeTourneau, Stephane (108)Leveille, Eve (26, 34, 35)Lipp, Reiner (119)Loewen, James (64, 65)MacLean, Felicia (56)Martin, Chelsea (10)Mason, Spencer (19)Mattei, Gabi (22)McAvoy, Alex (124)McKeen, Megan (131)Meade, Madeline (36)Milinkovich, Devon (68)Miller, Mrs. Krista (74)Morrison, Billy (61)Mu, Shelly (30)Nebesio, Nestor (27)Neufeld, Thomas (88)Oatley, Carolyn (38, 51)Palani, Mahabad (68)Parton, Molly (57)Payne, Janelle (47)Pemberton, Sarah (27, 59)Pisano, Myra (71)Reitzenstein, Lorne (73)Rempel, Ashley (102)Ruetz, Karly (24)Richards, Melissa (70)Robertson, Max (123)Robinson, Chelsea (37)Rogers, Brynn (100)133

2008 DSBN AnthologyRogers, Ms. Jennifer (81)Rosts, Mikayla (58)Ruegg, Josh (126, 129)Sampson, Sage (39, 46)Scholtens, Benjamin (111)Scott, Shannon(21, 55)Screen, Jordan (48, 50)Shiner, Ms. Tay (84)Simpson, Michelle (5, 85, 122)Soderholm, Mr. Bruce 82)Sokol, Vanessa (86)Spenser, Colin (98)Stavrou, Autumn (63)Stuart, Sarah (102, 117)Theobald, Natasha (95)Thibault, Mitchell (60)Thompson, Claire (9)Toews, Ezra (41)Tomlinson, Amanda (59, 85)Traves, Mr. Brett (84)Tronzo, Samantha (125)Tsigirlash, Tanya (95)Unger, Kyle (57)Verworn, Evan (115)Wager, Gaby (112)Watson, Maggy (20)White, David (89)Williams, Amanda (31)Wilson, Connor (32)Yungblut, Elden (54)Zavarella, Rachael (83)Zdriluk, Bradley (128)Zeng, Snowden (23)“The artist doesnot see things asthey are, but ashe is.”Alfred Tonnelle134

2008 DSBN Anthology135