The DPA staff would like to wish you a Merry Christmas and a

Happy New Year! We could never put this newsletter together without your support and participation; we would therefore like

to take this time to tell you so and give you our sincerest thanks. We wish you and yours a blessed Christmas season,

and look forward to your continued support.

-The DPA Staff

Drawing by Lea

On a Holy Night By Elizabeth Cairnie

O Holy Night, the stars are brightly shining

Starlight filters down through time,

And floats upon the nightfall;

Candle flames set in the sky,

To guide the wanderers’ footfall.

It is the night of our dear Savior’s birth

The world is strained with anxious stillness,

Waiting soundless for a Child,

Promised once an age ago,

When Man had been exiled.

Long lay the world in sin and error pining

A fog that blankets like a shroud,

And stifles faith with fear,

That swallows whole the sick at heart,

And is moistened by their tears.

Till He appeared and the soul felt its worth

So unassuming lying soft,

Upon the golden hay,

But luminescent grace shines forth,

And beckons those astray.

A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices

A quiver races through the night,

As a stone dropped in the sea;

Men’s hearts to hopeful brim are full,

Of their humanity.

For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn

A clear elucidation plays,

A tune upon the skyline;

Apathy’s pall has been cast off,

By rays of love divine.

Fall on your knees

The shepherds and the noble kings,

Are now as compeers bent,

Offering gifts within them found,

And in their hearts repent.

O hear the angel voices

Upon the air resounds a song,

As shining as the mist;

A ceaseless movement swaying round,

Which time has never kissed.

O night divine, O night when Christ was born

The Savior now has come to earth,

His truth and glory shine!

It is indeed a holy night,

A holy night divine!

PRAYER FOR BEFORE

STUDYNG OR READING

A prayer which St. Thomas Aquinas was

accustomed to recite every day before

the image of Jesus Christ.

Concede mihi, misericors Deus, quae tibi

placita sunt ardenter concupiscere,

prudenter investigare, veraciter agnoscere et

perfecte adimplere, ad laudem et gloriam

nominis tui. Amen.

GRANT me grace, O merciful God, to desire

ardently all that is pleasing to Thee, to

examine it prudently, to acknowledge it

truthfully, and to accomplish it perfectly, for

the praise and glory of Thy name. Amen.

Indulgence of 300 days to all the faithful who,

before studying or reading, shall recite this

prayer. — Leo XIII., June 21, 1879.

Long, long, and many years ago This language first appeared; For men grew loose With their words’ use ‘Til even God’s eyes teared Men swore and cursed with tongues of hate And many a word was altered, Once innocent Now meanings bent On bad; and so men faltered These altered words, they blackened hearts And actions followed suit In all the earth Filled evil mirth Of Satan’s stamping boot All men grew coarse with disrespect And scorned all morals with sneers, While women vain With words profane, Mocked modesty with jeers And guardian angels cried their tears And asked for mercy from God To set things right Before the night Claimed many from devils’ fraud

Though men deserved eternal fire, From word and deed alike, Our God above So full of love Gave men tools with which to fight “It started,” said He, “with words of tongue, So ended shall it be.” And none could talk All stood and gawked ‘Til God set their tongues free As each angel softly touched the lip Of their small human charge, Immediately, There swept forth a sea As innocent words took new charge A fresh new language full of good, All pure and fair and sweet, And kindness ruled While honesty fueled Those contemplating deceit And so we should think how important Are all the words we say, For tongues oft show Where actions will go; Keep your words kind today!

1¼ cups white sugar

2/3 cup coconut milk

¼ cup salted butter

16 marshmallows (normal size)

¾ lb. semi-sweet chocolate chips

1 tbsp. vanilla extract

1½ cups coconut shavings

Combine the sugar, milk, butter, and marshmallows in a medium saucepan over medium high heat. Stir constantly until

mixture is smooth. When mixture comes to a boil, continue stirring for about 5 minutes. Remove from heat. Add chocolate

chips, vanilla, and 1 cup of coconut shavings. Stir until the chips have melted. Pour into a greased or buttered pan. Garnish with remaining coconut shavings. Let it sit in the

fridge until firm. Enjoy!

The Onyx Legacy

By Mara Ng

Part 6

—◊♦◊~◊♦◊—

Cassidy closed the door of the

maintenance closet, and sighed deeply.

“Phew! I finally lost E.T. She sure is persistent,

running after me all this way. Not to

mention scary with that look in her eyes!”

She let herself sink slowly to the ground. She

took a picture of her parents from her bag

and stared sadly. “Mom, Dad,” she

whispered, “why is it all coming back? I

can remember everything again. You

wanted the three of us to forget it all and

live a peaceful life…but we’re being pulled

back into this mess because of me! I’m

really sorry I broke my promise!”

Cassidy could see it all again.

The Onyx Special Research Armory was

originally established by their parents with

the help of their mom’s brother. All of them

were scientists, but they each had their

own specialties. Their mom was a doctor,

their father was a chemist, and their uncle

made different types of weapons for the

army. When the Korius Disease surfaced,

their mother was one of the doctors who

searched for the cure, but all attempts

ended in failure.

At the same time, her brother, their

uncle, was making a certain type of

weapon for soldiers who were greatly

wounded in action. It was a microchip put

into their brains that would help them

control robotic arms or legs or even some

weapons. When several of the soldiers with

the microchip got infected by the disease,

none of them died—though they all lost

their memories.

After this, all three scientists agreed to

form the Onyx Special Research Armory in

their search for the cure. The Onyx Project

was made with the microchip as the basis

to find a better cure.

While they worked unceasingly, the

OSRA headquarters was repeatedly

attacked by people who wanted the cure.

These people had many different reasons.

Some wanted to sell it, others needed it

desperately to cure themselves or people

they knew, and many wanted to use it so

that they would be immune to the disease.

As a result of the attacks, they needed

people to maintain tight security over the

facilities. That was how the OSRA Legacy,

or Onyx Legacy, was established.

Many of the first members were other

scientists who took professional training for

combat, espionage, and other useful

things. Then many children of those

scientists began to train as well in

reconnaissance because they all lived in

the OSRA facilities. Cassidy also joined

them, but Nick and Kate were still too

young.

Despite all the measures they took to

protect the scientists and the data on the

cure—which was still too unstable and

dangerous, they never suspected that one

of their own would betray them. One of

the scientists who caught the disease was

trying to get his hands on the cure for

himself. When he finally obtained the

microchip and implanted it in his brain, he

experienced many painful and sickening

side effects. This fueled him to seek

revenge on those who started the Onyx

Project and failed to find the cure. He

triggered an explosion in one of the

facilities, which burned many of the

buildings down, and killed many people in

the process.

When the fire started, their parents

immediately brought Nick, Kate, and many

other children and patients safely out of

the building. Cassidy was nowhere to be

seen, but when they went back to look for

her, they discovered her helping some of

the other scientists preserve the data. They

yelled at them to get outside, and told

Cassidy to find her siblings while they would

preserve the cure themselves.

Cassidy followed their orders, took Nick

and Kate to a safer place, and returned to

the front of the building to wait for her

parents. It seemed like ages until she finally

saw them running for the entrance. But just

when they were nearing the door, the roof

collapsed, barring the way.

Cassidy screamed their names and tried

to get people to help her open the

entrance, but no one was around.

Suddenly, from a small crack in the

blocked entrance, her parents were

calling her. They told her to be brave for

her siblings, and entrusted a small black

stone on a string to her.

“Cassidy, we will always love you and

Nick and Kate,” her mother tried to keep

her voice steady, but Cassidy could hear it

faltering. “Take this necklace and keep it

safe. We’re entrusting the cure to you now.

Can you do this for us, Cassidy?”

“Y—yes,” she managed in between

sobs.

“That’s our girl,” her father sounded like

the proud father he always was. “Don’t

worry about us, Cassidy. We’ll love you

always, and we’ll meet again in heaven

someday.”

Cassidy tried to stop herself from

bawling.

“Just remember this, Cassidy,” her

parents were breathing heavily due to the

smoke. “The key is in Orion’s belt.”

Then the building collapsed.

Cassidy fell onto her knees, unable to

process what was happening. She felt

alone. There was no one around, and now

her parents were gone. She was frozen in

that position, grasping the necklace in her

hands. Afterwards, she had no idea or

recollection of what she did. All she

remembered was waking up in a hospital

with her tearful little siblings staring at her

face and begging her not to die like their

parents.

“I promise I’ll never leave you alone.”

She told them firmly. “I promise.”

Later on, an old doctor and trusted

friend of their parents from the OSRA

Legacy told her that they couldn’t find the

scientist who started the fire. They didn’t

find their uncle either, so they assumed he

was dead.

“So, we’re alone now,” Cassidy choked

while rubbing the onyx with a tissue.

“What’s going to happen to us?”

“You will be sent to an orphanage far

from here. You’re name will no longer be

Onyx. You must forget everything about

the OSRA and the Korius disease,” the old

doctor said firmly but with a tinge of pity.

“I’m afraid we all have to go into hiding for

now, little one. There is no other way. The

man who did all this is still out there. And

he’s looking for all of us right now.” He

glanced at his watch. “I’m afraid I too

must leave you now. I have stayed here

too long.” He put his hand on her head.

“Be brave for your little brother and sister.

Take care of them well.”

“What about the people who are sick

with the disease? What will happen to

them?”

The doctor’s eyes glistened with tears. “I

didn’t want to tell this to such a young

child, but I suspected that you would ask

me this.” He paused for a few seconds.

“None of those in our care survived. It truly

is a great tragedy.”

Cassidy was on the verge of tears, but

the old doctor stopped her from crying.

“Now, now. You have a duty to protect

your younger siblings. I’m sure your parents

would have expected you to do so.” He

sighed. “And now, I must go. Take care! All

we can do now for the people who have

suffered is pray for them. You will pray? Yes,

yes, of course you will. Ha! I do hope we

will never have to meet again. That would

mean that danger has resurfaced. That is

not a good thing at all. No. Well! God

protect us all! And now, goodbye, young

Onyx! I must go.”

Cassidy tried her best to summon

enough courage while the old doctor

walked out of the room with a sad smile.

“I’ll protect them, doctor. We have to stick

together because we only have each

other now.”

Cassidy’s eyes were stinging, and her

heart felt heavy. She sighed deeply. “Why

do I feel so terrible? I know it’s because I

had to lie to Nick, Kate, and Evelyn about

a lot of things, but.... I can’t let anyone else

get hurt. They entrusted the key to me, so I

should look for it. I’ve caused everyone

enough trouble already, so it’s the least I

could do.”

Beep. Beep. Beep. “This way! This way,

Miss Evelyn!” the robot squealed.

“Oh no. Not REU02 again!” She left the

maintenance closet and ran through the

bright platinum-walled corridors without

knowing where she was going. “I wonder if

I’ll see Iris or Lynette. I really hope they

haven’t been pulled into this mess

though.”

Cassidy ran and glanced behind every

few minutes. Soon enough, she ran into

another person.

“Ow!” Cassidy fell onto the floor. “Sorry. I

wasn’t looking.”

The man offered her a hand. “That’s

fine. I didn’t break anything, although you

look like you need to see a doctor with

that exhausted face.”

When she looked at the man in the light,

she saw a tall, young teenager, probably

around her age. He had amber eyes that

were nearly light brown but seemed to

change to a golden shade under the light.

His hair was a dark blond color with a few

strands covering his eyes. And his eyes

seemed to twinkle while he smiled

mischievously. She had to admit, he was

pretty handsome. When she looked closer,

Cassidy gasped.

“Spencer! Oh my gosh! Is it really you?”

Cassidy asked. “You’ve grown up so much!

What are you doing here? It’s been years

since we last saw each other!”

“Cassidy Onyx,” he laughed. “To think

we’d actually meet again this way. So,

why are you crying this time?” He smiled.

“I’m sure it’s not something stupid like the

last time you bumped into me. Anyway, it’s

really nice to see you again. But honestly, I

wasn’t able to recognize you at first. You’re

starting to look more like your mom.”

“I’m not crying. And seriously? I look like

my Mom? How do you expect me to

believe that?” Cassidy snorted. She

couldn’t believe it because everyone said

her mother was very beautiful. “I don’t look

anything like her.”

“That’s not true! You look really pretty.”

Cassidy blushed.

“You’re not the same scary little kid you

used to be,” he teased. “Always shouting

out orders and making us do all those extra

exercises. Ah! You really were the drill

sergeant of Onyx Legacy.”

Cassidy frowned and rolled her eyes.

Annoying. She thought. “Anyway, are

Lynette and Iris here too?”

“You haven’t seen them?” Spencer

asked. “I haven’t seen them either. Maybe

they’re not coming back. I know they

survived the fire, but I don’t remember

seeing them after that.” They both paused

for a while. Anything about the fire

sobered them. “So, what have you been

doing the past few years?” Spencer asked

after a pause.

“Nothing really,” Cassidy answered.

“Just trying to lie low. Well, until now at

least. You?”

“Same. Trying to lie low with my dad. All

these years, he’s still been trying to find a

cure.”

That’s right. His parents were also

scientists working on the cure. Cassidy

could remember them. They were good

people who were great friends of their

parents. It was really sad, the old doctor

told her, but only Spencer’s dad survived

after OSRA was destroyed. Spencer’s mom

passed away because of an asthma

attack from the excessive smoke.

“So, what brings you here, Cassidy? We

were called back here after the new OSRA

HQ was finished. We received a message

from E.T. telling us to come here to

continue the research on the cure. It’s not

as dangerous as it used to be. Since the

disease hasn’t been as wild as it was back

then, there aren’t many people scrambling

for the cure. Since you’re not a researcher,

it really has me wondering why you’re

here.”

Cassidy didn’t know what to say. So

many things had happened. It would be

such a long story if she told him everything.

“Well, it’s a really long story, so let me just

say that E.T. found us and brought us back

here for… protection.”

“‘Protection’? ‘Us’? So your genius

younger brother and your younger sister

are here too?” Spencer smiled. “I wonder

how much they’ve grown! They were only

five years old, right?” He gasped, and then

paused. They both knew it sounded just like

saying: they were five years old when your

parents died. “I’m sorry, we weren’t able to

meet after the fire, so I wasn’t able to say

this before.” He sighed. “I’m really, really

sorry about your parents. It must have

been hard on the three of you.”

Cassidy nodded her head. “I’m really

sorry about your mom too.” She didn’t

want to say anything about her own

parents because Spencer would hear her

voice shaking.

They paused for a while, Cassidy

maintaining a steel-like defense to hide her

own grief while Spencer had an air of

sadness.

“But still…” Spencer smiled at her. “Nick

and Kate are luckier than I am.”

“What?” Cassidy looked at him

cynically. “That’s a weird thing to say

about children who lost both their parents.

You still have your dad.”

Spencer gave her an impish smile.

“That’s true, but that’s not what I meant. I

said they’re lucky because they have a

really cool sister who’s always watching

over them.”

She shook her head. “Trust me; I’m not

that good a sister.”

“Oh? Well, I’m sure you’ll resolve

whatever argument you just had. After all,

you have to stick together because you

only have each other left, right?”

“Hey, those words—”

“Hmm? What about them?” He asked

lightheartedly.

“—so you were actually there?”

“Ohhh…” Spencer pointed at his watch.

“Oh, look at the time! Haha. I’ve got to go

now.” He walked away briskly.

“Wait!”

Spencer turned his head to look at her,

and smiled playfully. “It was nice to see

you again, Cassidy Onyx!”

Cassidy shook her head. Spencer was

still annoying as ever even though he had

grown so much.

You look really pretty now. She felt

embarrassed at his words. “Argh! What’s

wrong with me?! Snap out of it, Cassidy.

You look nothing like Mom! That annoying

brat needs to have his eyes checked

because he’s really wrong about that! But

still… What he said that time was right. We

only have each other.” She sighed. “I

guess I was in the wrong this time. I’ll go

back and apologize to Nick, and get the

key back. I still have to keep my promise to

Mom and Dad. I’ll take care of them, and

find the cure at the same time.”

to be continued....

Batter:

2 ½ cups of almond

flour

½ teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon ground

cinnamon

¼ teaspoon salt

2 eggs

½ cup yogurt

½ cup honey

Topping:

¾ tablespoon of ground

cinnamon

2 tablespoons honey

1 tablespoon melted

butter

Directions:

Preheat the oven to

325° Fahrenheit. Mix

all dry batter

ingredients together in

a medium bowl. Add wet

batter ingredients.

Pour into muffin cups.

Mix all topping

ingredients. Drizzle

over muffins. Bake for

20-30 min or until

lightly brown and tooth

pick comes out with

only small crumbs.

Enjoy!

BY ANGIE SWINNEY

“Flight of the Christmas Star”

By Aug Trembilanse

O Christmas Star, what did you see

On that night, twice a thousand years ago?

What happened? What was to be?

What did you see? What did you know?

King, Shepherd, Wise men three, and lo!

Angels from above sing so:

“Glory to God, and on earth, peace among men!”

O Christmas Star, strength and love both,

Where the great god of Olympus reigning

And gentle Venus plight their troth.

O Star who on the world gently raining

Light, guiding those who were remaining

Away from the babe in the cave, feigning

Indifference, but desiring the Son of Man.

O Christmas Star, what did you see

In the rich courts and halls of stone

By the gardens and fountains and trees?

The King of Judah on his throne,

Herod the Great, waiting alone

For the wise men, had, in his heart, sown

The seed of hatred for the King of Men.

O Christmas Star, you Herod saw

But did not comprehend your meaning.

He did not obey the sacred Law

Of God in life, so passed the night seeming

Not to notice the sky teeming

With angels silently proclaiming:

“Glory to God and on earth, peace among men!”

O Christmas Star, what did you see

On the fields of the sheep? Shepherds of the plains

Watching the flocks, humming quietly,

When from on high a heavenly spirit came.

“A child is born!” he proclaimed,

And the celestial choirs chanted the refrain:

“Glory to God and on earth, peace among men!”

O Christmas Star, what did you see?

Three Magi coming from afar,

Traveling through the town of Galilee,

Following you, bright shining Christmas Star,

To the stable in Bethlehem, cold and dark,

But warm and bright by the Savior’s light, marred

Not by evil and sin, the stable where was born the Son of Man.

O Christmas Star, what did you see

In Israel, that House of Bread?

A baby cuddled on his mother’s knee

In a cave where the animals are fed,

By the child, three great kings were led,

Shepherds worshipped and the Angels said:

“Glory to God and on earth, peace among men!”

"What is Laughter?"

By Elizabeth Cairnie

What is laughter but a brook?

And sorrow but a cloud?

With upset falling like a hail

To lie upon the ground.

Be then aloneness but a fog

that furrows into night?

And tingling morning mist a sea,

translucent with delight?

Photos by Anna

“Where Do They All Come

From?”

by Madison Kearney

2012 Seton Grad

Sammy leaned his curly head

against the window, and watched the trees

and power lines blur past. His little hands

were clasped protectively on the precious

carton of eggs Mother had entrusted to

him. He could hear the soft drizzle that

harmlessly struck the windshield, and saw

the wipers rudely cast the droplets aside.

His mother’s small hat titled from side to

side as she hummed softly to the new song

playing on the radio, her hands upon the

steering wheel. Sammy looked back out

the window as Paul McCartney crooned:

“Eleanor Rigby picks up the rice in the

church where a wedding has been – lives

in a dream . . .”

At this line, Sammy frowned as a

thought hit his young mind. He turned it

over and over like a pancake, until it could

be put into words. “Mother,” he spoke, “do

you think Miss Freeman across the street

is like the lady in the song?”

“What?” Mother exclaimed,

surprised.

“Eleanor Rigby,” Sammy continued.

“Don’t you think she and Miss Freeman

have a lot in common?”

“Well, I –” Mother stammered.

Sammy could see that Mother did

not understand him. “Well,” he explained

patiently, his olive eyes wide and solemn,

“they are both very lonely ladies and

probably quite sad, aren’t they?”

“Yes, I suppose so, dear.”

“But why?” Sammy asked, though

more to himself. “Why are they so sad and

lonely? Why aren’t they happy like

everyone else?”

“We mustn’t speculate about other

people,” Mother chided gently. “It is

unkind.”

So Sammy did not say another word

about Miss Freeman, but when he got

home and helped Mother take in the

groceries, Sammy went up to his room to

stare thoughtfully at the shabby little

cottage across from his own pleasant,

cheerful home.

He did not know Miss Freeman. All

he knew was that she was a queer old lady

whom everyone avoided because of her

bad luck, whatever that was. She was a

thin, frail woman in her early seventies,

and had lived in that house ever since she

was a little girl. Her daily routine never

changed. Early in the morning, rain or

shine, she would go tend to her garden.

Then her errand boy would arrive with

whatever items she needed for the day.

Then she vanished into the house and did

not show herself until three o’ clock

struck. At that hour, Miss Freeman would

appear at the window, wearing dainty

clothes, a prim, laced hat, and a bit of red

lipstick, as if she was going to church. And

there she would sit. And sit. And sit until

the city clock tolled five. Then she would

draw the curtain and disappear until the

rosy touch of dawn stirred her.

“All the lonely people, where do

they all come from?”

Sammy did not know why she sat

there; indeed, no one did. There were

rumors and theories, but the people

preferred to ignore Miss Freeman

altogether. Sammy thought this shunning

made her sad. He had ridden past her

house twice on his bicycle, and had seen

that her eyes were dim and lifeless. She

never smiled back when he tentatively

waved, but watched him with a dull stare

before bending her creaking back over the

pumpkin patch. Sammy felt sorry for her.

His young heart protested at the thought

that one could be so miserable. Life was so

good and beautiful. Miss Freeman should

enjoy it.

A week later, Sammy entered the

kitchen, drawn by the aroma of cookies.

“Chocolate chip!” he cried. “Mother, can I

have one, please?” Mother merely smiled

and raised her eyes expectantly. Sammy

grinned, embarrassed. “Mother, may I

have a cookie, please?” he tried again.

“Yes, you may, dear,” Mother

smiled approvingly.

Sammy bit into the warm, soft

cookie, and tasted the chocolate melting on

his tongue. Then after that first savor, he

devoured it in a heartbeat. Sammy leaned

his stool against the counter and observed

Mother’s quick and expert hands.

“Mother,” he said suddenly, “may I

take some of those cookies over to Miss

Freeman?”

Mother smiled gently. “Yes, you

may. I think she’d like that. Just make sure

you only give her the cookies – don’t

bother her. And be on your best behavior,”

she added encouragingly as she saw

Sammy and the cookies safely out the

door.

Sammy felt a bit shaky in the knees

as he crossed the street. The afternoon was

cloudy, and the breeze swept the leaves on

Miss Freeman’s porch with a crisp whish.

He went up the creaky steps, and then

held his breath as he knocked. He shifted a

little as several seconds passed, then

straightened instantly when a lock was

unchained. The door opened to reveal a

small old woman with half-moon glasses

and a ball of powdered, curled hair.

“Miss Freeman?” Sammy said

hesitantly, looking in awe at the recluse.

“My name is Sammy, and I live across

from you. My mother thought you might

like some cookies.” He offered her the

flowered tin, which she slowly accepted.

She studied it for a moment, holding it in

her bony hands. “They’re chocolate chip

cookies,” Sammy ventured.

Miss Freeman nodded, then peered

at the boy. “Would you – would you like

to come in?” Her voice was high and

raspy.

“Mother says I’m not to bother

you,” Sammy answered innocently.

“It would be no bother.” She glanced

from the tin to the boy, unsure of how to

address a child. “I can’t eat all these

cookies by myself,” Miss Freeman tried to

smile, though she was too harsh. “The

milk man just came by this morning.”

So Sammy stepped in at her bidding,

and found himself in a dark little entry

hall. A mirror and a square wooden table

with a jar on it stood by the door. He

followed her past a prim sitting room with

old, soft furniture. This room, too, was

dim. The kitchen was better lit, and

possessed many feminine charms, though

they were all of bygone days. The lace was

yellow, and the flowers were crumbled and

deceased. Miss Freeman took two china

plates from a little cupboard, setting two

cookies on one plate and, after a moment’s

consideration, three cookies on the second.

After laying the plate of three before

Sammy, she poured two glass goblets of

milk. She sat down and folded a laced

napkin on her flowered lap before taking a

cookie and dipping it into her milk. It was

then that she saw Sammy regarding her.

“Don’t you dunk your cookies?” she

demanded harshly.

“Oh yes,” Sammy nodded

vigorously. “But I thought you did it

because you were like my grandpa.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, ma’am, he doesn’t have any

teeth.”

“Well,” Miss Freeman answered in

a superior manner, “I am happy to say that

I have all of my teeth. But it is a habit

from my girlhood,” she admitted with a

tiny, wistful smile.

At that moment, the grand clock in

the parlor cried three. Miss Freeman

looked up and rose, laying her dishes on

the counter. Sammy followed her, curious,

as she went into the entry hall. As she

began to reach for the jar, lyrics swarmed

into Sammy’s head: “Waits by the

window, wearing the face that she keeps in

a jar by the door . . .”

“Who is it for?” Sammy heard

himself murmur.

Miss Freeman turned to him.

“Arnold,” she whispered. She returned to

adjusting her hat. “Will you sit with me?”

she asked when her lipstick was on.

Sammy nodded and followed the old lady

into the parlor, where she drew back the

rose-colored curtain and sat upon a baby-

blue sofa. Sammy took a peach armchair,

and was respectfully silent, forcing himself

to stay still.

Half an hour crawled slowly by.

Sammy was wondering if his mother

would mind that he did not come home

when suddenly, Miss Freeman spoke.

“He was going to come home,” she

murmured, gazing down the street. “I

received a letter from him – it’s still in my

pocket.” She extracted an aged bit of

paper. “He was in France at the time. He

told me he would come home on the two

forty-five train. His last lines were ‘Wait

for me, dearest Bertha; we won’t be apart

much longer.’ I believed him. I loved him

and had every confidence in him. And so I

waited for him. But he didn’t come.

Instead, a strange army man came at five

and told me that Arnold was dead. That

Arnold wasn’t coming back. Even when I

touched his coffin, I could not believe it.

He told me he would come for me and that

I was to wait. And so I have waited. For

forty-eight long years I’ve waited, and I’ll

wait until I die.”

Suddenly, the clock announced five

o’ clock. Miss Freeman sighed. “But

Arnold isn’t coming today.” Turning to

Sammy, she asked, “Would you like to

come again sometime?”

“Oh, yes,” Sammy nodded.

Once he was home, Mother did not

scold but merely hugged Sammy. After he

had told her about his afternoon, she shook

her head. “That poor lady,” she sighed,

kissing Sammy.

As the boy went to wash for dinner,

he found himself wondering, “All the

lonely people, where do they all belong?”

He visited Miss Freeman, bringing a

small casserole. Once again, he sat quietly

with her.

“I fell in love with him almost

instantly. We met at a carnival – the same

one you have here every year – and he

spilled his drink all over my crisp white

dress, spoiling it. I was angry and shocked

at first, but he apologized so beautifully

and for so long that I had to forgive him.

My brother knew him from college, and

invited him to join our little group. He

was a very amiable and easy boy, and it

was clear that he fancied me. It was not

long before he started coming to the house

. . .”

“Then came the Great War,” she

continued another time. “I didn’t want

him to go, but he was so determined and

patriotic . . . and I knew in my heart that I

would have hated him if he hadn’t gone.

But I was always so afraid for him. But

never mind, he’ll come back, just not today

. . .”

After two months of visiting Miss

Freeman, Sammy saw her one Sunday at

church – the first time she had appeared in

public in forty-eight years. Mother nudged

Sammy, who turned back to the priest,

who was preaching half-heartedly to the

townspeople who did not want to be there.

Another line popped into Sammy’s mind:

“Father McKenzie writing the words of a

sermon that no one will hear . . .”

Later, Sammy hopped down the

steps, and saw Miss Freeman making her

way slowly to the sidewalk. The

townspeople eyed her warily, but made no

move to aid the old lady.

“Good morning, Miss Freeman,”

Sammy greeted politely.

Miss Freeman turned. “Oh,

Sammy!” Then she spied the staring,

judging people. “Go on, dear, I’ll be fine.

I’ll see you next week,” she smiled. Then

she hobbled out of the public gaze. Sammy

saw her that Saturday, and did so for a

year and a half, waiting, always waiting,

for the Arnold that never came. Miss

Freeman, meanwhile, grew weaker until

she could not leave her bed. Then one day,

Sammy entered the house to find the

parish priest with her.

“Miss Freeman?” Sammy said

anxiously.

“Sammy,” she whispered. “Wait

with me.”

Sammy held her hand while the

priest murmured prayers. Miss Freeman’s

breath became heavy, and she began to

murmur, “Arnold? Arnold? Does anyone

see him?”

“Not yet,” Sammy answered, his

throat tight. “But he’ll come – he said he

would.”

“Yes. Yes, he did.” Miss Freeman

was silent, and closed her eyes. Then she

sighed, “But he is not coming today . . .”

Sammy and his parents were the

only mourners at her funeral. Everyone

else kept to their houses on that cloudy,

misty morning. Once it was time to leave

the fresh grave, the last verses of “Eleanor

Rigby” rang through Sammy: “Father

McKenzie wiping the dirt from his hands

as he walks from the grave – no one was

saved . . . All the lonely people, where do

they all come from? All the lonely people,

where do they all belong

Olivia Plas

The Christmas Poem

By Kyra Clark

On this night not long ago,

Lay a babe all aglow.

Sleeping soundly amidst the hay,

While those around knelt to pray.

With the help from angels above,

Shepard’s came to show their love.

Rejoicing for the newborn king,

As angelic voices began to sing.

Wise men came to pay respect,

And upon their knees,

Cried and wept.

Here lay the silent child,

For whom we’ve waited all this while.

Christ the savior was born today,

And every year we celebrate,

The sacred birth of our holy king,

Blessed creator of all things.

May God protect you this coming year,

And rid your heart of any fear,

As we thank Christ for his trust,

The true reason of Christmas.

Manager: Ashley Miller

Assistant Manager:

Stephanie Miller

Editor: Natalie Kellner

Assistant Editor:

Mara Ng

Design: Mary Schmitt

Contributors:

~Anna~

~Nikolai Brelinsky~

~Elizabeth Cairnie~

~Felicia R~

~Madison Kearney~

~Kate Knighton~

~Lea~

~Mara Ng~

~Olivia Plas~

~Angie Swinney~

~Aug Trembilanse~