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~
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