Volume 22, Number 127, June/July 2019 Manitoba Fair Laurent’s Story by Marcel Gervais
It was late August. It was time for people to prepare for the county fair in the village of St. Eustache, ten miles from our farm. This was a special time of excitement; women baked and cooked special meals of beans, and breads, and cakes and pies. The aroma of beautiful succulent foods was in the air, from farm to farm. City people didn’t ever get this excited about anything.
Mum baked white bread so light, so beautiful it had to be entered in the fair; we were sure she would win. She also entered her “brioches”, light bun-like bread pastries that were slightly sweetened, and absolutely delicious. She often made these for special celebrations.
The brilliant rays of the sun raced across the savannah and burst into the bedroom window of Charlie’s chalet. He leaped out of bed and quickly dressed. It was Day One of his wildlife safari in the magical Madikwe Game Reserve, and anticipation surged through his body. His group had arrived the previous evening and been briefed on park protocols before being wined and dined in an outdoor native ceremony.
The sun was already over the horizon so no need to call for a guide to escort him to the main lodge. Besides, he’d already had close encounters with tiny scorpions and giant spiders the day before so felt like he was ready to brave any peril.
Volume 22, Number 126, April/May 2019 Canada for All by Christine Graham
You know me
I am for peace, bravery, justice and freedom for all
You know me
I am over a century old but my dreams and visions are still young
I stand tall
High above, at the crown of the earth
As the eagles fly, my strength is renewed
There is a rebirth
My people tell their story and together we are one
From all walks of life under the blazing summer sun
Volume 22, Number 125, February/March 2019 Goalie Girl by Denyse Gervais Regan
The elevator doors opened and I looked up and up. Could it be, could it really be him? I had to ask, to know. “Are you, ah, Gordie Howe?”
He stuck out his hand and we shook. “Yes, I am.”
I was so flustered. “I’m Estelle Gauthier. Oh, my brothers are going to be so jealous. I have eight of them, brothers, I mean.” I was babbling, my mouth on a roll and I couldn’t stop it. “They played, lived and breathed hockey, Hockey, HOCKEY!” I stopped, took a breath and asked. “Do you have a minute?”
Volume 22, Number 125, February/March 2019 Snow Bank by James Deahl
After yellow autumn has passed from the trees,
although not from memory, great snows descend,
slowly filling firs and birch grove
initially with winter’s scent, later with their white weight.
Grey November yields to bright December,
an unsullied redemption for a year’s losses.
Gullies and north slopes fill, then melt, then fill again
until the big one comes that lasts three months or more,
every hollow choked by the frozen hand.