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HomeMy WebLinkAboutTimes-Advocate, 1986-11-05, Page 4Page 4 ' Times -Advocate, November 5, 1986 Times Established 1873 Advocate Established 1881 Amalgama ed 1924 BLUE R!BBON AWARD imes - dvocate Published Each Wednesday Morning at Exeter, Ontario, NWM 1S0 Second Class Mail Registration Number 0386. Phone S19-235-1331 a PCNA as.: LORNE EEDY Publisher, JIM BECKETT Advertising Manager Bat BATTEN Editor HARRY DEVRIES Composition Manager ROSS HAUGH Assistant Editor DICK JONGKIND Business Manager SUBSCRIPTION RATES: Canada: $25.00 Per year; U.S.A. $65.00 C.W.N.A., O.C.N.A. CLASS 'A' The significance The following essay by Julie Doll, Fairview, Alberta, was the senior winner in the annual essay contest conducted by the Royal Canadian legion among students in Canadian schools. At a recent Remembrance Day ser- vice I stood alone amidst the crowd. I had nothing to do with the wars. I simply didn't understnad why we went through the motions of a service every year to re- mind ourselves of the horrors of war, violence and death. As I wondered, my eyes caught sight of an old man. He wore a beret and on his chest was pinned a bright red poppy. As the band played "0 Canada", his eyes welled with tears. Yet he sat erect with his hand elevated in a salute and proud- ly sang along. His body was maimed. He sat propped in his wheelchair and as I looked closer, I saw that he had no legs. He had been in the war and despite his phenomenal handicap, he made his way to the cenotaph to lay a wreath. I continued to wonder. This man, so obviously destroyed by the horrors of war continued his love of country and took an active part in the service. Then something else caught my eye. An elder- ly woman next to me clutched a yellow- ing picture of a handsome young man, and as the bagpipes played on, she smil- ed with pride and said to me as she tenderly caressed the frame, "You know, he died for freedom for you and me". The service was over, and soon I was left standing alone in front of the monu- ment. As I read the names of those peo- ple who died in the war, the words of that elderly woman kept running through my mind,".... freedom ... for you and me..." I continually envisioned the maimed old man singing "0 Canada" and I finally realized why I attended that Remem- brance Day service. Those brave men and women of days long past fought for me. They fought to preserve a way of life for their children and their children's children. They gave their lives for freedom. I realized that the memorial services were not to immortalize the suf- fering and hardship of war, but to instill in the hearts of all men and women the pride and bravery of our ancestors, and to help us prevent the tragedy of war from occurring again. - I finally understood that the world lay in our hands and that by having memorial services we would learn to pro- tect it from evil and love it like those brave men and women loved it...for all time. Emphasis shifts The annual horror stories related by Auditor -General Kenneth Dye about government spending errors and waste are almost as predictable as the outcome of the annual Rocky movies. However, for the first time in many years, Dye indicated there is some ele- ment of optimism and he has a "sense that there is an interest in better accoun- tability and better management". Whether that interest can generate some meaningful changes in the mam- moth goofs that cost Canadians millions of dollars each year remains to be seen, but at least there is some hope. In the past, beleagured taxpayers have assumed that the change depended to a great extent on the civil service, but Dye explains in this year's report that many of the decisions which waste enor- mous sums are made for political reasons by elected officials. One of the most glaring this year is the decision to build a $68 million prison in Prime Minister Brian Mulroney's riding. Not only is that cost almost $16 million more than the estimate for the original site, but Dye claims the correc- tional institution isn't needed at all because the nation has a surplus of jail cells in Quebec. No doubt some wag could suggest who could fill those cells in view of the pork barrel politics which appears to be replacing mismanagement as public enemy number one in Ottawa. Thought provoking Farm broadcaster Ross Daily is quite correct in noting that farmers have lost a large majori- ty of their friends through the re- cent decades as the population along the concession roads dwindles and the farm vote no longer carries the impact it once did. However, he was among those who had to be impressed with the program conducted last week for elementary school teachers in Exeter. and while it remains to he seen whether those in the au- dience will become, new-found allies of the farm community, there is no doubt they all went home with a much better understanding of the current agricultural scene. While i have attended only a few such professional develop- ment day programs in the past. i doubt that teachers have ever had such a va{id and encompass- ing program presented for their edification There was ample evidence that Huron County farmers still have a great many friends as over 80 individuals, businesses and com- modity groups rallied to provide produce, displays and other materia{ to better acquaint teachers of the current strengths and weaknesses in agriculture. The tone of the program was quickly established in the emo- tional address by Jack Wilkinson, second vice-president of the On- tario Federation of Agriculture. The role teachers can play in recognizing and reacting to the stress some of their students may be %rider was t"graphically • presented in terms that were im- possible to misconstrue. Itis comments.put into perspec- tive the importance of the day and no doubt altered con- siderably the way in which other exhibits and information were received. Daily's use of humor served to punctuate and emphasize the not- Batt'n Around ...with The Editor so -funny things that are going on in agriculture and the tremen- dous number of social and moral issues that the students in today's classrooms will have to resolve. if they are going' to resolve them satisfactorily. it is im- perative that they be given all the information required to make enlightened decisions. One professional development day does obviously not provide teachers with the expertise necessary to provide that infor- mation. but it hopefully has pro- vided the spark and challenge that is needed to convince teachers,y )f the important role they can and must play. To a considerable extent, the program was presented to an au- dience in which there were '1 already many confirmed believers. There were those who could have testified that their off - farm income as teachers was a requirement at times to get over some of the humps in their fami- ly agricultural operations. Many others have come from rural backgrounds and hopefully those who haven't recognize the need to acquaint themselves with the lifestyles of their students so they can he effective and understanding. As the speakers noted, children stepping off the buses from their farm homes come from situa- tions that are very diversified. Old MacDonald's farm no longer exists and the child who hears an oink, oink here, represents a far different set of circumstances than the child who hears a moo, moo there. If teachers. as well as other professionals in the community, have to recognize and deal with the stresses of those with whom they work, it is necessary that they know where those stresses are most likely to originate. The current agricultural situa- tion is highly complex. Last week's program organizers and all who contributed should be commended for initiating challenges and deliberations in which everyone in the communi- ty must hecofne more knowledgeable. The generation in the classroom will certainly have many issues to resolve, but there are just as many which must be resolved before the task is hand- ed over to them. 4) Serving South Huron, North Middlesex North Lambton Since 1873 Published by I.W. Eedy Publications Limited REM) All ABOUT IT! ?OL1TICU\t WND WHO HA1tT WRITTEN I\ BOOK TR1S1EA1! A strange species We are a strange species. We can't be happy unless we manipulate and change the world we live in. f. The Other creatures who share this planet with us have little trouble living the way nature in- tended them to live. And not so long ago, your ancestors and mine were also able and willing to adapt to whatever environ- ment they were born into. The Bedouins managed to thrive in the desert as well as the Inuit did in the Arctic. The Nepalese were satisfied with making their home on the Roof of. the World - the Himalayas. And the Dutch did well not only at but below sea level. Not us. We've got to turn everything topsy-turvy. If we live in a sand box, we dig irrigation canals and pretend we're somewhere else. If we live in a marsh, we lay drainage pipes and let the water run off. People on islands build bridges or causeways or tunnels. Our family lives in a forest. Looking at an aerial photograph of our township, yob can hardly find the few inhabited places that dot the landscape made up of bush, lakes and rivers. Since time immemorial, mankind has done very well in the forest, from Cro-Magnon Man to the Woodland Indians. Hun- dreds of generations have come' and gone who knew nothing but the forest. We should be glad to live in this healthy, natural environment to- day. And we would be contented with it if somebody hadn't in- vented the lawn mower and the leaf rake. Our home is surrounded by stately trees, with maple, ash, butternut and cedar predominating. Throughout the year we are proud of these trees. They are picturesque, they give us shade, they provide homes for our feathered friends. But in the fall, our trees sud- denly become a problem to us, or so we say. As soon as their splen- did autumn colours are at the peak, we must dispose of the dead leaves that fall on our pride and joy - our lawn. Because we think that leaves mess up the place. Ever since some tinkerer who probably lived in a suburb of Lon- don, England, invented a machine that cuts grass faster and more efficiently than a sickle, the whole western world has gone lawn crazy. Everybody wants to live on a golf course. That's the fashion. Well, nuts to fashion! Elizabeth has been hinting for three weeks now. She leaves the rakes stan- ding around, one at each door. She starts to make little piles of leaves on the patio and on the gravel walks. And she draws my attention to cleanly -raked lawns in the neighbourhood. Frankly, I'm tired of raking leaves. I don't enjoy getting blisters, and I'm not crazy about taking load after enormous Load of dead leaves to my "dumping site". I don't mind cleaning up the flower beds, but I do mind raking an acre of lawn. I have just communicated with my forest ancestors. They were healthy, happy and relaxed forest dwellers from way back. They have convinced me that a natural litter of leaves is more beautiful than a lawn that has to be pampered, cut, fertilized, raked and cut again forever and over and still has more dandelions, clover, plantain and wild strawberries per square meter than grass. From now.on, let the leaves fall and provide us with a beautiful. durable, soft carpet of natural lit- ter. What is wrong with a house surrounded by a forest floor? i1 will be so easy. No more noisy lawn mowers, no more stooping down to clip blades of grass with dull edge shears, no more water- ing, no more chemical fertilizer. no more herbicides, no more blisters. Easy. On the other hand, there is one hurdle to overcome, and that won't be easy. 111 have to con- vince Elizabeth that I'm not just rationalizing. That J'rn not just inventing all this stuff about forest an$estors and ecological environment because I'm too lazy to rake the leaves. You believe me, don't you? So why can't she? One room school I was lucky enough to go to a one -room schoolhouse for my last year of elementary school. It was one mile outside of Georgetown, Ontario, right on Highway 7. There were only three of us in grade eight, none in grade seven, but a whole raft in the lower grades. 1 consider myself lucky because of a different style of teaching that was used in that classroom. We senior students were expected to be responsible for others, to pitch in and help with the little ones when we got our own work finished and to help supervise at recess by organizing games. The teacher never got outside at recess for yard duty. She was too busy putting work on the blackboards. if there was a fight outside or a problem, somebody would run in and get her. Since I only lived about a hun- dred yards away i used to go home for lunch. That's probably the only reason my bacon got. saved the day of the big snowball fight. She had warned us about throwing snowballs but I guess the urge was too much that par- ticular day. Anyway when I got back to school 1 looked in the win - By the Way by Syd Fletcher dow. There were seven boys lin- ed up by the blackboard and she was going down the line, giving each one of them the strap. Ire those days the teacher was rated in some large degree by the quality of the Christmas concert she put on. The last month before Christmas everybody worked on learning their little recitations and on the night of the concert the place was totally packed out. It was one of *the big social events of the year for the community. I remember that the County Library used to send out a big box of about 200 books to the school each year. 1 remember it because 1 ploughed my way through every one of them that winter. It seem- ed like a real gift to me to have all those exciting books right there in my own classroom. That had never happened in any of the city schools that i had attended. That same year We itinerant music teacher who came each week took an interest in me. Sure 1 had sung in choirs of :nany voices before but in this little school i was made to feel impor- tant. She took it upon herself to register me in the Halton County Music Festival and even delivered me there herself. i won a tiny gold medal which i still have some thirty years later. I'll not forget that little one room school. •