ELIMINATE THE NEGATIVE

Life is what you make it
it can be lived the way you choose,
in a fog of negativity
or the positive’s brighter hue.

One drags you down, makes you feel low
deprives you of your peace
the tree of self-esteem is felled
shoulders droop and smiles do cease.

Being positive on the other hand
promotes joy and good will,
spreads like ripples on the water
for all to drink their fill.

The down side fed by Satan
with his lies that kill our zeal,
there’s nothing he can offer
he has nothing that appeals.

When we meet a child of God
who’s lost the way of joy,
befriend him, help him find the way
back into God’s employ.

Just make a list of all the things
that God gives us everyday,
let the world know that you’ve chosen
to wear His smile and walk His way.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
May 19, 2007

WHEN LOVE IS FORGOTTEN

What has happened to the family
where sanity once reigned,
where we could talk about our differences
without hurtful words and pain.

Why do we have to scream and shout
I can’t stand it anymore,
it’s affected our health, I fear that our love
will be lost in the scuffle for sure.

Put ourselves into someone else’s shoes
and walk in them for a time,
we’d soon understand why they do what they do
they hurt just as we do you’ll find.

Lord help us untangle the mess of our lives
bring peace to the hearts of all men,
the hour is late and we cry for Your aid
please answer our prayer Lord, amen.

Margaret Rose Larrivee

May 17, 2007

THE FALL OF THE MIGHTY

Nimrod was a king in the Bible
who thought he was equal to God,
with all of his wealth and his inflated self
he had built a tower, the heavens to prod.

As the tower grew steadily higher
so too his ego did grow out of shape,
he pictured himself on a pedestal
what a mighty God he would make.

He couldn’t have known the Creator
or he wouldn’t have tried to outdo,
the one and only omnipotent being
the root of all love so true.

So higher and higher the tower did grow
and one day he climbed to the top,
with bow and arrow in hand, he took an arrogant stand
to the heavens his arrow he shot.

In a flash the wrath of God rained down
and flattened his tower so tall,
God gave different tongues to all who were there
they couldn’t understand each other at all.

With this lesson in hand they spread out o’er the land
with hearts more humble and true,
but I’m sad to say in our world today
we’re repeating the errors anew.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
May 17, 2007

WITH EACH NEW DAY I’M CLOSER

When I open my eyes each morning
to the miracle of a new day,
I thank You for granting to me the time
to make a difference in whatever way.

Lord you have the map of my journey
You know every twist and turn,
each place of rest Your Oasis
where in silence there’s so much to learn.

Each new day, another leg of my voyage
on the sea of Your Holy Love,
with a crew of Your Saints and Angels
these guides from heaven above.

My eyes are fixed on the glorious goal
that in Your goodness created for me,
each new day Lord I’m closer
to my eternal home with Thee.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
May 16, 2007

JUST DON’T TELL ME, SHOW ME

Words slip so easily off the tongue
sometimes without a thought,
the connection between it and the brain
this road at times is blocked.

‘I love you’ so easily spoken
then as we go about our day,
our actions speak another message
contrary to what we say.

Actions speak much louder
than words not connected to the heart,
it’s little daily acts of kindness
respect for one another to impart.

Listen when a loved one’s speaking
with your ears of head and heart,
don’t pretend to show an interest
they’ll know the truth right from the start.

When something means so much to us
we want to let them know,
to share with someone insincere
hurts and make our tears to flow.

What’s important to another
may mean nothing much to you,
when their sharing is rejected
what if it happened thus to you.

Do unto others always
what you’d have them do to you,
there’ll be fewer broken hearts
when our hearts become more true.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
May 14, 2007

THE NIGHT WATCH

Night after night I watch and wait
Your healing touch anticipate,
I know ‘twill come when least expected
my perseverance sorely tested.

In You Lord I place my trust
in my heart I know I must,
I’ve done all You asked me to
seek, ask and knock the thing to do.

Now I await Your healing touch
Your time not mine, to this truth I clutch,
I contemplate new health retrieved
dream of the joy, I’ll be relieved.

With strength renewed, I’ll give You Praise
sweet giver of mercy and of grace,
free to follow where You lead
wasted not this planted seed.

If perchance the answer’s no
forward Lord I still must go,
joined to Yours my pain and sorrow
You’ll lead me home when it’s the morrow.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
May 13, 2007

LILY OF THE VALLEY

Sweet lily of the valley
your essence drifting on the breeze,
so little, meek and humble
growing in the shade of mighty trees.

Mother Mary too a lily
whose essence wafts divine,
purest, fairest ever virgin
gift of the Father for all time.

Her gentle head bowed ever low
in deep unceasing prayer,
to intercede for all her children
that Jesus put into her care.

She cries now for their lack of love
the rejection of her Son,
who gave His life for one and all
His Sacrifice Salvation won.

She’s calling us from heaven
if we don’t soon take heed,
she’ll give in to our desires
as on earthly things we feed.

Her arm that held God’s hand aloft
from bringing down His wrath,
soon to vent His anger on the sinners
who’ve strayed far from His path.

Before this fated time arrives
all those with ears to hear,
listen to our Mother’s voice
for That Day is drawing near.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
May 12, 2007

MOTHERS THE WORLD OVER

If you put a pin into a map
for every mother on this earth,
there wouldn’t be a single space
empty round it’s girth.

Then on each pin is written love
for that’s what mothers are,
for they love with God’s agape love
shown to all both near and far.

The love of mothers wraps around
the world to those in need,
their arms, the arms of Jesus
their example like good seed.

This special love a gift from heaven
inborn their nurturing,
God’s plan was to give to everyone
someone to take away life’s sting.

When things go wrong they take you
into their arms and soothe,
whatever’s tearing at your heart
it’s frightened beats they smooth.

God bless them each and everyone
prepare their mansion there with you,
for their mother - hearts are spent in loving
all Your Children their lives through.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
May 12, 2007

PRECIOUS MEMORIES

Mother’s Day brings fondest memories
flooding back, your presence missed,
six long years have come and gone
since our farewells when we kissed.

Your smiling face still lingers
in my heart’s treasury,
and will until the end of time
for you meant so much to me.

All you taught us is as fresh today
as when spoken long ago,
your lessons on the ‘Golden Rule’
to our children now we show.

I pray that all your goodness
flows like a torrent through our veins,
and the pains you suffered for us
have not all been in vain.

I know you’re there with Jesus
living in His tender care,
and we await the day dear mother
when we go to meet you there.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
May 10, 2007

MARY’S ROSARY

Mother Mary has been sending
to all her children for some time,
messages of peace and pleading
shedding tears for all mankind.

She sees the depths of sinfulness
where we have come to dwell,
and her tears pour out in torrents
we hear not death’s warning knell.

Mary’s pleas of Pray, Pray, Pray
say the Rosary everyday,
if all were to heed this message
it could bring a brand new day.

Each Hail Mary prayed with fervour
will bring her mantle down,
to cover all our families
unity at last be found.

The Hail Mary’s lead us to Jesus
in every Our Father prayed,
His Prayer given to us
to help us see His way.

In the Glory be’s we praise Him
for all His gifts divine,
especially His eternal love
and for our Mother so sublime.

It only takes a little time
from out our days of busyness,
the rewards will be a multitude
of pure grace and happiness.

The world at last will start to change
and Satan will be chained,
with his demons and his cohorts
eternally in Hell to reign

Margaret Rose Larrivee
May 08, 2007

P A I N

Though this day is bright with sunshine
hope and blessings all renewed,
increasing pain keeps me from smiling
how will I endure the whole day through.

I know You’re always with me Lord
for You promised so to do,
when pain mounts up to fever pitch
it blocks all thoughts of You.

I hate to say these dreadful words
I’m only human through and through,
don’t let it get the best of me
oh God keep me near to You.

For oh Lord, I know You suffered
much more than I do now,
please help me Lord to carry
my cross, do show me how.

I long to join my suffering
to Yours and for all time,
bring souls to dwell with You in Paradise
heaven’s stairway soon to climb.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
May 06, 2007

M Y D A D

My dad was always a quiet and gentle man.
Sometimes you barely knew he was around, and the thing
I always noticed the most about him was his perseverance
as he went about his tasks around the house or how he
endured a job at the Hunter’s Veneer Plant for years, a job
that in my eyes, even as a child, found too much for his frail
frame. His fingers were always covered with tape as they
were burned raw by the hot veneer coming out of the driers.
Even worse was the position he held there before that one.
He used to stand above a boiling pit where the logs soaked to
get rid of the bark and in the winter when it was time to come
home for the day, he was drenched from the steam and when he arrived,
his clothes were frozen on his body. He had no ride and walked all the time.
Never did we hear a complaint and it makes my heart weep for this man
who literally worked his fingers to the bone for his family.
That wasn’t the end of his work for in the summer he and mom
tended a huge garden with enough produce to feed an army.
Dad suffered from pleurisy often as he was a smoker and I remember
the mustard plasters mom fixed for him. They really seemed to help.
Dad loved mom’s cooking and for such a small man he could really
put it away. Every Christmas mom baked many of his favourite things
one of which was her cake donuts. She filled an old churn with
dozens of them and dad would always have a snack of two donuts and
a cup of coffee before bed and he ate every last crumb.
Dad could cook too as he was once a cook on the railroad, and I remember
how he’d stew up some chicken wings and use the broth for some
macaroni and rice soup; it was delicious as were the wings.
He knew a lot about the different trees because of his job,
and I recall one day as a little girl making mud pies out on the
back step and dad came by and took me by the hand and we toured
around the property as he named all the different trees for me. It was
a special moment and I’ve never forgotten it.
The neighbours would drop in some evenings and they’d play
Euchre and some got a little out of sorts as they took it all too seriously,
and their knuckles would bang on the table when they played.












Oh the tales that were told around that table, a merrier bunch you’d
never find. We kids took part in the lunch as it seemed we were
never filled. These simple things were happiness personified for us
and we knew God had blessed us with riches beyond compare and
we went to bed at night peaceful in the knowledge that our mom and dad
would always be there and we were secure in their love.
The years passed, we grew up and left home and dad
retired only to find out he had lung cancer, so he didn’t get
to enjoy any time just for he and mom.
You were small in stature dad, but mighty
in your duty as our father.
Thanks dad. (I hope mom’s making donuts in heaven for you).

Margaret Rose Larrivee
May 06, 2007

BERRY PICKING

When the summer’s heat was scorching and the
cicadas were attacking our eardrums their fever pitched
buzzing, and the day was all hot and sticky and you sweat even though
you didn’t do anything, mom would decide to go
berry picking. How she loved this task and did right up
to when her body said ‘no more’. She was the cleanest
picker and had no leaves or stems in her pail. We however,
her little brood, didn’t fare so well.
What we’d do first is hunt up old shirts and old neckties,
the shirts to keep us from being all scratched and bitten
by black flies and mosquitoes and the neckties to tie the
pails around our waists so we’d have both hands free for picking.
We also wore floppy-brimmed straw hats to keep us from sunstroke
and we must have looked a right picture of how not to dress.
We didn’t complain much because we loved what mom did
with the berries when we got home.
It was something comical to watch our parade
in clown-like regalia clinking and clanking up the highway to the
spot where mom knew of this bountiful patch of raspberries.
Their long prickly canes were densely growing and hard to
get the berries without getting all scratched, but that didn’t
deter us. One of us would always get a story going round
about bears and the smaller ones would get a little scared so
we’d tell them to make lots of noise to make them go away.
It was hot and thirsty work and we ate as many as we picked,
with the odd warning from mom. Sometimes we’d come
across a wild apple tree and we’d have a few and they
were surprisingly good, also we found some bushes of
long black berries and they were a real treat. Some were
so big they’d fit on the ends of our fingers. After what seemed
like a long time, mom would call a halt to the picking and we’d
start out for home, but not before going to the farm house of
someone she knew and we all got a long cool drink of
spring water. All in all it was a wonderful outing and we
enjoyed the pies and preserves that resulted from our efforts.
It’s a fond and happy memory for us all,
thanks mom.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
May 06, 2007

CRIES FROM THE WILDERNESS

A melting pot of evil boiling
our planet in disgrace,
Your gift of life now torn asunder
as all Your laws we have replaced.

Satan has us in a kettle
the water’s temperature just right,
he slowly feeds the fire
so that we don’t recognize our plight.

We’ve been duped by his trickery
ah but now the time is late,
if we don’t take the leap real soon
we’ll have to accept our fate.

Jesus’ hand of mercy reaches out
to all His love He gives full measure,
Satan’s gifts the opposite
only lies and filth no treasure.

Now is the time to make your choice
of who’s words will you take heed
for eternity is fast approaching
only God has all you need.

From out the depths of sin and darkness
cry out oh children to the Son,
who’ll forgive your every evil deed
and then forget them every one.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
May 05, 2007

REASONS FROM THE PAST

Our lives at times seem perfect
no snags have come our way,
then slowly all this changes
hurts from the past boil up to stay.

These happenings not dealt with
so many years ago,
sneak back to jeer and taunt us
our weaknesses they show.

The past cannot be buried
unless forgiveness is the lid,
of the coffins filled with brokenness
wrongs done to us or ones we did.

They’ll fester and they’ll nag us
and fill us full of dread,
we have to face them head on
when all else has been said.

Once out in the open
as you right each painful deed,
the future will look brighter
from the past you will be freed.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
May 04, 2007

IN A FOG

The earth’s resources once so pure
the soil, the water and the air,
polluted by man’s thoughtless disregard
of all that God put in his care.

It’s been in the name of progress
that we’ve brought us to the brink,
of multiplying illnesses
from what we breathe and eat and drink.

Industries polluting rivers
and the air we breathe to live
dumping toxic chemicals
a death sentence they do give.

Cities having smog days laced with poisons
that the sick stay in their homes,
to go out could spell disaster
communications made by phone.

Many people like myself
have suffered now for years,
our lungs are sick and tired
allergic to everything it’s clear.

To top it all we’re killing ourselves
and those in proximity,
with tars and nicotine befogged
knowing what in time might be.

Russian roulette being played out daily
by all of society,
smoking nails hammered in our coffins
puff by puff the worst will be.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Apr. 30, 2007

NO TIME

The race is on we scurry
from one point to the next,
pressed for time and playing catch up
our visage clearly vexed.

The goal we set before us
that of having many things,
puts stress on minds and bodies
tempers flair and tongues do sting.

It makes no sense to have these things
while our families break apart,
if we used some of this precious time
to mend a broken heart.

It’s not the earthly things we crave
that bring peace into our souls,
it’s how we spend God-given talents
teaching all their God to know.

When you trust the Lord and follow
never get too far behind,
keep pace with all His teachings
true happiness you’ll find.

Here today and gone tomorrow
are all things of the earth,
spend time on what’s eternal
we’ll experience new birth.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Apr. 29, 2007

VOICELESS

There are people in the world who have no voice
they’re poor, downtrodden, oppressed,
who will take up their cause and seek not applause
when will their lot be addressed.

Their countries are ever in chaos
their leaders so visibly corrupt,
who fill all their many mansions
with riches of which they share not.

One day I believe the tables will turn
and the balance of justice will tip,
and fill all the poors coffers with riches
the others to see poverty, hurts quite a bit.

It takes a lot to get men to understand
that greed is the road to despair,
for it never brings true happiness
that comes when we learn how to share.

May the silence of those having abundance
be broken by the melting of hearts,
let all voices bring greetings and friendship
to the voiceless and make a fresh start.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Apr. 28, 2007

FISHING ON THE MOIRA

It’s time to speak in depth of my fishing days
with Mr. Gabourie, one of the old folk who so patiently
took the time to teach me, a very gabby little girl,
the ins and outs of fishing from his boat.
It was a magical event for me as I loved the sound of
the water lapping at the prow and watching the oars dip and
pull, propelling us along at an easy pace.
On sunny days, you could see to the bottom of the river
and were treated with the vision of sunfish glowing in
the sunshine, or shadows of larger fish and at times I saw turtles,
the snapping variety. We’d come upon patches of water lilies that
had a heady odour and a rare beauty as they drifted to and fro on their
long stems, that only let them wander just so far. There was one spot
in the middle of the river where caution was called for as a huge rock
was just below the surface. Mr. Gabourie would give me the duty of sitting
in the prow and warning him when it was near. I really feel he did it to
make me feel important and show me that I was needed.
He was a man of very few words, but by his actions taught me in time
to be quiet as to not scare the fish away. I was having such a wonderful time
I just kept quiet and soaked in the sun, the breeze and the beauty along
the shores of the Moira River. When we got to the spot of his choosing,
He gave me a bamboo pole and taught me how to bait the hook, a rather
squirmy job, but I soon got the hang of it. We would sit in silence for hours
just waiting in anticipation for that tell tale nibbling that made the bobber
jiggle and the water ripple around it, and you knew a fish was sampling
your bait. You gave it enough time to get properly caught, then you would
whip your line out of the water and there on the hook would be more often than not
a rock fish that was more bone than meat so you let him go. Another fish I let go was
the sun fish, as they were all gold and shiny and too pretty to kill. One day I had
a fight on my hands with a red-finned sucker. I was small, and the fish was
big and it gave me a run for my money, but I got him and was proud as
punch and was given praise by my dear sidekick.
One day I caught an eel and I wouldn’t bring it into the boat because it
looked like a snake, so Mr. Gabourie let me drag it in the water to the shore
where he dealt with it and had it for supper. On days when the sun was too hot,
we would patrol close to the shore where there were willows with their
branches hanging down touching the water. He would grab a few and sit on






them so we could fish while enjoying the cool shade.
Along with the shear pleasure of fishing, there were the
sounds of the children out of school for the summer, swimming and
playing near the water, and all the other sounds that were like
back ground music to our ears.
This dear old gentleman and his wife were like grandparents and I loved them
dearly. Gabby, I think short for Gabrielle, used to tell me very bluntly
what she thought my mouth looked like as I chewed my double bubble gum.
I won’t repeat it here. She was sweet and yet feisty and was the occasion for many
a good laugh with her dry humour.
My life wouldn’t have been the same without these two beautiful people
and no matter what happens as I live out my days, I will never forget
the sweetness of their love for me and mine for them.
I pray heaven’s rivers are filled with all the fish he can handle, and that
Gabby is delighting some child in her mansion with the Lord.
See you soon!

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Apr. 28, 2007

WHAT HAS TO BE

These days life is too serious
over all there hangs dark clouds,
you’d think all life soon would be wearing
death’s dark and musty shroud.

It’s true the news fills us with saddness
as in countries far away,
our loved ones fight for freedom
and with their lives they pay.

Our nations future leaders
doctors, lawyers, men of God,
give their lives for the homeland
as in foreign lands they trod.

Some speak of the end to come
and shiver in there shoes,
their fear keeps them from growing
they’re frozen in their pews.

It’s not the time for giving up
there’s no reason for our fear,
for Jesus tells us in the Bible
He makes it very clear.

“Nation will rise against nation
on our heads calamities will fall,
don’t panic it’s not yet the end
His mercy still reigns over all”.

When we’re brought before those in power
fear not for what you will say,
for the Spirit will speak from your being
they’ll be astounded at your wisdom that day.

The reward for your faithfulness, glory
your stand for the Lord one of love,
you’ll enjoy His presence so Holy
as you enter His heart up above.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Apr. 27, 2007

THEY’RE BACK...

My friends the frogs are back again
day and night ‘reedeep’ their songs,
of love to one another
this sound to Spring belongs.

From the time when I was little
they have been friends of mine,
they’ve sung me to the land of nod
for about the millionth time.

I adored their bulging eyes
their skin so moist and cold,
they have not the means to hurt you
if you squeezed too hard they’d scold.

Some of the boys abused them
it made me often cry,
they were so very helpless
why this cruelty, why?

Long ago God gave them to us
it’s a very special gift,
for when they sing their serenades
it gives our hearts a lift.

Their usefulness in keeping down
the scores of insects everywhere,
the more they eat, the less we’re bitten
and You’ve put them in our care.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Apr. 24, 2007

RIVER OF LIFE

As life’s waters flow around me
at times I’m all adrift,
without an oar or paddle
of all aid I am bereft.

Like a weathered leaf I’m tossed
sinking, rising in the foam,
no one knowing of my plight
I suffer it alone.

Where will this river take me
when will this journey cease,
I’m caught in spinning eddies
with no sign of relief.

If you were perchance to meet me
there is no way you could tell,
of what lies below the surface
of this faulty human shell.

Sometimes the hurts are just too deep
I can’t speak the words aloud,
so I wear my mask and cover up
my countenance from the crowd.

Some day with Your help Oh Lord
I’ll speak my piece to those concerned,
and they will finally know my woundedness
I pray lessons will be learned.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Apr. 24, 2007

WHERE HAS ALL THE DATA GONE?

I’m noticing as the days and months unfold
my memory for the things of the previous day
have hidden themselves from my search engine and
I can’t retrieve ordinary events that used to
be for me a snap.
Sometimes a word or happening or a prayer
play hide and seek and frustration sets in. It’s
there on the end of my tongue, but I can’t spit it out.
It’s like trying to catch the brass ring on the Merry-Go-Round
without having any fingers. Fear starts to make its presence felt,
and I don’t like fear as it turns us into wimps and ties our hands
and keeps us from making necessary changes, or getting help.
I know that age has something to do with it, and
serious illness which calls for strong medications worsens
the situation.
On the brighter side, my long term memory is blossoming
and it’s wonderful to remember what my childhood was like.
So I guess you could say, one door shuts, another opens,
or God giveth and God taketh away. Praise be to God.
I have had a major fear since we visited Lourdes, France
where on coming out of the Cathedral with my family;
one minute they were with me and the next they were nowhere
to be found. It was as if they vanished before my eyes. I became
frozen in fear, and I didn’t speak French. After what seemed like
hours, I think my angel brought to my mind about the parking lot,
and I knew where that was, so I went there and waited for
them to show up, which they did, later. I was so relieved that I
didn’t mind the scolding I got, which I’m sure came from
his own fear that something had happened to me. I just kept my
lips sealed and thanked God for a happy ending.
To this day I periodically have this nightmare about being
lost and I awaken terrified.
I believe that my memory loss, which is like being lost in
my head is the same as being physically lost, like I was in France.
Help me Lord to accept the things I cannot change.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Apr. 22, 2007

QUE SERA SERA

Some people feel they have control over what happens
in their lives and have no need for God. They have pride as
their companion and continue to feed their egos and
the most important word in the dictionary is “I”.
They don’t see that God is always with them and in
fact is in the driver’s seat, but they won’t acknowledge it.
“I can do it myself, I don’t need any help” they say,
not realizing that without Him, they could do nothing.
The only way they can be made to know Him is when
they fail at something and have to face up to their failures, thus
learning that maybe they don’t have all the answers, and just maybe
there’s a Supreme Being after all. Those of us who have blind faith,
are unable to comprehend their thinking because we see the Creator
in all of His Creation.
When you stand outside on the deck late at night and gaze up
into the heavens and contemplate the majesty of the universe,
instinctively you know He exists. All of this was not an accident, but
a gift to all mankind by a God who loves us with a never ending love.
If He were to treat us as we deserve, no man could stand, but He lavishes
us with graces, gifts and blessings and showers us with His Mercy.
From day one, He’s had a plan for each one of us, and we’ve had
two choices from the beginning to choose good or evil. We had better learn all
we can about His promises regarding our choice. One leads to eternal suffering,
and the other to eternal glory.
Make your choice wisely!
Que sera sera!

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Apr. 22, 2007

MY HOME TOWN

Tweed was a peaceful, lovely and safe place
to grow up. The Moira River ran through it and under
the towns two bridges, the old and the new, making for a
picturesque and serene postcard-like image indelibly inked
onto our hearts. In those years you knew everyone on
your street and on every other street also. When you went
shopping or just for a walk, you greeted them all and an
outing of shopping took rather a long time, but things
went at a slower pace back then. Times were hard, but
pretty well everyone was in the same boat. They all put in
gardens to fill in where the cash wouldn’t cover.
A town is not a town on its own, but it’s the people
who make up the town, and these people were
top notch. Hard working, church going, helping in a
time of difficulty, good honest people! The streets were
tree-lined and rang out with the joy of children at play, and
we didn’t have to worry much about vandalism or thieves.
As a matter of fact, it wasn’t really necessary to lock our
doors at night. It never crossed your mind to check first
before answering the door, people just walked in, and they
were sincerely welcomed.
One of the landmarks of our town was Donny our milkman
with his horse and wagon. They were a well oiled team.
As he carried the bottles they would clink together, and you knew
fresh milk was on the way; bottles of white and chocolate to replace
the empties already on the porch with the needs of the household
written on a piece of paper protruding from the neck of the bottle.
The bottles had little stiff paper caps, and if you forgot to
bring them in, in the winter, the milk would freeze and protrude
outward like a milk popsicle.
Then there was the clip clop of the horse’s hooves on the pavement
as he slowly continued on, never stopping and his even gait
brought him right where he was supposed to be, at the neighbour’s
house where he and Donny would meet up again.
Every day of our lives back then was graced with Donny’s
cheerful greetings and joyful service to his community, not to forget
his horse who gave all of us town children a chance to touch and
talk to his faithful steed.
When this service came to an end, everyone was saddened, that
in the name of progress we had lost something that machines
could not replace, that of Donny’s smiling countenance
and his cherished horse and wagon. Life goes on!
The park was at the far end of town on Stoco Lake and in our teens,
we wore out our shoes walking there in the summer to swim
and people watch and wile away the warm sunny days with
our peers. The Pavillion was built partly on the water and when
I was older I went to dances there.
The sides opened up to a glorious view of the lake, sometimes
with the moon mirrored on it’s surface, a truly romantic setting.
People came from all the surrounding communities to dance the night away
and enjoy the balmy breeze off the water.
Closer to home, we swam just a stone’s throw away from
our home behind Joey’s house where mom was the
chaperone for everyone and would make us so happy,
the times she joined us in the cool water and relaxed for a spell.
All the schooling I ever got was in Tweed, commencing with
St. Carthagh’s Elementary School and progressing to
Tweed High School where I finished with a business-secretary
course, because I had become to sickly to go on. My first job
was at the Stedman’s Store and it taught me a lot.
I started out in the basement opening up incoming items for
purchase and after that I went to work at each of the
different departments until I became the head honcho of
the Candy Counter. I just loved it there and it was a joy to wait
on the many children who came in to see how much penny candy
they could get for their money. When the new shipments of candy
came in, it was my duty to open them and make a place
on the counter for them. I remember opening waxed boxes
of toasted coconut marshmallows and the smell almost made
you fall over. The variety considering the size of the store,
was astounding and the manager said that if we wanted we could
sample some of the items once in awhile except for the Cashews and
the Peppermint Patties and the Chocolates. They cost the most.
Before I left Stedman’s, I had become a cashier and I
can truthfully say I enjoyed every task I was given,
while I was in their employ. Time brings about change and we move on,
and I did.
My brother Ray was a chartered accountant and did the books
for the store just across the street from Stedman’s. It was an
Appliance Store with a side business of selling licenses for
motor vehicles and the owner Cartha Cassidy was also a
funeral director. Ray put a plug in for me and I got the job of
Licensing Clerk which I totally loved, and I sold the odd
appliance on the side. I kind of was available to whatever chore
came up. I met all types of people,
even loggers who would bring the licenses for their
fleets of trucks for renewal, costing thousands of dollars. Sometimes I
was taken out of the theatre by one of the car dealers
who had made a sale and needed a change of ownership.
I worked out of an old bank teller’s cage
and there were times I didn’t come out when
certain people came in who seemed to have taken a liking to me,
especially one older gentleman who insisted on giving me sweets.
I wasn’t smiling then, but I can now. I used to walk alone to
the bank with the night deposit which at times held thousands
of dollars from License sales and everyone knew me and knew
what I was carrying, but there was never an incident or worry.
After working there for four years I acquired a job at Rayco
Plumbing and Heating in Belleville,
thus ending my stay in Tweed and stepping out on my own at last,
opening another page in my story
to be continued at a later date...

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Apr. 21, 2007

THE OLD FOLKS

If I wasn’t in the yard, or at the pond
or playing with the neighbour’s kids,
there was only one other place I would be, and that was
at one of homes of the old folks who lived on our street.
I was drawn to them from the beginning and knew instinctively
that they were very special people.
Their faces were lined with wisdom and knowledge,
and they knew just as much about me.
It seemed to me they enjoyed my visits and I certainly
enjoyed mine. We’d talk about their flowers with so many
vibrant hues, and fishing on the river with Mr. Gabourie.
He taught me all about fishing and how to row his boat.
This man and his wife were the parents of Sister Joan of Arc
who directed the choir when I was a member. They had
the best crab apple tree in their back yard and they let
me have as many as I wanted. I have never in the years
since, tasted the likes again. On the subject of fishing,
well that’s another story for another time.
These people were the salt of the earth and regularly
gave me cookies and gingerale for a treat.
At the end of our street was a stone house,
and the Genereaux lived there. It seemed whenever I went
to visit, I had a piece of bread and butter in my hand,
and just to tease me they said my hand was bandaged.
One day I went over and they were fixing some Boudin
for their meal. It smelled so good and I told them so,
so they insisted on giving me a piece to try.
I don’t know how something that smelled so good
could taste so bad–at least it did to me.
They had a good laugh over it.
Right next door lived my Uncle Levi and my Aunt Tildy
and I went to see them frequently because their house
was full of calendars of every kind, and my Aunt who
was very old wore a number of sweaters and many stockings
to keep warm, then she’d have the oven door open, and sit with
her feet on the oven door.
Her circulation must have been some bad.
Her hand was forever in her pocket because
her Rosary was there and she wore her hair drawn back into a
very tight bun. Uncle Levi used to shave with the straight
razor and I always timed my visits to watch him, he didn’t
seem to mind. They had an ice shed out beside the house and there
were many blocks of ice under a huge pile of sawdust.
We had an iceman who came frequently with his horse and wagon,
and we kids chased him all the way down the street, begging pieces of
ice to make us cool on hot summer days. Lots of times, he obliged.
Today all these lovely people are resting in the Cemetery which
catches the suns rays throughout the day and there are other
spots that rest in the cool shade of the old trees that like sentinels are at
attention in respect for those interred and line the fence
and change the colours of their uniforms with the seasons.
When we go to visit my mom and dads grave, we make the rounds
of all my dear friends from my youth, and I say a little prayer
for them all, and I smile as memories come rushing back,
and I thank God for His gift of
The old folks.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Apr. 20, 2007

SATURDAY NIGHT’S ROUTINE

It was a night of preparation, a cleansing some would say
to get us all in readiness for the Sabbath Day.
Mom put the wash tub filled with warm water near the wood stove
on the floor and nearby soap and towels to dry us off.
We were not very old, but I knew already the embarrassment that
could make me blush like a peach in the sunshine, that of
being the untimely visit of the neighbour’s boy who just walked in
unannounced, and stood there staring. I can still feel the
red-hot burning of my skin and I felt I’d never be able to look
him in the eye again. Until we got a modern bathroom, we
had to endure this public bathing. It was such a blessing
when the little house with the moon on the door in our back yard was
taken down for good and the catalogues thrown out.
I remember how our knees and faces shone when our ablutions
were done. How mom used to scrub us and keep us all so neat and clean,
and we’d go to bed that night with white rags in our hair which gave
the effect of ringlets the next day. We were poor, but that
doesn’t have to mean dirty, as we were spotless. Then of course
there was the pleasure of sliding into our beds that smelled
of the outdoors as Saturday night was the time to change
the sheets. Did I say we were poor? I take that back. In retrospect I see that
we were rich in all that mattered, with parents who worked
their fingers to the bone, literally, and saw to it that we knew Jesus.
We met Him everyday in our Rosary Time, and in our child-like
prayers, and through the loving care of the Sisters who
taught us way back when. Thank God for the blessed
childhood we had.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Apr. 20, 2007

THE DAY I SET THE HOUSE ON FIRE

I was only just a little thing, having not yet started school.
My eyes and ears didn’t miss a thing, and I do believe
I was usually a very good girl (I think), and
was full of curiosity, watching everything that was
going on around me, taking it all in so to speak.
When my mother baked, there I was right in the
middle of the floury mess begging for a piece of raw dough.
Mother got top marks for patience I can tell you.
Oh the odours that drifted out of that old wood burning,
antiquated stove.
We would start to salivate just from the smell, and when
the first pan of cookies came out we had to have a sample right away.
It is hard to choose from all the things my mother cooked so well,
which was our favourite. At first thought, I’d choose her bread
that was as light as air, and the flavour indescribable.
When she buttered the top of the loaf, the crust would snap
and crackle, inviting you to sample its heavenly texture.
Then there was her turkey dinners, and light and fluffy pancakes,
etc., etc., etc.,
Ah but I’m getting off the topic (do I hear fire engines)?
Just kidding!
We all have habits that stick with us, and my father had one
particular one that got me into trouble.
He was a smoker, and he would take a sliver of wood
from the wood box, put it through the grate and touch the hot coals
to light his cigarette or pipe, never thinking someone might be
looking on (guess who)? Well this was the day for lessons,
and I was about to learn one, pronto.
The flame fascinated me until on putting my sliver into the stove
like my dad, it ignited quickly and flared up sending me into
a panic. What do I do, what do I do? Get rid of it, get rid of it.
So I did, I threw it into the wood box, only to see everything
get worse because there were papers and chips in there to help
start a fire in the morning.
It started to really burn and I stood there frozen in time.
My mother was outside hanging laundry, so I ran to her
yelling at the top of my lungs, Fire, Fire!
Did she move, I didn’t know she had it in her.
What saved the day and my bottom was the fact that
the laundry water was still there in the kitchen so she doused the
fire with that. She was so relieved that I had run and told her,
that she never punished me at all. The result of all this was that
I couldn’t light a match for years, and I have a deep respect for fire.
Curiosity nearly killed this cat.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Apr. 19, 2007

YESTERDAY’S WASH DAYS

The way we do this frequent task
has changed greatly over the years.
It has gone from hot and steamy labour, to
what we now find is a breeze
but still manage to complain about.
Back then, wash day started very early
with huge containers of water being heated on
the top of our old black kitchen stove with
the reservoir on the side. The water in
there, being used for washing dishes.
Mom used a scrub board and a large bar of
Sunlight Soap, and every time
she washed the clothing for nine of us,
the ninth being my grandmother, who lived in
another part of the house and my mom
looked after her.
I don’t know how you found the strength
and you had the whitest wash on our street.
I learned from watching you that God is always with us
because I feel He was the one who made it possible
to complete your tasks, right along with Our
Blessed Mother.
Starting with the whites, you scrubbed and sloshed
your way through a virtual mountain of laundry, then
there was the washing, wringing, rinsing, wringing,
carrying the heavy wet clothes out to the line,
hang it all up, it dries, then take it all down,
sprinkle and iron with those old flat irons
you had to heat on the wood stove.
That of course was just the laundry, there were
many other jobs to be done. I can only imagine
the times you must have wept for need of a rest.
Out behind the house there was an old relic
of a wooden washing machine.
I believe it was my grandmothers.
It had a lever on the lid, and when you worked
the lever a piece in it’s center would gyrate,
thus cleaning the clothes, at least it did once.
At that point in time, it was long past its prime,
though I imagine a museum would have loved to get
their hands on it.
To this day, I enjoy watching the clothing being
blown about and snapping in the breeze. I acquired
this love from my mother as she used to mention it every time..
Wash day generated other jobs, like replacing missing buttons,
split seams and darning socks.
When I think of the love that filled your heart
to overflowing day in and day out, I knew that on this
earth, there was nothing that could defeat it.
I don’t think mom ever read the Bible, but
she surely lived it. Thanks mom for keeping
us clean and presentable all those years ago.

Your loving daughter,
Margaret Rose Larrivee
Apr. 19, 2007

THE PATH TO ONENESS

The Good Lord asks that we be one
like the Holy Trinity,
but our humanness a stumbling block
makes it so hard to holy be.

In this world grown hard and cold
the changes have to come,
from all who follow Jesus
then ripple out to everyone.

The first thing that is needed
is with God to reconcile,
and die to self, give up all pride
in love go the extra mile.

To greet ALL of His dear children
with His Love set in our hearts,
to accept them as He showed us
all His love to them impart.

Teach all by our example
point no finger, lest you fall,
then any good that had been done
would be lost to one and all.

Jesus visited with sinners
ate at their table I recall,
He went where He was needed
showed no favorites at all.

Why can’t we be just like Him
for I know it’s His desire,
Oh Lord rekindle in us
Your cleansing Holy Fire.

We cannot do it by ourselves
we need Your Spirits gifts and fruits,
like Your Disciples had when they went forth
our seeds planted to take root.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Apr. 18, 2007

WHEN DID IT ALL BEGIN?

Like Rip Van Winkle we’ve awakened
from a deep and drug-like sleep,
to find a world of disrespect, no morals
where so many mothers weep.

Jesus warned us during His Passion
weep not for Him but for our families,
It’s come to pass, it’s here today
He has brought us to our knees.

We live with two major cultures
where death and hatred reign,
babies butchered in the womb
and with hatred making gains.

We see it in the daily news
senseless killings, broken hearts,
no remorse from the evil doers
just icy coldness they impart.

It began when we noticed changes
that didn’t feel just right,
but we wore rose-coloured glasses
never putting up a fight.

Then when voting time came round
we didn’t take the time,
to study what they had to say
and read between the lines.

Long gone the days when candidates
worked for the common good,
now it’s everybody for himself
no one living as they should.

I seems we’ve reached an all-time low
our monies spent by those in power,
as it’s doled out to abortionists
murdering babies by the hour.

Oh God do what You have to do
this evil can’t go on, we pray,
stop the killing and the hatred
or our soul’s death will be our pay.

We’ve been blinded by the evil one
especially those who say, there’s no such thing,
to some degree we’ve all been hypnotized
therefore feeling not his sting.

Turning to our Lord and Saviour
will be the only way,
to bring back to man his decency
with prayer, then love will come to stay.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Apr. 17, 2007

MY NEIGHBOUR

We are to treat our neighbour
those up close and those far off
with welcome words of friendship
make no judgments, never scoff.

Use our talents given
by the One Almighty God,
to assist them with what e’er their need
on their feelings never trod.

In return we can expect the same
when times get hard or sad,
their arms can bring you comfort
a trouble shared seems not so bad.

Oh God You knew when long ago
You made these rules for us,
that alone we couldn’t make it
in You, You asked us put our trust.

For we are all Your family
You know our needs before we ask,
You said You’d always be with us
be our help in every task.

You work through friend and neighbour
It’s the way The Father planned,
we need You and each other
to live happy in this land.

Your love hasn’t any boundaries
it’s deep, ever fresh and knowing,
that our each and every fiber
in Your love is every growing.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Apr. 17, 2007

THE STATE OF THE ELDERLY

I remember when my parents
took grandma into their care,
without a second thought my mom
said stay with us our lives we’ll share.

It worked out so beautifully
grandma never did complain,
when we kids got too rambunctious
mom tried to keep us tame.

Grandma knew from her experience
just how kids were supposed to be,
so she understood when we were noisy
I think it kept her young you see.

She was gentle, meek and quiet
I remember not her voice,
all I know is that she spoke in French
the language of her choice.

When she began to slip away
mom took extra special care,
her every wish was granted
time for grandma always there.

Mom spoiled her with her many talents
one of which was baking homemade bread,
she’d eat no other but my mother’s
with this manna only she’d be daily fed.

Mom’s meals were always done with love
though not of the richest fare,
but she made it taste like Cordon Blue
for this she had a special flare.

Today they have these nursing homes
where when you come of age,
you’re given a room and little space
to pass your final days.

It seems the family has no time
as in the by gone days,
they’re busy earning money
for their luxuries to pay.

Now our elderly pay the price
loneliness their daily wage,
of living in today’s society
it’s no longer ‘the golden age’.

When we neglect these precious gems
God’s children one and all,
we neglect the Lord in all His Glory
on our heads justice will fall.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Apr. 16, 2007

TIME OF MERCY

In this Your time of mercy
Your gift to all mankind,
we kneel before Your image
appealing to Your heart sublime.

Help us all to realize
the error of our ways,
before the Sun stops shining
on our wasted, sinful days.

We think we’re doing really well
owning many earthly things,
but then we suffer from depression
for no happiness they bring.

The more we have the more we want
we see not what our goal should be,
our emptiness is crying out
fill us oh God with Thee.

Pour out upon us Jesus
blood and water from Your side,
wash away our mediocrity
inundate us with the tide...

Of Your Mercy that flows freely
from Your Cross on Calvary,
for all our sins and grievances
You died and set us free.

Out of love You did it Lord
even for the likes of me,
so help me Lord to live the life
that You have planned for me.

Oh Lord, it’s my desire
to start anew with Thee,
reign down Your mercy on us
for all eternity.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Apr. 15, 2007

THE AWAKENING

A new day is beginning
with the rising of the Son,
the New Springtime newly budding
there is glory to be won.

In His rising hope eternal
rose from out the tomb,
just as The Light delivered
came forth from Mary’s womb.

The horizon is more clearly seen
our mission now so surely known,
the call of Jesus now so certain
felt deeply in our bones.

The message one of urgency
behold that day is nigh,
we are disciples of the new day
praise to God the Son on high.

Equip us Lord with all that’s needed
make our hearts the storage place,
of Your Word and all your blessings
and full measures of Your Grace.

It’s our desire Lord to follow You
our footsteps close behind
giving to all Your messages of love
so eternal happiness they’ll find.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Apr. 12, 2007

ATTITUDE

Life becomes what we put into it
how much we live His way,
if we’re positive or negative
to live out our every day.

With our eyes trained on the negative
it will surely come our way,
when we sow bitter seed to others
the fruits of bitterness will be our pay.

Wasting God’s gift of precious time
on all that’s negative,
He came to show us by example
just how we are to live.

When we dwell upon the positive
like a stone skipped on the water,
it will ripple out to others
bring a harvest to His altar.

For what we sow, so shall we reap
He taught us this so long ago,
so let us sow the positive
and watch all His children grow.

Then all will reap the benefits
and finally learn to share,
all that we have with others
show love to people everywhere.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Apr. 10, 2007

WEAK MOMENTS

My discomfort Lord has daily grown
the pain keeps mounting higher,
there’s no position that gives relief
from these fingers of burning fire.

I’m drawn between two choices
one, to suffer Lord with Thee,
for all the wrongs now in the world
to share Your Cross on Calvary.

The second choice comes from the flesh
oh Lord of all pain to be free,
I’m so tired of the burden
can You understand my plea?

I feel so guilty to back away
from the promise I once gave,
to offer all my suffering
for the sins mankind has made.

Oh God I offer You my weaknesses
all that’s dark and selfish, wrong,
I leave it all within Your hands
it’s the place where they belong.

Help me Lord to do Your will
to live for just the now,
not to worry about what’s to come
only You can show me how.

Please forgive my times of feebleness
when I try to change Your will,
I’m the least of all Your children
all my emptiness please fill.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Apr. 09, 2007

SCHOOL DAYS

At the age of six, I started the first grade
at St. Carthagh’s Elementary School in Tweed.
I was scared and glad at the same time, but was put
at ease right away by the friendly nuns who taught there.
I remember only a few of them like Sister Chrysostom, Sister
Mary Everista, Sister Mary Carthagh and also Sister Joan of Arc,
who was the organist and choir director of the parish. If there is one
thing I know for certain, it is that they all made a huge impact
on my life, by the way they taught us our ABC’s and enriched our
faith. God bless the sisters of St. Carthagh’s Parish and school.
One of the things that made a lasting mark on my heart was
that when May came around, they would make small altars
honouring Mary in our classroom. There was
something of the miraculous in these shrines, and
we children would go on excursions in the woods
to collect wild flowers to offer to Mary our Mother.
There would be votive candles all around and
each day of May, before class would commence
we would say our prayers and sing hymns to Mary.
I will never forget this, it was so beautiful.
Another not so fragrant memory was that of kneeling in the aisle
beside our desks in the heat of summer praying, while the
odourous reeking running shoes of the person in front was
suffocating the very breath out of us. Sweet memories for sure!
There was a huge school yard where we would have a fun day
just before school would close for the summer. There were all kinds
of games and sports, races of every kind, organized baseball teams where
because of my lack of strength at bat, I was usually the last one chosen.
I lived through it without being marked for life. When winter would
come whistling in, this whole scene became one of a fairyland.
There was a hill behind the school where we could sleigh ride down
it’s side or do the most daring thing of bobsledding at breakneck speed
down the big slope used by the older children. One of the sisters
was a real good sport, and she’d beg a ride on the bobsled. What a
glorious sight with her habit and veil billowing out behind her as
they rocketed down the slope. She was special because she would
show us her childlike side and we felt at ease with her.
This same hill
was to be the occasion of an accident that broke my nose and made me
look like a black eyed Susan for awhile. Someone had made a hump out of
snow at the bottom of a small slope and my cousin Clara, with me behind
her on a piece of cardboard took a turn sliding. Of course when we hit the
bump at the bottom, my face went smashing into Clara’s head , and there
was blood everywhere. On visiting the doctors, he informed me that it had
been a close call, and my nose was broken and is still a bit noticeable even
today. Clara faired better than me! My first impressions of this school
were that it was so clean, with the terrazzo floors shining like glass,
and it seemed to me to be so big. There were two beautiful, larger than
life statues out in the hall which truly made me feel that they
were real. I had the occasion to visit the school some years ago and
was shocked at how much everything had shrunk down to
miniatures. It gave me a feeling like I had lost something, guess it was my
youth. I remember helping make copies on a hectograph and the smell of
the ink is still drifting around in my head, it was a strange odour.
I was enthralled by the nun’s habits and their ways, as they seemed always
so serene. At one time I had ambitions of becoming one of them, but
it wasn’t meant to be. Through the years things changed and one by one
the nuns were leaving and their places taken up by non-religious. An era had passed!
It was a great loss for our parish, and they were missed by everyone, and
to this day I still remember them in my prayers. I like to imagine their
spirits still overseeing the children’s lessons, it’s a nice thought, and
sister Joan of Arc playing the organ and belting out hymns, urging us
on to do the same. It all made for happy memories, it was a special time.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Apr. 07, 2007

SORROW’S PATH

A day of pain and suffering Lord, stretches out before You, and
Judas and the Roman Soldiers are now at Gethsemani’s gate.
The time of suffering as the apostles slept has weakened You, but
in resignation You stand and await the betrayer’s kiss like the gentle Lamb
that You are, knowing that it has to be, if God’s children are going to
gain heaven. Under the great weight of what was to come Lord, how did
You keep to the Will of Your Father? As ordinary humans, the chances of
any of us fulfilling a similar mission would be nil. It is all so horrific that
our feeble minds can’t even come close to understanding or imagining
to what length You suffered for us. You took upon Your Sacred body, the
stench and putridness of our sins from the beginning to the end of all
existence.
Possessed now by Satan, Judas does his evil deed, and upon seeing the treatment
that the soldiers were raining down upon Jesus, he ran off for he knew he had
delivered Jesus up to death and not the mission he personally had
fabricated in his mind, of an earthly rule for Jesus. He had misinterpreted
Jesus’ teachings of His Kingdom. In despair he hangs himself erasing any
chance of forgiveness. Lord in these years that have gone by since that fateful
day, we watch through modern day technology, films that depict the story of
Your great Sacrifice, and books that word the event so well that we cringe and
cry out at the despicable way You were treated for us. We who believe cannot
understand why so many don’t believe or don’t care. What will it take to make
them see and hear Your Truths. Help us Lord, show us the way to be healers of
eyes and ears so we can, also by our example, show these wayward souls that the
path of suffering leads to the Kingdom of God, where we will know Resurrection’s
Glory from everlasting to everlasting. Lord Jesus, come and reign in our hearts.
Amen.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Apr. 06, 2007

I HAVE SEEN HIM

These were Mary Magdalene’s words as she met with the apostles
after having gone to the tomb and found it empty and having Jesus
appear before her telling her to bring the good news to them. She was
excited and beside herself with joy, appearing to be overwrought and
perhaps gone a little mad in her grief. The apostles did not at first believe
her thus making her even more upset. Peter ran to the tomb and came back
confirming her story and they rejoiced together, finally seeing then what Jesus
had told them, but they had been unable to grasp.
I realize now that after many years I have also finally got the message. I too, have
seen Him. Some may say “who does she think she is, making a statement like that?”
It is true none the less! The lesson coming from Mother Theresa of Calcutta who
saw each person she ministered to as Jesus Christ. The more I thought about it
the more I found it to be true for me and for everyone. The sad and lonely person
you passed on the street and you smiled and said hello, you saw Jesus in him.
When a friend comes to you all broken because of events that have happened in her
family, and you listen with compassion and hold her and cry with her and comfort her
with words of love, it is to Jesus we give succour. When your child has broken some
item that you particularly cherish and stands before you eye’s full of tears and waits
for his punishment all trembling, to pick him up and hold him and tell him it’s OK,
and to kiss him and assure him that he needn’t worry, it is because you see Christ
in him and I will with the most certainty say that the receivers of this kind of love
see Jesus also in the giver of these tender mercies. This is what it’s is all about,
being more like Jesus. He has asked us to be Holy as He is holy and the more we
practice what He has asked us to do, as we gaze into a mirror, the fog will lift and
there before us will be the image of Jesus where we once were. Oh what a day
it will be. Help us Lord to do always your will.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Apr. 05, 2007

BREAKING BREAD TOGETHER

I remember all the joyful times
when our relatives came to share,
a place at our dinner table
there were cousins everywhere.

There were many different sittings
and many a dish to wash,
the stories were hilarious
and the food deserved applause.

The following weekend it would be
someone else’s time to host,
and we all broke bread together
to eat turkey, ham or roast.

It was not a competition
except between the older boys,
who tried to be the one who ate
the most he could enjoy.

It wasn’t just the food you see
it was the sharing of our lives,
a time to laugh and sometimes cry
see new babies who’ve arrived.

We fed not just our stomachs
but our hearts and souls as well,
with the mingling of life’s stories
when in all hearts He comes to dwell.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Apr. 04, 2007

EASTER MORN

Oh glorious, Holy Easter morn
the Son rising brighter than ever before,
a new way, a new day, Your gift from the Cross
our places in Heaven no longer lost.

Hope sprang eternal from out Your tomb
she’s ever abiding from our time in the womb,
despair has been sent running, no more to impair
awaiting Your promises, we bask in Your Care.

All of Creation is glowing like never before
with a heavenly aura, a glimpse of what lays in store,
for those who would follow the Master’s Way
praise, glory and honour to You ever to pay.

Let us shout Halleluia, lift our voices in praise
our arms to the Heavens forever to raise,
hearts and souls joyfully singing Your praises on high
till the time when You call, and to heaven draw nigh.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Apr. 04, 2007

IT DOESN’T PAY, UNTIL THAT DAY

In this dog eat dog world
you have to be,
as tough as nails
for all to see.

Some rise to the top
at others expense,
stepping on their peers
leaving them broken and bent.

When you’re born with a heart
so soft and so kind,
it’s a struggle to make it
that’s what you will find.

You try to work harder
no time do you waste,
with the boss in or out
you keep the same pace.

You do an honest days work
an example for all,
when it’s time for promotion
you don’t get the call.

But him who was lazy
when the boss was away,
he gets the job
and double the pay.

Now where is the justice
for the one who deserved,
who did what was right
and was thrown a curve.










In this world out of balance
it just doesn’t pay,
to be nice and hard working
you won’t get your day.

But from His view up in Heaven
the tables are turned,
He watches your goodness
it’s the other He’ll spurn.

Your heart full of love
honesty and fair play,
will be your entry ticket
to Heaven one day.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
April 01, 2007

PSALM OF AN OPEN HEART

You gave to me an open heart
for all who come to call,
to welcome and enfold them
to love them one and all.

I’ve done my best throughout the years
to follow where You lead,
it hasn’t been an easy road
it’s been hard to plant the seed.

For the ground’s become more barren
the good slowly filtered out,
the sower of His choking weeds
has strewn them all about.

The good soil has become so sparse
it’s in pockets here and there,
it will never be extinguished
for it’s in the Master’s care.

When we become Your labourers
isolated by our choice,
some think we’re high and mighty
and discontentment they do voice.

I know I can’t please everyone
it was the same for You,
my heart will, be ever open
in Your service my life through.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Mar. 31, 2007

JOURNEY TO GLORY

Jesus, this last journey of your short life will be the hardest.
What came before will not compare with what You are about to experience
upon Your Holy Person. Why couldn’t we have been true to You and followed
Your teachings, and all that is to come could have been only a bad dream.
From the time of our first parents, Adam and Eve, we have not
understood or taken to heart Your Saving Graces, and You will not force us
as You have given us all free will. So amazing is Your all encompassing love
and so powerful Your every Word. You spoke all Creation into being, and there
is no one like You. Our every sin, even those of omission are about to tear Your
Holy Flesh from Your body with the horrific scourging that You must endure for
our sake. The mocking, the spitting and bits of Your beard being torn from Your Sacred
face, forgive us Jesus for we know not what we do. The Crown of Thorns bearing
down upon Your Precious Head, piercing even to the skull and causing rivers of
Your life-giving blood to flow even into Your eyes so between the sweat and the blood,
You were nearly blinded, which caused You to stumble on Your Way. Oh Jesus,
the weight of that Cross upon Your already wounded body, and the horrible fatigue
after Your night of beatings and the jeering of the soldiers who delighted in
tormenting You not letting You get any rest. Three times You fell and could
barely carry on, but they finally made Simon of Cyrene assist You, or You might
have died there on the road, instead of on the Cross, and they didn’t want that.
Then Mary Your Mother was there in front of You and with Your lips so swollen and
cracked from Your great thirst, You could but gaze into each others eyes which spoke
of an Ocean of Love flowing back and forth between You. At that moment You both
were joined as one in the Love of the Father and there was no need for words. Your
two souls gazed one unto the other sharing all, the pain, the rejection, the abandonment.
Jesus forgive us for we know not what we do. Lord, You’ve made it to Calvary and You
fall on the ground along side of the altar, Your Cross, and they fasten You to it with the crudest of
spikes and the sound, oh my Jesus, when You were pierced through Your hands and
Your feet as You cried out in agony and Your Blessed Mother must have died inside being
so near to the gruesome scene. When the Cross was raised and dropped into it’s bed,
the sound it made still echos through time and repeats and repeats every time we
contemplate Your Suffering and Death. Not one bitter word did You utter as
You saw some of the ones You had healed not long before who are now
mocking You and taunting You,,” if You are God, come down, save Yourself.”
As it nears Your last breath, in Your great Love You ask Your heavenly Father
to forgive us and my heart shatters at this extraordinary act of selflessness.
Please forgive me Jesus, what can I do to make it up to You? As the skies get blacker
and blacker You breathe Your last and it is finished.
What can I say my Jesus? I will spend the rest of my days following You
and I will serve Your people and will be Your best friend. Help me Lord, with You beside me everything
is possible. I give You my ALL.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Mar. 30, 2007

LITTLE CHILDREN

How Jesus loves the little children
He used to put them on His knee,
and tell them glorious stories
oh how happy they would be.

Some tried to keep them from Him
they thought they’d be a bother,
but Jesus said “No let them come”
they’re the children of My Father.

Whenever you are sad or lonely
remember He said “Come”,
there will be joy upon your meeting
true happiness to be won.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Mar. 30, 2007

WHO I AM

In the eyes of the world I am a woman,
a house wife and a mother. I am a Catholic,
and I am interested in many things such as,
I love to cook and clean often passing by the cleaned
area to see what a good job I did, a bit of pride there.
I love babies and old people and love to do things to make
them happy. The elderly are full of knowledge, some of it
maybe forgotten but what remains is a lesson for our ears.
I love to hear about the ‘good old days’, and our parents filled
our eager ears with many a tale. I find all people interesting,
no matter what colour or creed. Their cultures, their habits,
the ‘whys’, the ‘wherefores’ what makes up their daily lives.
More than likely they have good days and bad days like the rest of us.
I guess you could say I have an ingrown curiosity about a lot of things.
Our world is a beautiful place created by the One True God. Sometimes
though I find it a hard place to live when mankind seems to be doing all in
its power to reek havoc on all that is good. I do realize there is a lot of good
still manifesting itself , but when all we see or read in the media proves the
opposite to be true, we begin to wonder just what is happening in the region of
people’s hearts. It appears the ice age has returned to mankind and their frozen
hearts can’t function in the manner God intended. If we want things to get back
to times when compassion was the norm, when empathy dwelled among us, and sharing
was done without thought, it was just something you did, we must start to
realize Who we are in Christ, not the world. The first thing being the fact that
I am God’s child, and He loves me with an everlasting love. He knew me before I
was born, and He loves me just the way I am. I am loveable and beautiful and have
infinite worth. Without me, creation would not be complete and I am unique.
He lives in me and I in Him. He wants me to live fully and abundantly and He sets
me free and fills me with joy. It is by His grace alone that He gives me life. I
accept all that He gives me and I thank Him for the real person I am.
All those who read these words, acknowledge that it’s true for the whole
family of God everywhere in all His Creation.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Mar. 29, 2007

IT’S THE LITTLE THINGS

With the experience that comes with time
I’ve realized it’s not the size of the gift, but the
attitude and the sentiment of the giver. A gift given
begrudgingly might as well be back in the store,
as there will be no joy in it, and there will be bad
feelings all round. I’d rather just be remembered,
or treated special for awhile, fix my dinner for me and then
we could dance together in the living room to some romantic
music. Wouldn’t that be nice? The things of this life just gather dust
and I want the gift of memories, that comes from doing personal,
loving, touching things for each other, that speak of genuine love
and respect. It can happen in those unforgettable
moments when you suddenly realize that you both have been sitting
in each other’s company in total peace without a word
for the longest time. To me, that is happiness of the lasting kind and hearts
overflow with that special love that God gives us, all comforting and serene.
Another thing that must be kept fresh is the touching. The caress of a hand
on the neck of our spouse as we pass by has the affect of letting the receiver know
that we acknowledge his/her presence and tells them that we care. Touch is needed
by each and every person from the cradle to the grave and without it we humans
become disfunctional and unable to interact with our peers in a normal way.
A hug heals, rejuvenates, soothes and encourages the hugger as well as the huggee.
A simple ‘thank you’ and a smile can work wonders and when you listen to someone’s
pain filled words and let them know you are there for them, somehow it halves the
problem and gives solace to a heart heavily burdened.
So don’t give me gifts a-plenty, of them I have no need,
It’s the little things I care about, they mean everything to me.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Mar. 28, 2007

PRAYER FOR A PRISONER

When you have a lonely day
lift your eyes to God and pray,
He promised you’d not be alone
He knows your heart it’s hurts enthroned.
You were His child before your birth
He’ll show you all that is your worth
just trust in Him for all you need
and from your prison you’ll be freed.
Wings He’ll give you so to soar
and you’ll dwell with Him forevermore.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Mar. 28, 2007

APPOINTMENTS

We are appointed in this life
to take on special tasks,
and there are rules to follow
if this blessing is to last.

When we go to see the doctor
it is best that we prepare,
the answers to the questions
that we know he’ll ask us there.

When exam time nears in every school
this appointed time to find,
how all the students have progressed
and those who’ve wasted time.

At every precious moment
there is something to be learned,
don’t squander time for it’s God’s gift
never to be spurned.

The last appointment we must keep
no one can pass it by,
when we’re in the court of Jesus
and we meet Him eye to eye.

It will be best if we’ve prepared
done our homework so to say,
this exam will be our final one
for it will be judgement day.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Mar. 27, 2007

IF WE COULD SEE

If we could see our lives today
with Jesus’ knowing eyes,
our legs would not support us
our sins we’d so despise.

We do not deserve His Mercy
but He gives it just the same,
Oh gentle heart of Jesus
rid us of disgrace and shame.

All our imperfections
make it hard to understand,
Your Perfect Love so freely given
as You gently reprimand.

Back when You walked among us
Your example to us giving,
You showed in every circumstance
how we all should be living.

Oh Lord forgive our stubbornness
and the times we disobey,
for You’ve given us the road map
to lead us to that day.

The choices then that we have made
was our love to all men shown,
did we forgive our neighbour
did we care for those alone.

We’ll know without a single word
as we gaze into Jesus’ eyes,
we’ll see the times we didn’t love
and know His pain, our sins despise.

Before this day’s upon us
pick up the Cross, follow behind
the Lord our God will lead you
where His Love will ever shine.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Mar. 27, 2007

WILD FLOWERS FOR MARY

Spring will always be my favourite time
the air so fresh and clear,
new growth just below the surface
flower faces soon appear.

When we realized it was the time
pussy willows had turned out,
in their soft new furry coats
our hearts would fairly shout.

So faithfully they come each year
with thoughts of an earlier time,
of picking flowers for Mary’s altar
in the month of May sublime.

There would be Trilliums both white and red
dog toothed violets, heads hung down,
purple violets and cowslips
on the moist and spongy ground.

We’d sing all her lovely hymns
our hearts all shining bright,
votive candles flickered gayly
it was such a holy sight.

It was a joy to walk among the trees
with such beauty at our feet,
temperatures a little fresh as yet
put a glow upon our cheeks.

Somehow we never noticed
we were a merry band,
for we’d picked flowers for Our Lady
and life was oh so grand.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Mar. 25, 2007

THE WAY OUT

The choices that we’ve made thus far
have brought us to this place and time,
it may be one of happiness
or of a life of crime.

Or maybe in fears gruesome grip
not knowing what the cause,
for there’s no Captain at the wheel
as your life’s ship’s fiercely tossed.

Adrift upon a surging sea
unknown to you the source,
of the only power capable
to keep you on your course.

Bent low by the darkness of the sins
accumulated long the way,
of days, and weeks and months and years
that you never thought to pray.

The Father has been standing by
just waiting for the spark,
of love that’s buried deep within
the dusty chambers of your heart.

You’ve tried many ways to put things right
except the only one that’s true,
it’s time to ask the Lord to enter
so He can do His Work in you.

He’ll bring about the changes needed
you will be born again,
true happiness will come to dwell
where once there lived but sin.

His laws will be the road map
that you follow from now on,
no more fear, no crime just peace and joy
rest in His heart, be calm.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Mar. 25, 2007

What Happened?

It seems that not that long ago
sanity was to be found,
as of late those in high places
have run it out of town.

I was growing up in my town
back some fifty years ago,
Tweed was a haven for all families
a better place we’d never know.

Life went at a slower pace
days were filled up to the brim,
our neighbours knit into our lives
every day they fit right in.

Today, I sit out on my porch
alone a long time I will be,
at all hours neighbours come and go
they have no time for me.

Once right was right and wrong was wrong
now all is upside down,
they tell us we can’t pray in school
yet what they teach has made God frown.

They are pushing their agendas
filled with darkness and with lies,
spinning webs to trap God’s children
if we don’t open up our eyes.

Oh you who love your children
take a stand, put up a fight,
don’t let them steal their little minds
as parents you have rights.

It’s God’s agenda we must follow
keep Him always in our sight,
He’ll lead us into victory
and take away this dark, dark night.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Mar. 24, 2007

WHERE THE HEART IS

So many find it hard to grasp
the elusive happiness,
when you ask someone, they often say
it’s anybody’s guess.

Like ants upon a sandy mound
we scurry to and fro,
in search of this happiness
that all people long to know.

It comes not from things abundant
nor from drugs you sniff or smoke,
it’s not in promiscuity
or laughing at some nasty joke.

These things are what the world provides
false and lasting but a blink,
in a fog of phony empty lies
into Satan’s hands they sink.

The place where happiness is found
is deep within your heart,
just say in all sincerity
Lord, come in and help me start.

To know You in a way profound
is to know true happiness,
to know You’ll love me always
puts all my fears to rest.

Oh my Jesus, thank You
for Your faithfulness to all,
You opened up our clouded eyes
and muted ears now hear Your Call.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Mar. 24, 2007

I AM THE RESURRECTION

My children, know the reason
why on the Cross I died,
erasing all the evils
that on all mankind betide.

Three days have passed within the tomb
it’s time the fruits to show,
of pain and so much suffering
see what I told you, it is so.

I am the Resurrection
to all I bring new life,
I’ve risen, so that all will know
gone the darkness and the strife.

With My rising I now bring to you
a new way I impart,
Heaven’s door once closed, now open
there’s new hope for every heart.

There’s no reason now to worry
just put your trust in Me,
for your happiness I know what’s best
follow where I lead, be free.

When I died, was placed within the tomb
the old way put to rest,
My Sepulchre became the womb
to bring forth everlasting happiness.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Mar. 22,2007

GIVE AND TAKE

God’s gifts to all so numerous
we can’t grasp their magnitude,
He is love, its very essence
to all His Holy Love exudes.

He gives from out His Treasury
His hands ever overflowing,
we take without a grateful thought
our thanks to Him not showing.

The reason for these gifts of love
like in the talent’s parable,
is to use them to help others
making sure their hands are full.

We take from our Heavenly Father
and our thanks should always be,
in the spending of these talents
for God’s precious family.

To take and take without a thought
of your neighbour’s misery,
because of the greed within us
we don’t have eyes to see.

Ears no longer hear the voices
of those who live in poverty,
hearts hardened by their love of self
know no such thing as charity.

As God looks down upon the masses
of His children grown so cold,
and sees the day of judgment
and how all will unfold.

The sorrow we must cause Him
so deep must be His pain,
to think that for us His suffering Son
gave His life, a death of shame.

Because of His Victory on the Cross
where He took on all our sins,
now for everyone it’s possible
His Kingdom for to win.

Lord, awaken all our senses
to Your love’s intensity,
and help us spend our talents
out of love oh God for thee.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Mar. 21, 2007

ROLES I’VE PLAYED

First I was a gift of joy
parental love had summoned me,
God sent me from His Kingdom
to be part of their family.

In retrospect I see now
I was a link in their chain of love,
as new links were added on
we were strengthened from above.

As I grew and played my part as a child
the sweetest role as yet to play,
I made the most of daylight hours
wasted not God’s gift of days.

As a teen my role was harder
as sickness took its toll,
hindered from this time of growing
I could never have foretold.

Down the bumpy road of illness
I took my first scary steps,
endless days of gasping for a breath
I felt useless and inept.

I had to change my way of living
adjusted soon to a new way,
slower paced and doing oft without
what other teens lived out each day.

In spite of all this illness
I grew in my own way,
my life was different but still good
as I turned to God and prayed.







This act of praying, my saving grace
gave me the strength to carry on,
like He said, He’s always with us
everyday and then beyond.

At the age of 25
I met the one whom I would share,
my life until our final day
go with him everywhere.

So wife became my new role
which was blessed by God’s own hand,
and to this day He’s with us
joined with Him, we take our stand.

Before long mother was my title
four times this miracle came to be,
we marvelled at their littleness
little angels born to me.

They got the sicknesses of children
measles, mumps and chicken pox,
they fell like so many dominoes
it was then I nursed my flock.

On and on the story goes
as is with all our lives,
I wait in hope to be awarded
God’s promises, the prize.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Mar. 20, 2007

OH, OH, CANADA

A land of milk and honey
is our country Canada,
the beauty of the land and people
used to make us shout hoorah.

We have fields of grain abundant
and in every grocery store,
there’s enough to feed our population
and several countries more.

Why is it that we have to pay
a toonie for a loaf of bread,
we have more wheat than we can use
prices mounting to our dread.

How can those among us
who draw just minimum wage,
pay for life’s necessities
it puts me in a rage.

They need what keeps them healthy
just the same as you and I,
to get ahead is nigh impossible
with prices now sky high.

It seems that those that have the most
keep on getting more and more,
and those that really need it
use the food bank not the store.

The scales of justice need to balance
those that have must learn to share,
for the excess that we’ve stashed away
the poor, it’s also theirs.

For the riches of the world
belong to all God’s family,
let’s share the bounty that we have
and restore their dignity.

Laws of darkness are enacted
it seems we have no say,
there’s no one left to vote for
who’ll bring God’s laws into play.

Our country is so wounded
and does not our sentiments show,
they’re erasing all that’s made us proud
so many years ago.

Bring to us the people needed
Lord, before it is too late,
come back in force to Canada
common sense to re-instate.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Mar. 18, 2007

LEAD ME NOT INTO TEMPTATION

From the time that I first understood
what was right and what was wrong,
I’ve tried to follow Lord Your guidance
and not that of the throng.

I fell Lord in my humanness
to weak to stem the tide,
my sins filled me with such guilt
temptation took me for a ride.

Satan couldn’t keep me in his clutches
my conscience took the upper hand,
Your voice it called me from within
You told me of Your Plan.

Years have passed, it’s now more clear
that from the time of all Creation,
I was made to love and follow You
live with You, Your every Station.

Put me Lord, not to the test
for weak I still might be,
I know that You, my Lord, my God
are my true destiny.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Mar. 17, 2007

HOW LONG, LORD

It’s upsetting Lord, to listen
to what the media has to say,
how Your people slowly have been drawn
to live the dark side, it’s their way.

Long ago You gave to everyone
the choice of evil or of good,
through the years some have forgotten
to live the way they should.

They think not how much they hurt You
or of their fate on judgement day,
thinking only of earth’s pleasures
and push You Dear God away.

Increase the fruits of daily prayers
for all of these who stray,
help us Lord to bring them back
to live a holy life, we pray.

So that one day in Your Kingdom
we’ll have won our rightful place,
and will see the glorious vision
of our Good God’s Holy Face.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Mar. 16, 2007

GOOD MORNING JESUS

It’s so good to be here Lord
at the start of each new day,
to drink in the peace and quiet
Your gift, this time to pray.

To say “good morning Jesus”
it’s me, I’ve come to ask,
that You stay close beside me
as I complete my daily tasks.

To know You’re always with me
brings such comfort and such peace,
and when I fall I know Lord
Your love will never cease.

You pick me up and dust me off
when I go to You, repent,
You forget the errors I have made
for them all, Your life was spent.

Lord, we are mere mortals
understanding not the love behind,
a Sacrifice so shameful, yet victorious
grasped not by the human mind.

Lord, Your Living Word is written
forever in my heart,
I will follow in Your footsteps
until we meet within Your Heart.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Mar. 16, 2007

WHEN I WAS YOUNG

My first memory that remains indelibly written on my
consciousness was of my dad and myself standing out
in our front yard, where I was looking on as he burned
the long grass to get rid of the weeds and renew our yard
with dewy crisp blades of green for a carpet. This was a common
practice in those days. Our yard was large and there weren’t
any power mowers, so normally dad used a scythe which
was a labourious undertaking indeed. He never complained
and went about his tasks in a steady quiet manner as was
his habit. I was enjoying the scent of burning grass and
the peaceful comradery with my dad on this glorious day,
when all at once the melodious pealing of every church bell
in our small village jarred us to attention. Not knowing as yet
what was happening, we stood there in awe and wonderment
It was of course the manner in which they let the people
know that the war was over. Of the remainder of the day,
I have no recollection whatsoever.
My next memory is of the Orangemen’s Parade that took place
yearly in the month of August. All we children knew, was
that it had something to do with”The Battle of The Boyne’,
that was between the Catholics and the Protestants a
long time ago. With our youth we never understood the whys
and the wherefores of it all, but there was a little chant we
used to call out as they paraded on the street which I cannot
recall and I guess it’s better that way. It turned a slow day
into one of excitement and we admired the pure white steed
the leader rode and the rat-a-tat-tat of the drums.
I have a small memory of when the highway was put through
our town, or maybe it could be the result of mom telling us
over the years of the blasting and how the debris reigned down.
There was a warning first and all the moms went to retrieve
their kids and bring them to safety then “BARROOM”’,
the earth would shake and we would all screech with
the noise of the blast. I can’t be sure, but I believe my
mother’s holy water bottle came out of hiding and we
were all promptly sprinkled as was also the case with
electrical storms.
Then we move on to the exciting time when our street
was finally paved and we children bugged the construction
workers and looked on with our eyes all agog at the size of
the steam shovel and the acrid repugnant smell of the hot tar
yet it didn’t stop us from sampling the foul mixture for chewing
gum. It was ghastly and we spit and spit to rid our mouths
of the taste. We kept our guardian angels on the hop, and they
must have smiled at some of our antics.
A very pleasant memory is of our dear old cow ‘Betsy’
who kept the grass cropped and supplied us with fertilizer
for our large garden. Today this would not be possible, to have
an animal in town, but this was back when things were more
laid back and friendly. She supplied our large family with
milk and butter and her beautiful presence. I don’t remember
but I was told what happened when she had to leave us.
Betsy loved our mother and they had a friendship that was
touching, so when the men with the truck came to get her,
she wouldn’t let them put her into it and my dear soft
hearted mother had to lead her into the truck herself.
It was so hard on mom, she cried as the truck pulled out
onto the highway and Betsy was bawling pitifully.
Poor mom, poor Betsy! Such is life!
We also purchased at one time some baby chicks and
cared for them until they were ready for the pot, which as
an innocent didn’t realize their fate. I used to go out to
the barn and converse with them and one day one of the
chickens clucked in such a way as to sound like my name.I
ran to mom telling her this and I think I caused her some
anxiety because she knew the future and I didn’t.
Then one day my favourite chicken mysteriously disappeared,
and I found out later on that my pet was supper that night.
I was crushed! So much for the hard knocks of life, and on to
the fun we had with all the many kids on our street.
We played red rover, red rover, won’t you come over, statue, ditch tag,
keely keely over, may I, we skipped, roller skated, played marbles,
bounced balls off the walls of the house and so on and so forth.
The days were deliciously carefree and we fell into bed at 9 pm.,
scrubbed, rosy-cheeked and exhausted from our exploits. Oh it
was grand to be a kid back then. Life was more slow paced and
easy going and there weren’t so many bad happenings in the news,
as our small town was still a safe place to be brought up.
We hadn’t been touched too strongly by progress so all was
perfect for raising under God’s blue sky with no threat of war
or huge disasters. All was happy and peaceful.
Thank You Jesus for the gift of life.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Mar. 15, 2007