A COVID CHRISTMAS By Tom Macdonald (poem)

     

    tom sept 21 

    Tom Macdonald

     A Covid Christmas

    Twas the night before Christmas, but Covid was here,
    So we all had to stay extra cautious this year.
    Our masks were all hung by the chimney with care
    In case Santa forgot his and needed a spare.
    With Covid, we couldn't leave cookies or cake
    So we left Santa hand sanitizer to take.

    The children were sleeping, the brave little tots
    The ones over 5 had just had their first shots,
    And mom in her kerchief and me in my cap
    Had just settled in for a long winter's nap.
    But we tossed and we turned all night in our beds
    As visions of variants danced in our heads.

    Gamma and Delta and now Omicron
    These Covid mutations that go on and on
    I thought to myself, "If this doesn't get better,
    I'll soon be familiar with every Greek letter".

    Then just as I started to drift off and doze
    A clatter of noise from the front lawn arose.
    I leapt from my bed and ran straight down the stair
    I opened the door, and an old gent stood there.

    His N 95 made him look pretty weird
    But I knew who he was by his red suit and beard.
    I kept six feet away but blurted out quick
    " What are you doing here, jolly Saint Nick?"

    Then I said, "Where's your presents, your reindeer and sleigh ?
    Don't you know that tomorrow will be Christmas Day? ".
    And Santa stood there looking sad in the snow
    As he started to tell me a long tale of woe.

    He said he'd been stuck at the North Pole alone
    All his white collar elves had been working from home,
    And most of the others said "Santa, don't hire us!
    We can live off the CERB now, thanks to the virus".

    Those left in the toyshop had little to do.
    With supply chain disruptions, they could make nothing new.
    And as for the reindeer, they'd all gone away.
    None of them left to pull on his sleigh.

    He said Dasher and Dancer were in quarantine,
    Prancer and Vixen refused the vaccine,
    Comet and Cupid were in ICU,
    So were Donner and Blitzen, they may not pull through.

    And Rudolph's career can't be resurrected.
    With his shiny red nose, they all think he's infected.
    Even with his old sleigh, Santa couldn't go far.
    Every border to cross needs a new PCR.

    Santa sighed as he told me how nice it would be
    If children could once again sit on his knee.
    He couldn't care less if they're naughty or nice
    But they'd have to show proof that they'd had their shot twice.

    But then the old twinkle returned to his eyes.
    And he said that he'd brought me a Christmas surprise.
    When I unwrapped the box and opened it wide,
    Starlight and rainbows streamed out from inside.

    Some letters whirled round and flew up to the sky
    And they spelled out a word that was 40 feet high.
    There first was an H, then an O, then a P,
    Then I saw it spelled HOPE when it added the E.

    "Christmas magic" said Santa as he smiled through his beard.
    Then suddenly all of the reindeer appeared.
    He jumped into his sleigh and he waved me good-bye,
    Then he soared o'er the rooftops and into the sky.

    I heard him exclaim as he drove out of sight
    "Get your vaccines my friends, Merry Christmas, good-night".
    Then I went back to bed and a sweet Christmas dream
    Of a world when we'd finished with Covid 19.

    SHADOW KING BY MAAZA MENGISTE, Reviewed by John Klassen (Article)

     

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    John Klassen

     

    Maaza Mengiste

    Maaza Mengiste Mengiste (1974-) was born in Addis Ababa, but left the country at the age of four when her family fled the Ethiopian Revolution. She spent the rest of her childhood in Nigeria, Kenya, and the USA. She studied in Italy as a Fulbright Scholar, and earned an MFA in creative writing from New York University.

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    OTTAWA'S ELIZABETH RALPH, WHO FOUGHT FOR KING AND COUNTRY IN THE GREAT WAR By Alan Bowker (Article)

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      Alan Bowker

    On Sunday, November 9, 1919, Edward, Prince of Wales (the future King Edward VIII), visited MacKay Presbyterian Church to unveil two brass plaques honouring the 140 men and one woman who, out of a congregation of 437 members and 137 families, had fought for King and Country in the Great War. On one side of the Sanctuary was the Honour Roll listing all who served; on the opposite wall was a plaque bearing the names of the nineteen who died. 

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    UNCLE OTTO'S PUPPET THEATRE By John Klassen (Book Review)

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    John Klassen

     

    Brigid Grauman

    Brigid Grauman was born in Geneva to an Irish mother and American father. She spent her childhood in France, Israel, and Belgium. According to her autobiographical note, this book was “inspired by her quarrelsome and very literary Austro-Hungarian family, many of whom were among the Nazis’ millions victims.”

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    MOST CANADIANS DON'T WANT LAWS AND ENTITLEMENTS BASED ON RACE By Peter Best (Article)

     

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    Peter Best

    (JustOttawa’s Note: Peter Best, in authorizing JustOttawa to publish Chapter 1/ Introduction of his book “There is No Difference” asked that his website, thereisnodifference.ca., be noted. He also referred to Jack Major, retired justice of the Canadian Supreme Court who had written to Best, saying “There is No Difference” continues to impress me no doubt because I agree with it.” Major who had personal experience in the Residential School system says that it is a “myth” that native children were “torn from happy, loving homes.” Many were in fact saved from death by malnutrition and tuberculosis. English was mandatory but “how else to equip the student to function off a particular reserve?”.)

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