My very own bedkit
Jill Adams — Peterborough, ON
Today's the day. It's here at last.
I have been chosen. I was not passed.
When Rotarians and Lions
Made up their list
They told us to be there
So none would be missed.
My family woke early.
We all are aquiver
As we walk from our village
To the boat on the river.
It's a long walk for children
From six's to twelve's
But we are so happy
Enjoying ourselves,
Our boat trip takes more than a couple of hours,
We pass time by counting the hyacinth flowers.
We are so excited and a little afraid,
What is it that these Canadians have made?
We finally meet as our riverboat lands,
Our arrival is noisy with lots of commands.
"Line up, sit down,
Undress," and lots more.
They organize us
When we get to the shore!
They tell us we have to
Look good for our photos.
We put on new clothes
And sit in neat rows.
Then a lady named Jill
Is telling us, "Stand,"
Old clothes neatly bagged
And a ticket in hand.
She passes us on to Mary Ann King,
Who asks us to sit on a big bucket thing,
And there spread out for all to see:
I think to myself, "Is this all for me?"
Bed, blanket, and sheets,
And a school bag with zippers,
Shawl, towel, shirt, thongs,
And some real sharp nail clippers!
Linda smiles and we sit at ease,
Shoulders straight and close our knees.
"Hasho, hasho," our smiles she entreats,
With a click of the shutter
Our photo's complete.
As Ms Norma leads us to the end,
We know that we are with a friend.
Ron and Peter lift a bundle
As towards them
We all trundle,
On my head at last it sits,
I smile and relax.
I know it fits,
It's mine to take,
For the family to see,
And I know that it
Belongs to me.
Thank you SCAW, and Murray and Margaret,
I'll always treasure my very own bedkit.
