February 1st, 2001
Table of Contents
Our Blankets by Jill B.
Flemish People On Board the Titanic by Sofie DuBois
Glimpse of the Past- St. Valentine's Day
You Are by Merle Stephenson
Words of Love by Merle Stephenson
Savage by Amanda M.C. Millard
La Prima Ballerina by Amanda M.C. Millard
Escape by Amanda M.C. Millard
Our Blankets by Jill B.
The thermometer nailed to the maple tree outside my window reads seventeen degrees. Even though I've told the furnace I'd like the house to be sixty- eight degrees, I feel cold; I feel the seventeen degrees seeping in. The tea in my cup and the blanket around my shoulders is helping. When I close my eyes and pull the corners of my blanket snug around me, I feel the past. A child hovered against its mother, wrapped in wool crossing a wind swept prairie. Indians asleep under blankets of hyde. Hobos on trains, chilled under layers of newsprint covers. I don't know the exact point when the blanket was conceived or its history, but it interests me. Such a simple invention, really, a thought. Shapes of cloth draped over the body.
My babies are tucked in, I pray, feeling some of my sixty-eight degree request. I dress them in layers and heap them with blankets to keep them warm, which will hopefully comfort and convince their little souls to sleep long. The mounds of snow outside give us all cabin fever and some days our dreams are our only escape. Their time asleep, my only rest.
When my kids were born we got so many blankets as gifts. I remember wondering how in the world I'd ever make use of all that material. Yards of it! Squares of cotton hemmed, rectangles of flannel layered and quilted, circles of yarn crocheted. I got a basket out and piled them all inside, a tower of color I had no hopes for but to serve as a dust catcher. Quickly, reasons to use the blankets came up. Picnics, hideaways, forts, wind blocks, dolly blankets, sun screens, spit up rags, pillows, warmth and comfort. My blanket basket was always empty and the laundry always teaming with dirty blankets. My simple swaths of material proving to be quite versatile, useful, and helpful. Now, no matter what the occasion, my favorite gift to receive is a blanket. My blanket tower gets higher each year, but I don't mind. I welcome every addition knowing that it will serve and comfort us.
We live in a world that is depersonalized daily. We can get groceries without leaving our house! Cell phones, e-mail, gadgets and gizmos that make the world smaller but limit our human contact. My soul aches over this and I seek comfort in anyway I can. Like a child, I cuddle in my blankets. I remember that mother on the prairie, the Indian in his teepee, and the hobo in his boxcar. I can't email them or call them, but I can remember them, and dream for them, and stay warm for them in my blankets.
Flemish People On Board the Titanic by Sofie DuBois
On December 20th of the year 2000, I went to the exhibit "Vlamingen op de Titanic" (Flemish people on board of the Titanic) in Ghent, Belgium. Because I'm a student and study in Ghent, I could go on a Wednesday when there are few people. The price of my ticket was 300 BEF (about 7 US dollars)- that was about the price they paid to get on board of the Titanic, the famous cruise liner in 1912, still famous now, but not for his glory, but for this tragedy that happened in April of 1912. Before you start the exhibit, you have to pass the "estaminet" (that's what they called a bar in those days). The warden of this "estaminet" gave an explanation why the journey began there. It begins there because in 1912, it also started in an estaminet- it is were they bought their tickets for the voyage. Since I wanted to go on board, I traded my ticket for a 'real ticket' of the Titanic. I also got a drink before I could start. The next stop is where you get your headphones and where you get your first sticker (see pictures). The meaning of this exhibit is that it's not just one where they give facts but here they tell the story of 3 people on board. The first person they start with is Gusta Vanderplancke. Gusta was 18 years old at the time, and she stayed 18 years old because she died on board. She was a third class passenger. Her story is narrated by someone who plays her and tells the story; how she went to England and how she died (that was horrible).
The second person is Berthe Mayné. Berthe was a call girl but she made a good catch - she fell in love with a Canadian gentleman. She traveled with him as his mistress, but his family didn't know anything about her until her lover died and his family took her in. With Berthe, you get the other side of the story- the glamour and glitter of her journey as a first class passenger (she stayed in a B-deck suite).
The last story is that of Jean Scheerlinck, also known as Jules Sap. This is a special story because he was one of the few men on board who survived. Another interesting fact is that he was a third class passenger. The exhibit is really breath-taking. The part that made me cry was during his story, you go in a room where everything is covered with icebergs and you see a movie of icebergs. After that, there is a small room where on the wall and floor there are identification tags of those who died: name, class, clothes. When you look up to the ceiling, you can see a movie of when Dr. Ballard found Titanic. It feels so real and it hits you that it is real. It was a wonderful exhibit to go to. And I say to everyone who gets the chance to see has to go. The only problem is that you must know Dutch and French. Here's a webpage with more information (only Dutch and French)
If anyone has questions, you may ask me and I'll try to answer.
Pictures included with article
1) Exhibit Entrance Ticket
2) Titanic ticket with stickers
3) Flyer cover
4) Flyer inside with Jules Sap
"You must be careful how you walk, and where you go, for there are those following
you who will set their feet where yours are set."
~Robert E. Lee
"Never let the fear of striking out get in your way."
~George Herman "Babe" Ruth
"Success is how high you bounce when you hit bottom"
~General George Patton
The History of St. Valentine's Day
Have you ever wondered why we give candy to our sweethearts on February 14th? Why no another day? And who on earth is Valentine? The History Channel gives an in depth look at the possibilities behind this interesting and romantic holiday.
History of St. Valentine's Day
~~*~~
You Are by Merle Stephenson
That beautiful thought that lives in my mind
The lovely flower that is rare to find
The gentle breeze that blows so free
That special feeling inside of me
The rose of red that grows so fair
The scent of jasmine in the morning air
The purr of a kitten snuggled so tight
The twinkle of thousand stars in the night
The tenderness of a snow white dove
The pure bare essence of absolute love
The moonlight glistening off a china blue sea
You are everything to me
~~*~~
Words of Love by Merle Stephenson
She's not a physician yet she heals
She's not a child yet she cries
She's not a bird yet her spirit soars
She's not a tree yet she's true
She's not a writer yet she authors my life
She's not a musician yet she emanates a melody
She's not an artist yet she fills the world with beauty
She's not a cloud yet she floats through my thoughts
She's not the moon yet she lights up the night
She's not water yet I thirst for her
She's not a warrior yet I must surrender
She's not a magician yet her touch is magic
She's not an Angel yet she's heavenly
She's not a mystic yet she sees my thoughts
She's knows pain yet radiates infinite compassion
She has seen my faults yet loves me anyway
She has captured my heart yet set it free
She has a truth and honesty that leaves me breathless
It seems we met only yesterday yet I have known her forever
If she were a word, she would be Love
~~*~~
Savage by Amanda M.C. Millard
Bringers of death to unsuspecting prey
Sometimes we, sometimes they
Beyond greenery are ever hidden
Who by instinct are so bidden
Coming forth to seal our doomed fate
If we stumble in hours of late
Only those who are meek will let
The humans make of them a pet.
~~*~~
La Prima Ballerina by Amanda M.C. Millard
Dancer,
Break your back, hurt your feet...
En pointe until you bleed.
Is it worth your passion?
Do roses and snapshots make up for all those lost hours?
Is it worth the discipline and perfection
For the applause of strangers?
So graceful. Exquisite.
Body molded into an immaculate statue.
Admired, like something not human.
Oh, but keep working.
Receive your gifts,
~~*~~
Escape by Amanda M.C. Millard
The movement of his lips is what he seeks
He slowly finds the strength just so he can speak
Dear man, I pray you find good fate
Whether this is to be at the Pearly Gate
~~*~~
Copyright by respective artists, 2000.
