Ad - The Terrace Standard, Wednesday, December 23, 1998

TERRACE.

STANDARD

ESTABLISHED APRIL, 27, 1988

. PUBLISHER: ROD LINK
‘ADDRESS: 3210 Clinton Street Terrace, B.C. * V8G 5RZ
TELEPHONE: (250) 638-7283 * FAX: (250) 638-8432
EMAIL: standard@kermode.net

Tough job
IF YOU think the toughest job in B.C. is that of
Mike Keenan or Brian Burke in trying to field a

decent hockey team, you’d be wrong.
Instead, cast your eye across the Georgia Straits

and consider the plight of finance minister Joy '
MacPhail. She’s the fourth person to hold that.

portfolio since the first NDP government was

elected in 1991 and by all accounts, seems to be!
the only one to fully understand that a govern-—

ment is not supposed to overspend, tax ex-
cessively or overregulate.

The one weak area of the NDP lies in the econ- .

omy. For the most part, the party views income
and profits as something to be plucked like a ripe
fruit from a tree instead of regarding the whole
tree as a vital and living organism.

To be sure, Ms. MacPhail is as ardent an
NDPer as they come and she follows closely the
NDP philosophy that a government should be a
strong intervenor in the economy.

But she shows clear signs of understanding that
choking the ability of business and of taxpayers

to participate by investment and spending means.

nothing but bad news.

Witness the reaction of other cabinet ministers,
notably Moe Sihota, to various proposals by the
Business Summit, the collection of business
leaders who gathered recently to gather ideas to
revive the province. Mr. Sihota took it as an
ideogical declaration of war and went on the at-
tack with dire warnings. Ms. MacPhail was more
receptive, leading observers to note she would
consider what the business leaders had to say.

Mr. Sihota’s reaction shows that despite all its
years in power, the NDP prefers the heat of
political battle to the more rational job of gov-
ering.

So the’ Best. -Hope for B.C., at least in the next
little while, rests with Ms. MacPhail as she be-
gins work on the next budget. And that leaves us
with the wish she’ll be able to curb her more in-
temperate colleagues.

Wise words

SOMEONE IS off to the Persian Gulf to visit
family. Another person is visiting the Far East.
Someone else is in Hawaii and yet another per-
son is visiting a new nephew on the Prairies.
Others are preparing for a quiet time at home ei-
ther by themselves or to welcome visitors.

It’s the time of year when the skies and roads
are full of people crisscrossing the globe in this
the most special holiday of the year.

The words of Tommy Douglas, a former Bap-
tist minister, former premier of Saskatchewan
and former leader of the federal New Democratic
Party come to mind:

‘If Christmas means anything, it should
mean that, like the shepherds of old, we catch a
vision of the world as it ought to be and not as it
is. This is the season when we should renew our
determination to do what we can, each in our
own way, to build a world founded on human
brotherhood and concern for the needs of
others.”’ .

PUBLISHER/EDITOR: Rod Link
ADVERTISING MANAGER: Brian Lindenbach
PRODUCTION MANAGER: Edouard Credgeur

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CCA BELIER NEWS/COMMUNITY: Alex Hamilton
NEWSPAPERS OFFICE MANAGER: Sheila Sandover-Sly
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ADVERTISING CONSULTANTS: Sam Bedford, Bunnie Cote

TELEMARKETER: Patricia Schubrink
AD ASSISTANT: Kelly Jean COMPOSING: Susan Credgeur
‘AD ASSISTANT/TYPESETTING: Julie Davidson

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Serving the Terrace and Thomhil area. Publlahed on Wednesday of aach week at 3210 Clinton Street,
Terrace, British Columbia, V8G 5A2.

Stories, pholographs, ilustrations, designs and typastyies in the Terrace Standard ave the property of the
* copyright holders, including Cariboo Press (1969) Ld., fa Mustration repro services and advertising

agencies.
Repraguction in whole tar. witout wren perisson, fe specifically probed.
bs novond-class inal pending the Past Crfice Department, for payment of postage kr cash,
ee Special thanks to all our contributors and correspondents
for their time and talents

Avni HOW,

(ARE MUSLIM SHEPHERDS
THE SHEPHERDS YOU'RE LOOKING “ec
oR REINA? DORN

ROADABIT. +.

—~_§

Her voice revives memories :

VICTORIA ~ St. Andrew’s
Cathedral is packed with parents
and grandparents. The occasion
is St. Andrew’s School’s annual
Christmas pageant.

Little tikes crawl on the

floor, resting on their behinds

once ina while, fascinated by the
lights of candles and the activity
at the altar. -

One by one, the seven pri-
mary grades present their musi-
cal selections. Then it is the sev-
enth graders’ turn. Like any par-
ent, well, grandfather in my case,
E look for my charge. There they
are, Pamela among them, singing
Silent Night, Holy Night,

And if by magic, I am trans-
ported back to another evening,
another Christmas pageant, long,
long ago.

;That time, Pamela;s father
Roderick, thetr-maybe 110, was
singing asolo. ?7 ys. 1 A

A woman tumed to my wife
and said, “he has the voice of an
angel.”

Rod has been dead nearly
three years, but his girl’s voice
can yank him back from the
grave into my heart an a split
second.

Somehow, the milestones of
my life have always been

In with old, out with the

GREAT GIFTS are unique
and suited to the recipient, But
for me, a gift should also not
duplicate anything I already pos-
sess because I may never bring
myself to use it.

For most people, duplicates
are a joy. Given a leather wallet,
they immediately empty their tat-
tered one, toss it in the wastebas-
ket, and eagerly transfer money,
credit cards, and identification to
the silky pockets of the new
billfold.

Not me. So long as my old
one has any wear left in it, ’m
attached to it.

' Even new nightgowns stack
up, birthday gift upon Christmas
present, wailing for my aldie to
wear thin as gossamer over the
shoulder blades. Experience tells
me before the replacement fits
comfortably I must remove any
scratchy lace, pick out stitches in
the cuff elastic that strangulates

mes TE THE HEAD'S
Bou Flip THE
mee THING UPANP
MAND BRING IT...

FROM THE-CAPITAL

HUBERT BEYER |

Christmases, not birthdays, From
the earliest Christmas ] remem-
ber in pre-war Germany, my par-
ents not half the age Tam now, to
this Christmas season.

Even Hitler’s terrible new
order, in which eventually there
iwould ‘have been no place for
"jreligion of any kind, couldn?é
‘extinguish the magic of
Christmas. Not that he didn’t try.

At — state-sponsored
Christmas events for the wives
and children of the men serving

at the front, no Christmas music -

was played. These events were
called Volksweihnacht, People’s
Christmas.

The band would play a lot of
songs about winter magic, but

THROUGH -BIFOCALS,
CLAUDETTE SANDECKI

my forearms, and unpin the satin
bow decorating the neckline.

Only then - when the new
one is exactly like my old one
except for wear — will it not inter-
fere with my slumber.

All my life I’ve clung to cus-
tomary possessions — slippers,
jackets, handbags, address books
w. It would pain me to discard a
serviceable item simply because
T now have the luxury of an

This! Now
You TRY!!

nothing with the words Christ or
Christmas in them. The official
Nazi Christmas song was O
Tannenbaum which, unlike the
English version makes no refer-
ence to Christmas. To this day, I

can’t stand that song.
But at every
Volksweihnacht, the pecple

ignored the band and began sing-
ing Silent Night and all the other
beautiful German Christmas
songs.

Life marched on and
Hitler’s new order became the
dust of history.

Christmas, once again,
became what it had been. There
were the terrible post-war years,
hunger and poverty, but those
passed too.

The good memories are of
our family together-again at
, Christmas. Both my father and
“brother had survived. There are
the memories of unwrapping
presents on Christmas Eve, of
walking to church, often through
new-fallen snow, for midnight
mass,

There was the sad experi-
ence of that first Christmas after
my parents’ death, an experience
no-one escapes.

New memories, however,

unused model.

Where my possessive nature
comes from I’m not sure. I
expect it has to do with being a
child of the Depression,
Although I have been accused of
being just too lazy to cut off
labels and sales tags.

| recognize my reluctance to
upgrade. And knowing givers are
wailing to see me enjoying their
gift bothers me a lot, though not
enough to change my ways.

My hesitation would evapo-
rate if my old model would disin-
tegrate. If a jacket became too
tagged for a new zipper; if cuffs
frayed until the whole sleeve
needed replacing, ] could force
myself to dump it.

Family members are exas-
perated with me, My husband
threatens to disappear the old
item when he hands me a gift ofa
new one. My daughter shakes
her head sadly at photos of her

{7

joined the old ones, memories of
our first child.

We put the baby under the
tree because we didn’t have the
money to give each other pre-
sents. By the time the other three
had come along, we had a few
cents to rub together, and the pile
of presents under the tree seemed
to get bigger and bigger by the
year.

Anather poignant milestone
was the first Christmas without
our son, Roderick. But life must
be for the living, and we now had '
a granddaughter to raise, a formi-
dable challenge when one has ,
white hair and gets a monthly ;
Canada Pension cheque, a small .
one, to be sure. “

The Christmas pageant is
over. My granddaughter joins me
in front of the church and asks a
how they sang. a

a say, “you sang”
beautifully,” of

And I remember having said °
that before, after many a
Christmas pageant in which our
children participated. 4

Memories, the magic of...
Christmas. “

Beyer can be reached at: Tel: -
(250) 920-9300, Fax: (250) 356- _
9597; E-mail:
hubert@coolcom.com 6

ee a ee oe eo a ee)

NEw.

children propped against the

radio on my desk while gilt- «
edged picture frames stay:
stacked in the piano bench.

[envy folks who can buy a
pair of slippers and the minute
they cut off the plastic tag, stuff.
the runover pair in the garbage.

Would that] could.

Recently, in England, the «
leather handbag former prime ~
minister Margaret Thatcher dan-
gled from her arm for eleven .
years became an archive in a--
British museum.

If Maggie’s worn purse mer- ©
its preservation, why not mine?

My handbag is older than ™
Thatcher’s, Its corners are worn |
white, the cardboard dividers are
bent, and the silk pockets are .
wearing through. But I can find ..
my library card by feel, and it has *

‘ ample room fora book. .

On a closet shelf waits an‘
unused three-year old handbag.

7

Dip MENTION
MY AUNTIS A
CHIROPRACTOR 7