singing
Fingerprints
By Bonnie Baxter The sun cast long morning beams through my home’s front door window as I sat at my desk trying to get some work done. I glanced at the wall by the door, and noticed a greasy imprint of a hand, illuminated by the sun: all four fingers and even the palm. At first I felt a flash of exasperation at my housekeeping and that I hadn’t noticed the handprint before. I sized up the length and shape of the fingers to see if I could figure out who the culprit was. But then I remembered the…
Read MoreForgotten Words
by Sheena Koops I am singing “As Long as the Grass Grows: A Treaty Song from Saskatchewan” at the front of a wooden-pewed, domed assembly hall on a Sunday morning in Regina, Saskatchewan, Treaty Four Territory. I have sung the first verse: They are living documents, First Peoples’ and the Crowns’ Building blocks of Canada, to which we are bound Sacred agreements, the Pipe and the Pen Brother to Brother, Peace Good Order to Men I am singing the chorus a second time, and I begin to feel anxious. I can’t remember the beginning line to the next verse. I…
Read MoreSing
Jennifer Wallace Those who know me know that I love to sing. It is no secret. From a young age, I tried to emulate my mom by singing whatever line in a song she was singing in church. I sang along with the radio. I eagerly joined choirs, auditioned for musicals and singing groups whenever the opportunity arose. I still love to sing. I cannot help but want to join in when I see the African’s Children Choir in performance. I feel the same way watching YouTube videos of senior citizen choirs. How good it is to be united in…
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