Lögberg-Heimskringla - 14.04.1995, Qupperneq 6

6 • Lögberg;Heimskringla • Föstudagur 14. apríl 1995
Sund
Nú voru þau komin í sund-höllina.
Fyrst fóru þau í bað
og þvoöu sér vel og vandlega.
Síðan fóru þau inn aö lauginni.
Árni hljóp af stað.
Hann ætlaði strax í grunnu
laugina,
en rann til og datt á rassinn.
“Sérðu spjaldið þarna?" spuröi
pabbi.
"Lestu það, sem þar stendur.”
Árni geröi það og hélt síöan áfram.
Þau léku sér lengi í lauginni.
Pabbi og mamma syntu,
en börnin busluðu.
"Nei, sjáöu,” sagði Anna.
Þau sáu mömmu stinga sér.
Hún sveif fallega niöur í
laugina.
Swimming
Now they were at the swim-castle.
First they had a bath
and washed themselves carefully.
Then they went in toward the pool.
Arni ran off.
He was going right away to the shallow
pool,
but slid and fell on his bottom.
"Do you see the sign there?” asked
dad.
“Read what it says there."
Arni did that and then continued on.
They played for a long time in the pool.
Dad and mom swam,
but the children splashed.
"No, see that,” said Anna.
They saw mother dive.
She glided beautifully down into the
pool.
FROM ICELA.ND TO WINNIPEG
CONTINUED
their way onto a ship that would carry
them and their meagre personal belong-
ings across the wide Atlantic and their
future home in Canada. It was while in
Scotland that they saw the Clydesdale
horses pulling wagons on the streets,
hauling goods to be loaded onto ships
in the harbour.
Crossing the Atlantic was a matter of
a few days, when life’s activities were to
gaze across the ocean blue between
meals during the day. Finally they
reached Quebec to be loaded onto a
train of immigrant coaches, behind a
coaí-fired locomotive. The clackity-
clack of the wheels crossing rail joints
came up in a steady rythym as the
wildemess slipped by during long hours
in what seemed to be a never ending
wildemess.
Finally they came to Rat Portage,
now Kenora, Ontario. There a few
Icelanders domiciled in the area greeted
them on the station platform, while
their locomotive took on water for
MESSUBOÐ
Fyrsta Lúterska
Kirkja
Pastor Ingthor I. Isfeld
1030 a.m. The Service followed by
Sunday School & Coffee hour.
First Lutheran Church
580 Victor St., Winnipeg, MB
R3G 1R2 Ph. 772-7444
steam, coal for fuel and had the bearings
oiled for the last stretch to Winnipeg.
It was not long before the western
prairie came into view as their train
nudged its way out of the forested
Pre-Cambrian Shield.
Arriving in the outskirts of the city
their train came to a screeching halt in
the railway station on North Main
Street, in Winnipeg. They had reached
their final destination, the central point
to which the Icelanders had flocked on
leaving Iceland to hopefully find a more
hospitable lot on earth than their native
land.
Sveinn and his brother had no-one
to meet them and only two-bits in their
pocket. Fate smiled and gathered them
into her bosom by way of an Icelander
in Winnipeg who took them home. His
heart was bigger than his bankroll for
his income was solely derived from saw-
ing cordwood into stove length by hand
saw. With a sawhorse on his shoulder
and bucksaw in his hand he would walk
down the streets, calling. “Cut wood
Sir!” Sveinn and his brother helped him,
then they bought a saw and went on
their own. After a while they gave up.
At this point Sveinn became ill and
wound up in hospital. After recovering
he went to Morris, Manitoba to seek a
job on the railway tracks which did not
materialize. He returned to Winnipeg
and found a job with a farmer for a cou-
ple of months. After that he managed to
earn an income. He finally ended up
.with old acquaintances and friends in
North Dakota. He was able to bring his
parents from Iceland and thereby ends
the tale.
Minnist
í ERFÐASKRÁM YÐAR
Can you match these words?
See how manyyou can put together ofthese lcelandic and English words:
BAÐ
ÞVO
VEL
VANDLEGA
LAUG
RENNA
STRAX
GRUNNUR
RASS
BUSLA
1.
2.
8.
10.
RIGHT AWAY
BOTTOM
SPLASH
SLIDE
WASH
SHALLOW
WELL
CAREFULLY
POOL
BATH
£ + 01 ‘Z + '6 ‘9 + '8 ‘'l + '£
‘t + '9 “6 + '£ “8 + 'F '•L + •£ ‘£ + 'Z ‘01 + 'I ^SHSMSNV

Legacy
by Renee Morin
A tiny baby begins to grow as the
miracle of life unfolds.
A mother's pain and sacrifice never
even seem to matter
and it’s to that love a tiny baby
blindly holds
as together they face the start of
life’s long road.
So much to be tackled in raising a
child.
Yet each demand and every trial
can prove to be worthwhile
if only to hear the words, ‘I Love
You, Mom’
as you carry your child on down the
road.
Too soon the inevitable day does
come:
time to let go, praying your baby
has learned to fly.
Ever-waiting in the shadows with
arms that never close
as you walk the road now side by
side.
Until that day God’s Fateful call will
be heard;
one will be taken to the side of the
road
and separate paths will have to be
travelled
one by Heaven’ s light — the other
still on Earth.
Whoever first must heed that call,
please know;
you’ll always be in my heart, my
soul and in my dreams
for the legacy I take is the truest
honour I can give:
to keep on going down that road
which you’ve patiently guided me
to.
For all you’ve done and the rest yet
to come,
the words thank you could never be
enough.
And neither is: I Love You, Mom.
Life
by Renee Morln
Tomorrow I must face the world.
Naive once more, again in ignorance.
Tonight I spend in fond remem-
brance
fortomorrow i’ll be born again.
My years have been long; lifetimes
many
and so much more is yet to be.
The memories — oh the memories!
They’re the purpose behind all being.
Melting butter on soft fresh bread,
the coolest kiss of sweet ice-cream,
the gentle caress of warm sun-
beams,
slow dancing in a summer’s rain.
Ocean water lapping at bare feet,
the wildness of a wind-swept shore,
the powerful thundering of a horse,
deep seduction found in the night.
A lover’s touch upon your heart,
the rapture of a stolen kiss,
unconditional love; childish bliss,
the primal thrill of sexual ecstasy.
Thrilled, scared, expectant and
unsure;
I wait to unwrap the gift of life.
It’s come fuli circle now; another
loop complete.
Time comes ‘round again, to feel
again, oh to live again!
Reneé is the great-granddaughter
of Guttormur and Jensína
Guttormsson. She Is the daughter
of Gail Foster (nee Dahlman)