I have some fond memories of Silver Stream School. One of my favorites was Christmas concert time. It would start about a month before the concert, each student who had a part in the play would be given some lines to memorize . One year in particular, probably grade three, I was slated to play a fat man in the play and I practiced my lines faithfully every night after supper for weeks.
I don’t remember the name of the play or even what it was about but I took the whole thing very seriously. We had a number of rehearsals in the last week before the performance but for some reason there was no dress rehearsal. The night of the play I still didn’t know what I was wearing for a costume but I soon found out. Miss Enns had arranged for another student, who happened to be quite portly, to bring in a set of his clothes, and in the little kitchen which served as our dressing room I was stuffed into the clothes along with several pillows. I remember thinking later on, why didn’t they just get the fat kid to play the part but I suppose that would have been seen as type casting.
Anyway, I’m waiting in the wings for my cue and finally my big moment came. With a few last words of encouragement from Miss Enns I was given the go sign and I stepped out on the stage. The plan was for me to walk across the stage speaking my opening lines as I went. However, I didn’t get ten feet before the entire audience burst forth in gales of laughter. I think they forgot to tell me this might happen because I froze and immediately forgot my well rehearsed lines. I just stood there in utter confusion and the words were totally lost from my head. How I got though it, I don’t know, it’s a total blank, but someone, probably Miss Enns fed me my lines in a loud stage whisper and I stumbled through it somehow.
I was completely mystified over the roars of laughter and my mother had to clue me in later. Apparently the sight of this overstuffed fat guy with the tiny little head compared to the body was the funniest thing that audience had seen in years. It was quite some time after that before I agreed to play a part in a play again.
I remember one event that was a little less traumatic. I think it was in grade four. By then Miss Enns realised I was quite proficient in spelling so she decided I would be entered in the provincial spelling bee that year. She spent extra time between classes drilling me and enlisted my parents help to do the same thing at home. When the big day came I was ready. The contest was held in Gladstone, the closest large town and kids came from all over the area to compete. Instead of everybody lining up against the wall and taking turns until we made an error and had to sit down, this contest was done on paper. All the contestants sat at desks in rows and the master of ceremonies read out each words one at a time, pronouncing them carefully and giving an example of how it was used in a sentence. We were given a set time to write each word on our sheet of foolscap before the next one was given. I think there were 100 words for the test.
It turned out I got 100% right but I didn’t win the spelling contest. The girl who won also got 100%, but her printing was neater than mine. Oh well, I got an E for effort as they say.
Next Monday I’ll tell you more about school Christmas concerts and a special treat we all looked forward to, the tree planting car.
**Bill Gould** spent 43 years as a long-haul truck driver before trading the steering wheel for a keyboard to help fellow Canadians navigate the road of retirement. A freelance writer, published author, and editor of over 50 books, Bill co-founded *Canadian Senior Moment* with his wife, Marilyn, to provide a trusted space for seniors to find clarity, safety, and connection in the digital age. When he isn’t troubleshooting “tech gremlins” or sharing childhood memories of the Prairies, he can be found in his woodshop or working on his latest novel.