by Jayne Melville Whyte
Edited from my grade XI assignment, “What did you do on your summer holiday?”
“Good morning!” I called as I jumped from the top bunk feeling happy and rested. I opened the door to let the sunshine in.
“And just what is it good for?” muttered the voice from the lower bunk at Camp Outlook.
What a disappointment to have my greeting returned in such a dismal fashion.
I could sympathize with Cathy (names changed to protect the guilty.) After all, it had been morning before some of the campers said “Good night.”
“Good night” at four hours after midnight might have sparked, “How would I know? I haven’t been to sleep yet.” I wouldn’t have heard that sarcasm; I’d fallen sleep early in the discussions of boys and clothes and teenage dreams.
For me it was a good morning. The sun was shining like a polished jewel in a lake-blue sky. The birds weren’t scolding; the chattering sparrows on the caragana branches were wishing us a happy day. The clouds weren’t contesting with the sun. Even the thorny wild rose was trying to conceal its weapons. It was a rare and radiant morning in nature. The only discord was the people!
The earth was at peace with itself. But that didn’t ensure “Good will to all.”
I was at Camp Outlook. I had a choice. I affirmed more quietly to myself, “Good morning.”