"STORM The storm in fury beats outside tonight The snow piles high, The snowplows can't get through The chill winds blow. Just hope the power lines hold Or we've no light-- As well, no heat or water For the pump, and furnace Run on magic current coming through the wires From Baie d'Espoir. A modern way of life, a modern storm When worries spring from loss of power lines; Man planned, man built, and also man supplied. Not like the long ago when winter storms Shut families in together, safe, secure. The woodbox filled and overflowed with logs Of seasoned birch, spruce, tamarack or pine. The rubbed oil lamps gave out a cheery light The black topped stove burned red with extra heat. When mother sang, and Father stories told And beds were warmed by heated lengths of wood; And all the family waited for the calm After the storm. Written after a storm when we were worried that the power would fail. Amelia (Rideout) Hodder"   Submitted By: NULL