My mother was a music lover. I remember her so often as a singer of songs in Spanish and later in English as she listened to English language programs on the radio. She may not have known the meaning of all the words but the songs were sung with a voice from heaven and a passion for the music. In fact, there was a time when I sang many a song in Spanish and of course, my night prayers were also in Spanish. After my mother died in 1942, when I was ten, I learned French very quickly and lost much of the Spanish that I had learned.

 

The Sounds of the North

The ravens make their call, to all.
The winds through willows sing.
Leaping fish and quiet splash,
Give rise to comfort, pleasure.

Howl of wolf, scurry of feet,
Amid the forest ever deep.
Life all around with such sound,
To me it is all music.

The drums do beat another song,
Rhythm ever present.
Tradition abounds in family groups,
And dance reflects the culture.

With music at its very core,
Uplifting spirits for evermore.
Life all around, with much sound,
To me it is all music.

 

In 1944 I attended a private boarding school and here I was again quite different from the French Canadian students. Although I attended classes devoted to Franco-American students and therefore given in English, everything else was totally and absolutely in French. This immersion waswonderful for the absorption of many elements of another culture, leading to a better understanding of the Quebecois mentality and culture. In subtle and not so subtle ways, they wanted freedom.