SJB-Times-Christmas-2020-Edition

ISSUE. 5 | DECEMBER 2020 ”THIS IS WHERE YOU WANT TO BE!” EST. 2019 THE SJB TIMES CHRISTMAS 2020 EDITION Front cover design & photography by the talented Daniel Vu St. John Brebeuf Regional Secondary School [email protected] | www.stjohnbrebeuf.ca ISSUE. 5 | DEC 2020 IN THIS ISSUE… Embarrassing Memories 3 Merry SJB Decides: True Meaning of Christmas 7 All About Santa! 8 Christmas They do WHAT now? 10 How to Make the Holidays Stress Free! 11 from all of Best Christmas Gifts EVER 12 us at This Teacher’s Spirit Animal: A Slug 15 Christmas Art & Photography 21 The SJB Online vs Traditional Schooling 24 The SJB Do-NOT-Play List 25 Times! 2 ISSUE. 5 DECEMBER 2020 Ready to cringe? Embarrassing & Funny Christmas Memories By Francesca Voischos Memories are naturally associated with holidays, especially around the Christmas season. Whether they are good, bad, funny, or even embarrassing. Our brain works in so many cool and fascinating ways. Imagery and sensory are just two ways that memories are formed in our minds. Sights, sounds, and especially smells play a large role in memory. The more sensory information that is stored, the easier memories are to remember. That is why the smell of pine could bring you back to when you were a kid putting the star on the Christmas tree. Not all memories are exciting, some may be embarrassing or undeniably hilarious J First up is a vivid memory from one of our own grade eights… “I puked on Santa. I don’t remember if I was scared or excited, all I remember is throwing up.” -Anonymous I bet Santa wasn’t too fond of the gift they gave him for Christmas that year. Next up is a memory from one of our own grade nines. “When I was about seven years old I got a bike with training wheels for Chrsotmas and I was so excited that I started jumping up and down. Then I accidentally hit my head on the handlebars and gave myself a concussion.” -Sophia Burton Ouch! Been there and definitely have done that. It wouldn’t be Christmas without a little injury. The list continues as we hear about another memory from one of our own grade tens. “I was at my dad’s hockey game around Christmas time and I fell down the bleachers and a whole bunch of people saw me. Even a bunch of his teammates saw me and I started crying of embarrassment. Not even because I was hurt or anything, I was just so embarrassed. Like, I fell down those bleachers SO hard!” -Katie Buckle Oof! Again, been there and done that. The bleachers can be dangerous weapons. Next on the list is a memory from one of our own grade elevens. “I hope this is okay for the school newspaper, but when I was seven years old I was at a Christmas party and went to the washroom. The party was at a friend’s house, and it was like a family type get together. So I was there in the bathroom when an old guy I didn’t recognize 3 ISSUE. 5 DECEMBER 2020 walked into the washroom. He started getting dressed up as santa. We made awkward eye contact for a solid ten seconds, and then I said ‘you’re not santa’. He said ‘sorry buddy,’ then laughed at me and left.” -Jeremy Yikes! Meeting Santa in the bathroom-well not the real santa-would have been weird as a child. Last on the list is from one of your very own grade twelves. “A few years ago my dad and I were on our way to get some Christmas presents at Gnarly Parts- a motorbike store in Chilliwack. My dad worked that night, so we left early in the morning. It had just snowed the previous night and was crazy cold as well as it looked like a snow globe that had just been shaken. My dad, knowing all the backroads, decided to turn off at one of the unknown exits of the freeway. As we were coming off of the ramp we noticed the beautiful sun coming up over the mountains. It was the perfect scene: trees covered in snow, crystal clear blue skies, a pinky-orange colour cascaded across the bottom half of the sky, miles of land wrapped in the fresh fluffy white blanket we call snow, it was pure beauty. My dad then said ‘let's take a picture for mom’. Knowing how much my mom loves pictures, especially winter wonderlands we pulled over onto the side. I grabbed my phone and just as I was about to take the picture we felt the car make a crunch sound. TWACK I was face to face with the window looking at only snow. I looked up and saw that my dad was elevated and that the truck was leaning. I looked to my right and all I saw was white and to my left all I saw was sky. Rubbing my head from hitting the glass I looked towards my dad for answers. He looked just as confused as I was. We had just gotten Tim Hortons too, so our nice Steep Tea with one sugar and one milk was all over the floor and my lap.Crawling over top of the front seats and out the drivers side window my dad and I escaped. Looking from the outside in, instead of the inside out we realized that my dad had parked in a ditch. Due to it just snowing the night before the ground was all covered and the ditch had filled up with snow, so it looked as if there was no ditch to begin with. Having no way to pull the massive truck from the ditch my dad and I took the beautiful picture for my mom. My dad sent her the picture with the caption ‘look at the beautiful scenery’ and then five seconds later sent a picture of our truck in the ditch with the caption ‘and this is what it took to take it’. After about ten minutes of watching cars pass by, a nice young kid with a truck pulled over and offered to help us out. He said he didn’t have a tow rope, but would gladly help. Being the prepared man that my dad is had a tow rope under the back seat. Because I was the smallest he made me crawl back into the tilted vehicle and pull them out. After another fifteen or so minutes the truck was back on the road. We thanked the kid and headed on our way. When we got to our destination there was another car that was stuck in the snow and lucky for them we had the tow rope all ready to go. We pulled them out and headed on our way. Always remember that if you ever want to take a picture for your mom, get out of the car and check to see if snow is covering a ditch before you pull over.” -Francesca Voischos WAIT!! I can’t forget about the memory of an ALMOST Beatle… CURIOUS WHAT I MEAN? KEEP READING à 4 ISSUE. 5 DECEMBER 2020 The Beatle that almost was… (also by Francesca Voischos) Dr. Lannan’s Embarrassing Christmas Memory… I remember one particular Christmas, I was about 10 years old, and I had asked Santa for a drum kit that year. I discovered The Beatles a few years earlier but felt the time was now right to learn the drums, in case they decided to get back together. I figured I could take Ringo’s place (their drummer), because he always came across as a very nice and accommodating fellow. So I made it clear to Santa in my letter that I wanted a new set of drums, as I planned to be touring with The Beatles in the near future. I figured if I put in those terms there was no way Santa could fail me. I even asked the priests at my parish to pray that I get a new drum kit that year. I didn’t mention my plan of touring with The Beatles; I figured that would be a nice surprise. Finally, Christmas morning arrived. As my siblings and I pillaged the gifts under the tree, I couldn’t help but notice the absence of a package looking like a drum kit. By the time we finished opening our gifts, I recognized that Santa had come up short with the drums. I explained this act of treachery to my parents, fully expecting an outpouring of sympathy and even a pledge of solidarity to avenge this slight by Santa. However, my mom said rather optimistically, “Mr. Lannan, there is still one more present behind the tree. Perhaps that’s your drums.” I scrambled behind the tree to retrieve that lone gift. It had shiny gold wrapping and my name, but it was not much bigger than a shoe box. I started to question the integrity of this Santa Claus fellow. My parents urged me to open it. I, on the other hand, felt bamboozled. Still, I tore the wrapping off and opened the box. There lay a note. It said, “Sorry Mr. Lannan. Santa couldn’t swing the drum kit this year but please enjoy these Bongos!” Bongos, I repeated several times, as though it were a new and foul word in my vocabulary. I ran out to the front porch, yelling “Santa Claus. This is not over!” My feelings for Jolly St. Nick had changed significantly.

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