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Learner story archives

November 3, 1997

The following story was written by Jerome Charlie, from Merritt, British Columbia. Jerome does traditional native dancing on the powwow circuit. He now lives in Burns Lake, B.C.

Cold Night

by Jerome Charlie

My friends and I stand around talking on what we know as Squaw Hill, with the smoke blowing in our hair from the chimneys of houses that look like castles on a hill.

The cold wind passes through our ski jackets as we talk. Our ears and hands grow more numb with each minute. We decide to walk down to the Lakelander for a coffee. When the warm sensation of the coffee has filled our bodies we can smell our fries and gravy ready to be served. The wind howls like a wolf as we sit by the window of the restaurant, nursing our fries.

We found our ride, or perhaps I should say our ride found us, like a couple of lost puppies in the cold. We outsmarted the howling wind and caught a ride home on that bitterly cold night.

[Taken with permission from In Our Country, Personal Stories About Northern B.C., p. 153,, published by The College of New Caledonia].

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