Lizabeth's Story Read Online Free PDF Page A

any food or possessions?” Lizabeth asked. “Their desert sounds terribly harsh.”
    â€œYes, it does.” Reverend Morgan’s smile warmed his long, thin face. “Perhaps when you’re hungry and tired and left to struggle on your own, all your defenses come down and you become open to recognizing some truths about yourself. Perhaps it’s about stripping yourself bare, down to the basics, without the comfort of things you’re used to, and depending only on yourself, without friends to help you. It forces you to come face-to-face with who you truly are.”
    â€œComing face-to-face with who you truly are….” Lizabeth was thoughtful. “Meeting yourself.”
    â€œYes, that’s what I think it means. Though as outsiders, we don’t know all of the Aborigines’ beliefs.”
    â€œMoses and Jesus wandered in the desert, too,” Lizabeth said.
    â€œIt’s not exactly the same, but I would say that all cultures reach out for the spiritual. That seems to be a human need. The Aborigines and our little congregation here in Cape Light aren’t that different under the surface. In all the important ways, people are very much the same the world over.”
    â€œThen the whole world should be friendly,” Lizabeth said. “You know, I think you’ve just given me an idea for next Sunday’s sermon!”
    Lizabeth beamed with pleasure.
    â€œThe book I got from the Pelican Book Shop also shows pictures of Aboriginal art,” she said. “They pass on their history through paintings instead of words. It’s interesting, isn’t it, Reverend Morgan?”
    â€œVery interesting. I think you’ll put together an excellent report, Lizabeth. Sounds like an A to me.”
    â€œOh, I’m not using all of this in my report. I have enough already. I didn’t mean to take up your time for no good reason. I just wanted to know for myself. But if I gave you an idea for a sermon, well, that makes me feel lots better!”
    â€œWanting to know for yourself is the most important thing,” Reverend Morgan said. “Come back to talk anytime.”
    Â 
    At school the next day, Miss Cotter announced, “Time for the native culture reports. Let’s see…today we have Vernon, Mark, Katherine, Lizabeth, and Mabel. Well, no. Mabel is still out.”
    Mabel had been out last week, too. Lizabeth wondered if she was truly sick or helping out at her family’s bait-and-tackle shop. Maybe she had a cold. Hannah had come to school with one. Her nose kept running and Amanda followed her around all day with a handkerchief.
    â€œI have hardly anything,” Kat whispered to Lizabeth. “And this morning Todd reminded me that he wrote about Eskimos for his book report last year. He turned in six pages! I just know Miss Cotter will compare us.”
    Kat’s brother Todd was only ten, but he was one of the best students. Kat is never the least bit jealous, Lizabeth thought, and she always encourages him. It’s nice for a brother and sister to be so close. It made Lizabeth feel a little sad.
    â€œKindergarten, grade one, and grade two in the back of the room, please, with Miss Harding,” Miss Cotter said. The younger children grouped together for a reading lesson with Miss Harding, the assistant teacher. Grades three through nine sat in rows facing Miss Cotter.
    â€œI hope I’m not in trouble,” Kat whispered.
    â€œHurry and settle down,” Miss Cotter said. “We’ll start with Vernon.”
    Vernon shuffled to the front of the room. PoorVernon always had a bad time when he had to recite in front of the class.
    â€œThe Hottentots of…um…Africa,” he mumbled.
    â€œSpeak up, Vernon,” Miss Cotter said. “Everyone wants to hear you.”
    Vernon turned red and swiveled his body from side to side.
    â€œThe…um…Hottentots…are a tribe