Miss Riggio not only taught us to write, but she inspired a love of great literature! Who doesn't remember how she had us all memorize the Prelude to Evangeline by Longfellow?
This is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines
and hemlocks,
Bearded with moss, and in garments
green, indistinct
in the twilight,
Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and pro-
phetic,
Stand like harpers hoar, with
beards that rest on their
bosoms.
Loud from its rocky caverns, the
deep-voiced neigh-
boring ocean
Speaks, and in accents
disconsolate answers the wail
of the forest.
This is the forest primeval; but
where are the hearts
that beneath it
Leaped like the roe, when he hears
in the woodland
the voice of the huntsman?
Where is the thatch-roofed
village, the home of Aca-
dian farmers,
Men whose lives glided on like
rivers that water the
woodlands,
Darkened by shadows of earth, but
reflecting an image
of heaven?
Waste are
those pleasant farms, and the farmers for-
ever departed!
Scattered like dust and leaves,
when the mighty blasts
of October
Seize them, and whirl them aloft,
and sprinkle them
far o’er the ocean.
Naught but tradition remains of
the beautiful village
of Grand-Pré
Ye who believe in affection that
hopes, and endures
and is patient,
Ye who believe in the beauty and
strength of woman’s
devotion,
List to the mournful tradition
still sung by the pines
of the forest;
List to a Tale
of Love in Acadie, home of the happy.
We all memorized this song.
Protractor |
Many who read this will be shocked because Miss Riggio did not show her soft side very often. She was a stern disciplinarian, and a perfectionist! Everyone got a protractor in the beginning of the year, and we all used them to make sure that every word was properly spaced on the papers we turned in. If it wasn't perfect it was handed back to you and you promptly fixed it before turning it in again! She wanted us to do our very best!
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