Here Comes the Sun, It's Alright (storey 32 of 40)
Coppermine, N.W.T. Canada
Nonfiction, History, Polar Regions, Americas, Canada
| Author: | Dawn Kostelnik | ISBN: | 9781927812358 |
| Publisher: | Kobo | Publication: | May 8, 2013 |
| Imprint: | Language: | English |
| Author: | Dawn Kostelnik |
| ISBN: | 9781927812358 |
| Publisher: | Kobo |
| Publication: | May 8, 2013 |
| Imprint: | |
| Language: | English |
Hi Ho, Hi Ho it’s off to school we go! Grace’s Uncle Allen shows up at our house with kids in tow. He has devised a system that enables all of the school kids who live by the Arctic Ocean to get to their classes safely and on time!
Our hours of operation have changed. In an experiment, the teachers have decided that maybe school should run from noon to five P.M. In the shortest of days during a Polar Night, it is dusky at noon. We lose any sunrise from mid December until the beginning of January. When the sun returns it gallops across the land trying to make up for lost time. Deep darkness with no sun and a whiteout riding the crest of the black mornings makes navigating a path to school dangerous.
Allen brings a rope with him that he has tied knots on. Each kid is to hold the rope at a knot; this keeps little hands from slipping. Either Grace or myself is the anchor. With all of the kids hanging on to the rope we put our heads down and start the journey. Blasting crystalized snow stings eyes and exposed skin. Little feet stumble and small kids fall.
Hi Ho, Hi Ho it’s off to school we go! Grace’s Uncle Allen shows up at our house with kids in tow. He has devised a system that enables all of the school kids who live by the Arctic Ocean to get to their classes safely and on time!
Our hours of operation have changed. In an experiment, the teachers have decided that maybe school should run from noon to five P.M. In the shortest of days during a Polar Night, it is dusky at noon. We lose any sunrise from mid December until the beginning of January. When the sun returns it gallops across the land trying to make up for lost time. Deep darkness with no sun and a whiteout riding the crest of the black mornings makes navigating a path to school dangerous.
Allen brings a rope with him that he has tied knots on. Each kid is to hold the rope at a knot; this keeps little hands from slipping. Either Grace or myself is the anchor. With all of the kids hanging on to the rope we put our heads down and start the journey. Blasting crystalized snow stings eyes and exposed skin. Little feet stumble and small kids fall.
