This poem is on a scrap of paper in Annie Glen Broder’s papers at the Glenbow Archives in Calgary, AB, Canada. Accompanying it, in the author’s slightly florid hand, is the following note:
This is irregular verse — a product of the great storm when I was banished to a 1st floor suite in total darkness except for one small candle!
It is also typical of a year full of broken rhythms; so I beg you not to show it to anyone but keep it to your dear self.
My impromptu 2nd verse turned out to be true; for a most generous response has made it to the Bow Valley relief fund within a few days; & the weather here has been glorious ever since.
Your affectionate old friend,
I hope she will forgive me for sharing this with you all.
Who in a world war-threatened,
With dire suspicion rife,
Feel thro’ the nations’ raging
Of growth the stir and strength
Destruction and renewal,
Grappling in drastic strife,
Still hope for peace prevailing
And “more abundant life”.
In foothills and on prairies
Who hear the wild winds shriek
As if in ruthless anger
Fierce vengeance they would reek;
Know, with the sun still shining,
That hope and toil renewed
Will bring a richer bounty
For those who bravely seek.
May all the weary-hearted
Gladdened by Christmas cheer
With all the sad and sorrowing
Face the future without fear:
Like sturdy trees on rugged rocks
Refreshed by hidden springs,
Firm faith revives, new courage comes
With each succeeding year.
ANNIE GLEN BRODER