A Romantic Poem

It’s All Your Fault

©2015 Mollie Pearce McKibbon

My eye is black because of you;

You don’t know what you put me through.

My nose is swollen, a tooth is loose,

I think it’s time we called a truce.

I know just how this war began;


I had to prove I was a man.

But Sam is big and Sam is tough

And I think I have done enough

Damage to his chin and cheek.

Perhaps I’ll get a chance to speak

And say,”Let’s just forget this fight,

Or we’ll be wearing ice all night. “


It’s all your fault we’ve had this spat.

Sam used to be my friend in fact

Until you flashed your bright blue eyes

And tossed your curls at all the guys.

I’ve never felt this way before

Until you walked in through the door.

It’s all your fault; you are to blame,

Grade six will never be the same!

All Dressed-up

All Dressed-up

©2011 by Mollie Pearce McKibbon

I took time at dressing.

My clothes were all brand new

And I took extra time

To shine my high-heeled shoes.

With hair carefully coiffed

And my eyelashes a-curl,

I thought, there’ll be no doubt

That I’m a modern girl.


My pink nail polish matched

The latest springtime theme.

My lipstick was shiny

And my eye shadow a-sheen.

I’d sprayed and I’d powdered

From my head to my feet.

In my mind was no doubt-

The picture was complete.




Assured by my mirror


Upon the bedroom wall,

I knew I was ready

For every protocol.


Wearing my sweetest smile,

I stepped out my front door

To a loud clap of thunder

And an instant rain downpour!

Adeline’s War of 1812 Journal: April 1815

Adeline’s War of 1812 Journal: April 1815

©2012 Mollie Pearce McKibbon




Saturday, April 16, 1815

Dear Janetta,

Charlie, Andrew and I are now moved into our dear little home.  I have been much occupied with making it cosy and safe for my little ones.  Charlie is content to sit and play with the blocks Henry made for him and Andrew, but Andrew is quickly out of my sight if I don’t watch him.  He is an expert at hiding from me when he wants to and I’m constantly pulling him away from the hearth or the water bucket. 

Oh, goodness, we have company! I shall have to finish writing this later.


It is now evening and my happy mood of the morning is destroyed.  Robert came riding in at a great hurry and came straight to the cabin.  I thought it odd, as he was alone and did not speak to Father first, as he usually does.  When I opened the door, Robert’s appearance shocked me.  He almost sagged in relief when he saw me standing there in the doorway.

“Adeline, thank God you are safe! I got here as soon as possible when I heard the news.”  Robert strode in and swung Charlie up into his arms, scattering the blocks.  “Where is my Andrew,” he asked and a little tousled head popped out behind a bedpost. 

“Robert, what is wrong?” I managed to say. “You are frightening me.”

Robert put Charlie down and took both my hands in his.  He was trembling.

“Adeline, Bourke has escaped from custody. He is said to have sworn an oath to “get yer good”.   

I almost fell on to the chair by the hearth.

Was I never going to see the last of this devil? 

“But how?  I don’t understand.  The army was going to take him to Brockville for the trial.”  I thought I might vomit.

Charlie and Andrew began to cry.  Robert gathered them to himself and began soothing them.  When they quieted he said,  “It was the O’Meara brothers, they attacked the two soldiers escorting him, wounded one and released Bourke.”

“He’s escaped?”  My head was reeling and then Robert did an astonishing thing.  He got down on one knee and said, “Marry me, Adeline, and I will keep you safe.  Your father gave me permission to ask you months ago, but I wanted to give you time…”

I began to sob and immediately, Robert let go of my hands and got to his feet.  His face reddened and he muttered, “ I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have …of course, you aren’t prepared for this.  I just want to protect you and your boys, Adeline.  Forgive me.    I ‘ve spoken to soon.”

With that he rushed out of the cabin and rode away and my babies burst into wails.  Now I am most distraught, for Robert, for myself and for my fatherless boys. 

Oh, Janetta, what should I do?


Adeline’s War of 1812 Journal – February and March 1815

Adeline’s War of 1812 Journal

©2012 Mollie Pearce McKibbon

A fictional account of a young woman’s experiences living in Upper Canada during the years of the war 1812 – 1815.

antique settle and chairs

Antique Settle or Settee

Sunday, February 12, 1815  

Dearest Janetta,

It has been so long since I have received a letter from you.  I wonder how you are faring with your little family.  My two boys are growing stronger every day.  Charlie is beginning to creep around after Andrew.  It is amusing to watch them chatter away in their own little baby language.  Somehow they seem to know what they are each saying.  Vickie is a great playmate for them.  She is a very welcome visitor when Elizabeth and William stop by which they do every Sunday as  Father and Mother enjoy having their grandchildren all together. 

Capt. Houghton is a much less welcome visitor.  Evidently, he has taken to Evvy and has spoken to Father about officially courting her now that she has turned seventeen.  Father said that he would take his request in consideration, but he is reluctant, especially knowing the poor opinion that Charles’ father seems to have of our family.  Evvy is curious, but wary.  She wonders, as I do, just what truly motivated Capt. Houghton’s request. 

Meanwhile, poor Hector is besotted with Evvy and continues to drag our kind neighbour, Robert along with him whenever he visits.  Robert spends the visits either conversing with Father and Henry, or amusing Charlie and Andrew.  I do think he is rather fond of my boys and I must say it warms my heart to see them being cuddled by a good friend.  Robert has been so helpful and solicitous. 

Sadly, we do not know the fate of little Adam’s father, Arthur, Robert’s younger brother, who went with the army into America to fight. 



Monday, February 20, 1815

Dear Janetta,

I haven’t had an opportunity to add to my journal of late, because of all of the visitors we have had.  Now that my sister is seventeen, all the eligible men have been paying her court.  I really am not surprised as my sister is quite a lovely person, inside and out.  She is a wonderful prospect for a bride anywhere, here or over in England, being so well schooled in the domestic arts. She is an accomplished cook , an excellent seamstress and very pretty with her silky blond curls and sparking blue eyes.  She can sing like a lark and carry on a knowledgeable conversation,  although she admits that she would not even be a consideration for such a class-minded  family as the Houghtons were she still in our dear old land.  However, neither would I.  No doubt, Charles and I would never have met.

Here marriage arrangements are not based so much on class as on propinquity. Neighbours tend to marry neighbours, although, it might be argued that the attainment of property might yet be a factor.  Thankfully, our parents are more concerned with the heart than the purse or land.

Mother and Father have been gently nudging me towards considering a prospective father for Charlie and Andrew, but until I am sure that Bourke is truly tried and convicted I cannot possibly entertain thoughts about such a serious matter.  I am much relieved that no one has yet shown an inclination to court me.

With fondness,

Your Adeline.

Sunday, March 5, 1815,


Oh, how you would have smiled at the goings-on today!  Two of my sister’s wooers arrived on our doorstep together.  Hector Hamish Hamilton, he of the red mustache, and Captain Everett Houghton of the Houghtons of Buckinghamshire both came courting on the same Sunday.  Both men bore the same news – that officially the war between our territories and the Americas is over for which we are all most grateful.  The American government ratified the Treaty of Ghent on February 14th and all fighting has ceased. 

Soldiers have been returning to Fort Wellington in dribs and drabs.  Still, we have no news of Robert’s brother, Arthur.  He was in the thick of the Battle of New Orleans and disappeared just before it was finished.  From all accounts, according to Hector, the fighting was fierce.  It was hard to get all the pertinent details as Hector and Everett both tried to interject them into each other’s narration.  I find it hard to concentrate when Hector is talking because his hands wave so wildly and his mustache moves up and down.  I am too enthralled with wondering which will happen first – his knocking over a cup or hitting someone with his arm. 

Charles’ brother reminded me that his sister will be leaving England soon on a voyage to meet her nephews and , in his words, “take them to meet their Houghton grandpapa”.  I suppose my visage must have shown my displeasure, because Father immediately said, “It is good of your sister to come, but of course my grandsons are much too young to travel and my daughter is not going to leave the comfort of her family so soon after becoming a widow.”  Whereupon, Robert, bless him, changed the subject.

If you could have but seen Hector and Capt. Houghton falling all over themselves to sit near dear Evvy.  It was very comical. Finally, Father invited the three men out to look at a new implement he has purchased from the ironmonger in Johnstown and Evvy breathed a sigh of relief.  Having so many people crowded into our small “parlour” is a challenge to comfort. Thank goodness for the two fine maple settles Father and William had made.  Mother and I were hard pressed to keep everyone supplied with tea and scones.  Eventually the three visitors left and we were able to set the table for our supper.



Adeline’s War of 1812 Journal – January 1815

Adeline’s War of 1812 Journal

A Fictional Account ©2012 Mollie Pearce McKibbon  silohuette of Adeline

The Story thus far:

Adeline Price, daughter of James and Martha Price, and her siblings, William, Eveline and Henry, settled on land bequeathed to them by a relative who fought on the side of the British during the American Revolution.  Their land lay north of Johnstown and Prescott in what is now Edwardsburg township.  Adeline’s older brother, and her father became involved in the militia during the outbreak of the War of 1812.  Adeline was captured by an American spy, named Bourke, and taken to Ogdensburg, where she managed to escape after wounding him.  A neighbour Robert Randall and Sgt. Charles Houghton, a British soldier brought her to safety.  Adeline married Sgt. Houghton, who was mysteriously murdered after the Battle of Crysler’s Farm.  After being burned out of her home, Adeline and her twin sons are living with her parents at their farm, Thistledown, but her English father-in-law wants to raise her sons in England and has told his other son, Lt. Houghton, to persuade her.

Thistledown Farm

Sunday, January 15, 1815

Dear Janetta,

We have all been ill with sniffles and the babies have been quite miserable, poor wee ones but thankfully, they seem to be getting better.  Mother thinks we all need a good tonic and she is hoping that the Fort physician will be able to give Father something we can add to our porridge or take with our tea. I prefer to ask Robert’s mother as her herbal remedies are more effective in my opinion. 

Father and Henry are cleaning out the old log cabin that our family lived in before this stone house was built.  I plan to move into it with my boys in the spring.  Father wants to patch up the gaps in the chinking before we live there. My babies are getting bigger and will soon be crawling around, so we need more space.  As well, although no one has made a complaint, I know the babes must wake everyone up with their crying at night.  It will be pleasant to set our own schedule and be cosy in a home of our own. 

The old cabin has been used to store implements and seed, so Father plans to build a lean-to on the barn for those things.  I will be glad to be able to clean the mouse droppings and cobwebs out of there.  It has a very smooth wooden floor and a flat stone hearth.  Of course, I shall need a bed and the boys will need beds too.  Henry has plans to make some beds with sides on them to prevent them from falling out.  Henry dotes on his little nephews and is eager to make them some wooden blocks when they are old enough to play with them.  Robert made them each a most ingenious rattle which he filled with tiny pebbles but I have to watch that they don’t accidentally hit each other with them.  Both babes are sitting now and they gurgle and giggle together happily most of the day when they aren’t napping. 

         Contented Mother,


Saturday, January 28,1815

Dear Janetta,

I hardly find a moment to write in my journal these days.  My two lads are growing quickly and now Andrew is trying to take a step holding onto the furniture. Charlie, on the other hand, seems to be content to creep on his knees.  He rocks back and forth, appears almost to fall forward on his nose and then crawls forward.  Watching my sons and keeping them out of imminent danger of being tread upon takes up a great deal of my time, but it is very amusing indeed. 

The rest of my hours are spent mending or making little outfits for the boys to wear, knitting mittens and hats, and working on my father’s and William’s bookkeeping.  They are both paying me a stipend for the task and so I want to do my very best to keep them up to date.

Robert has also asked me to help him with his father’s accounts also, now that he and his father are doing the hauling business together as the war is all but officially over.  We are simply awaiting the ratification by the American government of the treaty signed in Europe. They seem to be dragging their heels.

Sadly, we have heard nothing from Arthur Randall who is still engaged in combat with the Americans.  His son, Adam, is back home with his grandparents now that he is weaned to a cup.

It was necessary to wean him early as his wet nurse is expecting another child and has her hands full with three small children of her late sister’s family.   

Our family had one unfortunate and annoying visit from Charles’ brother, Lt. Houghton.  He stopped by with Robert, Thursday last, just as I was putting the boys down for their afternoon nap.  Robert looked very uncomfortable.  It seems that when Lt. Houghton learned that he delivered our mail and parcels, he “suggested” that he should accompany him “in order to learn more about the area”. 

Naturally, Mother welcomed him politely and offered him some warming beverage and a slice of her wonderful bread hot from the hearth.  He accepted the offer and sat down to talk with Father and Robert.  Father was only hospitable.

We all know the real motive for the visit was to see in what circumstances his nephews are living.  I expect he shall report his impressions of our modest home back to his father.  I ignored him by keeping busy with the children upstairs.  Mother made my excuses and eventually he and Robert left to continue Robert’s postal rounds.  I do wish he would just go back to Mother England and forget we exist!

Brit Army officers

A Hymn of Thanksgiving

I wrote this hymn a number of years ago and have now revised it.

Shout Joyfully Unto the Lord

©2006 Mollie Pearce McKibbon

(based on Psalm 98)


Shout Joyfully unto the Lord,

Break forth in song and praise.

The world and all who dwell in it

Shall celebrate his ways.

For the Lord of mercy and of love

Still calls to you and me

To come within his warm embrace

And evermore be free.


Our Shield and our Salvation,

Our Lantern and our Bread;

The Lord provides us with our needs

And with his Word we’re fed.

There is no place that we can stray

Beyond our Father’s reach,

And though we stumble into hell,

Its ramparts He will breach.


The Lord above is Lord always

And evermore shall be.

His right hand and his holy arm

Have gained the victory.

Sing Hallelujah on the harp,

Sound the trumpet and the horn,

For God is God all powerful;

In Him we are reborn.


Give thanks, give thanks to God always!

What else have we to give?

Our hearts are made for praising Him

And in his Son we live.

For God has given all for us

Through Christ his only son,

The First Fruit of his harvest yield;

Through faith in him we we’re one.

Grace for A 50th Anniversary Dinner

Here is the  grace I was asked to write for the occasion the 50th wedding anniversary of my aunt and uncle.  It was also used for grace at a friend’s wedding celebration.

50th Anniversary Grace

©1989 Mollie Pearce McKibbon

Dearest Lord, God above,

Who gave us hearts and taught us love,

Bless all who gather here today

To celebrate from far away.

Family and friends, we all rejoice.

Our spirits and hearts are all one voice.

Our feast is prepared, our table spread.

We thank You for our daily bread.

We humbly ask your presence, Lord.

Nourish us with your Holy Word.

We ask this here in Jesus name

As he once in Cana did the same.



Pansies This Time

I belong to a website called “Paint My Photo” where very generous photographers provide examples of their work for others to use for drawing or painting.  Here is an oil pastel I did today from a gorgeous photo by S. Belle-Isle.

Pansy Bed by Mollie Pearce McKibbon
Pansy Bed by Mollie Pearce McKibbon

I wish I could get the rich deep purples of the pansies.  God  is the best artist.