Balmoral Hall School - Optima Anni Yearbook (Winnipeg, Manitoba Canada)

Page 10 text:

8 BACK ROW-Joanne, Blight, Betty McRae, Anthea Dykes, Alyson Thomas, Elsie Albertsen. I FRONT ROW-Beryl Hoare, Sports Captain, Lyn Stephen, Head Girl, Nancy White, 'School Captain. Our Prefects From Tour Daughter and Balmoral Hallug an appreciation recently presented by members of the board, the mothers' auxiliary and the alurnnae. SEEKING BETTER THINGS AT BALMORAL HALL If education is to set a pattern for the true ends of living, then the moulding of character and the training of the mind must go hand in hand. With this in mind, Balmoral Hall in its daily routine encourages the development of: LOYALTY f RESPONSIBILITY AND LEADERSHIP. LOYALTY is developed through the House System. Each child, from Grade Ill level, is a member of one of the four Houses. The school uniform, the school motto, Seeking Better Things , and friendships formed, are influences creating bonds of loyalty to the school. Through competif tion in all phases of school life, the child is made aware at an early age, that cofoperation and loyalty are basic ideas of the civilized world. A sense of RESPONSIBILITY AND LEADERSHIP and the capacity to distinguish between right and wrong are qualities which the independent school em' phasizes. From the Head Girl, the School Captain, the prefects, and down to the youngest class presif dent, this feeling of responsibility to a position is important. In the senior school, students are given opportunities to plan and to make decisions in various ways4on the magazine staff, on the library committee, as team captains, as House executives, and in many other phases of School life-which will enable them in future years to be good citizens.

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Balmoral Hall, June, 1957. My dear Girls: When you read this the Summer holidays will be just around the corner and you will be thinking of the freedom that is soon to be yours. Even so the end of the school year is often teeming with memories of school days to which you cling-your first gymnastic demonstration, or perhaps your last - dancing classes - House meetings - Common Room fun-sunftanning on the river bank Afriends from whom you will soon be separated. Whatever your memories may be I hope that they will include the words of your School Motto - Meliora Petensu - and the significance of your School crest. Little has been said this past year about our crest and it occurred to me when some of you who are comparatively new, were receiving School pins, and School rings, that you may not know or understand its meaning. I shall quote from an editorial in one of our earlier magazines: In the crest, wisdom is suggested by the four white pillars - and here at Balmoral Hall are opportunities for infinite wisdom and great understanding. The wavy lines at the base of the crest represent the tranquil flow of the storied Assiniboine on whose banks we live and in whose beauty we find peace. The eagle, flying high on the crest, symbol of fortitude and power, will always inspire us to aim high, challenge us to be firm in our convictions, and to be satisfied only as we move ever onward and upward Seeking Better Things. A crest so fraught with meaning, be it on your tunic, on your pin or on your ring, should be worn with pride and a sense of responsibility. How do you wear yours? Will you remember that a crest is a symbol and a symbol is a sign? Our School crest is but the first of these signs which you will discover in life. How you observe such signs will indicate to others as well as to yourself just what kind of a person you are. May Balmoral Hall always be proud of her girls. Affectionately yours, 3 Biff'

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ii Pr at r ig . xg Q gg S '- M-1. The Stgrm water is up to the doorstep now. It pauses The day dawned brightly. The peaceful blue sky accentuated the fresh green grass. The fragrant flowers raised their radiant faces to the sun. The trees, in their best attire, swayed gracefully in the gentle breeze, that played merrily over the meadow. The brook gurgled at some hidden secret, and the birds sang from pure joy in life. It was a glorious summer morning. Nothing could spoil a day such as this. By mid afternoon the farmer noticed a slight darkening of the sky but continued his work. Soon he noticed another change. The breezes had stopped their frolicking. The birds had ceased their noisy chatter. The brook gurgled more softly now. Silence reigned. Everything waited in expectation. Suddenly it came! The sky grew black. The wind arose. It shrieked with anger as it tossed the tree branches to and fro. The farmer hurriedly retraced his steps. He hustled the livestock into the barn. Frantically he cornered the last chicken. Into the barn with it. Now back to the cottage to quiet his slightly hysterical wife. Fighting his way back to the house, he stumbled on the gate which had blown down. He struggled to his feet and moved forward. Now the black sky was torn by streaks of white light. Torrents of rain water dashed down the gullies in their mad scramble to reach the sea. The farmer is at his doorstep, is over it. Now the struggle to shut the door. The bolt, the bolt! There, they are safe. Crash! Dashing to the window, they gaze with panicfstricken eyes at the world outside. A tree had crashed against the house. The relentless wind is knifing through the cracks in the wall. Stuff them, quickly. Here's a blanket to serve the purpose. There. Outside the storm rages. The rain plummets down as if to cut great holes in the earth. They can see that the oncefgurgling brook is now a ferocious torrent, bent on destruction. A tree falls from the bank and is caught in the clutches of this terrorffilled deep. On, on it goes, bobbing up and down. The rain continues. The black sky bellows with rage as a white knife cuts 'its sides: The momentarily as if in wonder about what lies beyond, then surges ahead. The farmer and his wife have tried to keep back the raging torrent, but to no avail. The children whimper in fear. Outside, the cry of dying animals mingles with the howl of the wind. The gallant horses fight to rise to the surface of the turbulent waters, but are mercilessly dragged under. A branch lashes the window as if trying to reach safety, but is dragged back by the fierce clutch of the river. What is this? The barn is shaking. It collapses, and is sucked under by the mighty river. The trembling structure is carried down stream, the roof alone remaining above the water, a chicken clinging desperately to it. The gale loses its force and becomes gentle once more. The rain ceases. The roaring giant of a river becomes calm, and mirrors an already,clearf ing sky. The sun peeks cautiously around a cloud and, 'finding everything still below, comes :forth in all his splendour. The farmer, his wife, and his children survey the ruin of what, less than twelve hours before, had been a beautiful world. The birds again begin to twitter. The remaining trees are lacking branches and leaves. The beaten farmer looks dismally at his land, then brightensf He still has his family, and before long he knows that they will be as happy as before. A little paint here, some seed planting there, some . . . ' GAYLE MORRIS, Grade XI Old Clothes Finally the last clasp was unfastened. Trying not to breathe the thick dust awhichlhlledtthe air, she reluctantly pushed back the lid of the battered trunk and peered inside. How common -- everyf one from the Bobbsey Twins to Nancy Drew had at one time or another stolen up a creaking staircase to a dingy attic, where they discovered ancient relics of former glorious days, reeking with mystery and romance. Determined not to become involved in such nonsense, she ignored all odours, save that of moth balls, and probed into the depths of the trunk with an unwilling hand.