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

Page 11 text:

9 Upon her return after her cracked ankle had been set, Kathy hobbled up to the members of the team filled with congratulatory remarks. The girls looked at her thinking, What, no sarcasm? Even Kathy was shocked that she felt no twinge of jeaously. A month later, Kathy's short black hair blew in the wind as she watched the ski team warming- up on the course, high above her. They were well-trained, fit and fast. Kathy hoped with all her heart that they made a good showing against the neighbouring girls' school. She was not jealous of the team members, in fact, she was almost happy that one of them had not been disappointed as she had been. In her attempt to become a member of the ski-team she had failed, but her shell of bitterness had crumbled for ever and the new Kathy Stevens shone through. Switzerland had made this miraculous change in her. Somehow once you see the Alps or set foot on Swiss soil, this wonderful gift is bestowed upon you. It is impossible to define, let us say that it is all part of the mysterious power of the Alps. JOAN SELLERs-Grade X Light in The Dark For the third night in one week Eric Hoeshen and his family were huddled nervously in the corner of their one-roomed apartment They had fied from their home, three days before, in an attempt to evade the Communists. Their one constant prayer had been for God to deliver them from East Germany as a whole family into the zone of West Germany. Koko had convinced them that the plan was conceivable and that it had been risked before. He was a factory worker at the same place as Eric and was a good friend. On into the morning Eric related the plans for the coming evening so that there would be no doubt in the minds of any of them. Koko would meet them in the border field with an identifying signal from his small dim light and would get them safely into West Germany. The Hoeshen family would no longer be living in terror, for at seven-fourteen that night they would escape the security police who had been stalking beneath their one small window in this anti- Communist community at the little village. Eric kept thinking how good it would be to breathe fresh air again, but until the appointed time they must keep hidden, in case the police might find and seize them. Eric should never have de- nounced the Communist movement publicly- he had not realized that it would endanger his family to this degree. Once they were free of the Communist threat, however, he could speak freely. At the appointed time, Eric would lead his wife and three children to the back stairs of the apartment and into the field behind it. From there they would run in fear, never chancing to look behind them, to the Platz where they would have to remain hidden until Koko arrived. The children would find it hard, but they had gone over the plan so thoroughly that there was no evident reason for any difficulty to arise. A series of orders directed noisily from the police outside interrupted Eric-'s thoughts. They had changed their positions and were now patrolling the area behind the apartments, for such plans of escape as the one which was fast approaching. This move indeed altered Eric's plans, for it was six forty-Hve already and he had intended to leave at seven o'ciock. At first he was panic-stricken, but once he had collectefl his thoughts and had begun to stare out of the win- dow, he noticed that the police had left the front street unguarded, in their attempt to patrol the back areas. He realized that if they were going to escape by way of the front street, they would have to leave at once, for it would take longer to reach the Platz by this route. Hurriedly all five scrambled down the old Wooden staircase. When they reached the door- way, they rushed into the open street. Already accustomed to the darkness, they dashed to the end of the street, Marguerite leading. She turned left without hesitation and stumbled through the dark forest, with her family right behind her. They had escaped the police ofiicersg it was ten minutes after seven. They had only five minutes to reach the Platz! Panting and breathless they reached it. It was a quarter past seven. Eric looked expectantly at his watch, and as the minutes ticked by, he wondered if they had missed Koko by being a few minutes late! Where was the light? Oh God, where was the light? At that moment, Marguerite moved to untwist her legg a twig snapped! The officer's silhouette turned and he rushed in their direction. Huddling closer and closer for protection, Eric did not immediately hear the thud to the ground. Presently he looked up and saw the Communist policeman lying not more than ten feet in front of them. Standing over the unconscious body was Koko with his dim white light. The darkness which had prevailed for the past three nights was for a moment lJI'Ok6I1 by the luminous beam. Koko had kept his word, but, like Eric, he too had had to change his plans slightly. For Eric and his family there was a sign of relief, and scurrying behind Koko with his darkenel light they faced the pathway to the free world. ANN MAsoN-Grade XI

Page 10 text:

8 lv SIGN5 TS The Power of the Alps Kathy Stevens stepped off the funicular and looked around her. She shouldered her skis and started trudging up the long steep hill to the ski- slopes. I'll make people notice me, she thought bitterly. I'll show them how well I can learn to ski. The young girl was so en- veloped in her wrath that she failed to notice the lofty Alps towering above her. Once she gained the top of the hill, Kathy put on her skis and set off across the snow, the awkwardness of a beginner was written all over her. It doesn't matter what I look like now- just give me three weeks. The girl's bitterness was deep-rooted. She was sixteen and very attractive, but her per- sonality did not match her delightful exterior. All her life she had been receiving poor marks. In no sport did she excel, no matter how hard she worked at it. You could say that she was a jack of all trades but a master of none. Kathy had come to Switzerland with her parents for three weeks. She was determined to become an excellent skier and win a place on the school team. After struggling up a small hill, Kathy shot down it-skis apart, knees straight, arms flying. At the bottom she sat down in the deep powdered snow. Finally after one or two more or less successful runs, she joined a class. Tired but happy, Kathy returned to the hotel that evening. In spite of her weariness she was pleased with herself and the feeling of bitterness had disappeared. The feeling returned, however, when she walked in to dinner and found a long white envelope at each place. When she found is -- po-Q7-1 :Ui I 7 -4lb N 4, Eg Q we-eeees m 1 ,CQ Sf Sf 5 R is U12 c+4-v-Qc'-er sofas gg-gan mags! c-EEUQ2 cms-1 2: ssgeg magna, 3'QL35.r4 ' F' 232-as El. 4-pin'-s 32505 wr-1502.5 : c'+Q -xl mr, ... 03205525 .m, .... 55505. gears Q,E:Q-E'-vu flmomg 22 1 QDFFC tlzgnfg-tg rn... - :og 'ODUQIS' 'CU'-imfb 3:-Hg 0972.5 Q1-Tom Each day on the slopes of Chantarella above the town of St. Moritz, Kathy's bitterness melted. Standing for twenty minutes in line at the rope tow did not bother her, it was worth it for one run. As her skiing improved, she was much happier. A smile crossed her face more often, her eyes sparkled with excitement and glistened with joy. She could even laugh at her falls. Now, for the first time in her life, she was genuinely happy. The three weeks flew by. Kathy's skiing improved rapidly as did her disposition. She made friends with most of the people at the hotel with no difficulty. She even learned some French, a subject that she usually failed. It was with a heavy heart that she turned and looked at the hotel for the last time. Two weeks later, Kathy car1'ied her skis to the slope where the try-outs for the school team were being held. Her cheeks were burning with excitement as she adjusted her harnesses. She turned her eyes towards the difficult slalom course below her. She had watched the three girls who had skied before her as they moved swiftly and athletically between the poles. At the top Kathy froze, poised for flight. Then she started whipping like lightning between the poles, know- ing she was making good time . As she rounded the last pole, one edge caught in the hard-packed snow. She rolled the rest of the way down the hill. When she stopped, a sharp pain darted through her right ankle, causing her to wince.

Page 12 text:

10 I Laugh No More Gently the sun's lazy rays shine down upon the crystal white snow, melting it and giving birth to me. At first, I am but a small pool of sparkling water but gradually, day by day, I grow and become filled with a lust to wander. Then one day, my friend Gravity a1'rives, and with a firm push, sends me cascading down the mountain side. Head over heels I tumble down- wards, feeling freedom in my veins, pride in my heart. I am proud of my speed, proud of my freedom, and I laugh as I view the world. I laugh as I easily pass the slow-plodding sheep who waste away their lives eating, sleeping, and strolling in the sun. W'hat do they know of the joys of being a free-running stream? They are confined to their pastures, guided by their masters. Now here,', I cry, as I see a large train come thundering down its track, here is competition! Happily I flow faster and faster as the train looms nearer. But see how it runs from mel I shout defiantly and laughingly watch the mighty monster as it speeds away in another direction. It, too, is enslavedg de- pendent on its track, its fuel and man! Laughing I continue to plunge downwards, happy with my life, my youth, my freedom. But now my youth is past. Now I will join the mighty river. I watch it flow majestically by, and then quietly fall in at its side. I am older now, nobler and quieter, but still free and still laughing. I glide between neat fields care- fully planted by man. I laugh as I see the farmers protecting and watching over their lands as servants to a master. They are bound to their land, burdened by responsibility, a responsibility to their families, the markets, and the world. Fee how they wipe their hot brows and painfully straighten their backs. But I, I have no re- sponsibility. I am free, free from worries, free from any bonds, free to enjoy life I wish. f'How lucky I am, how unfortunate they, I think laughingly, and quietly How on. r I am gently guiding a small ship through the still water at the last edge of day when suddenly a sharp breeze rises above me. I immediately recognize this sign and am filled with excitement. Soon frightening peals of thunder burst upon the threatening sky and jagged lightning flashes tear the black clouds to shreds. The wind howls in tune withathe booming thunder. And in this stormy picture I am part of a huge wave, one among many, that rampage on top of the river. My peak is of white foam, my body inky black, and still I am laughing. I am proud to be able to toss men's ships like feathers in a breeze, proud of my power, proud of my free life. I experience the full sense of my freedom as I hurl myself high into the wind and fall back again on the raging river. I laugh as I think of the farmer tied to his land, the train to its track, the sheep to their pasture. Laughingly I declare, I am free! But now the storm is ended and I reach the ocean. To me this is the crowning glory. To be a part of that great expanse of water, that huge sea of liquid, is something I have long dreamed of. Now I can be free for ever. Quietly, respect- fully, I fiow into the ocean. Suddenly I am pushed violently from the left, the right, from all sides. Annoyed, I fight my way far from shore, but soon my joy begins to fade. There is nothing to see but water and the blazing sun above. There is nothing to do but to be free. I have been here one year, I have seen nothing new, done nothing different. I wander from place to place in this vast ocean like a man lost in a wilderness. I am' free, but I am tired of being free. How much better to be tied down, to have work to do, to have a course to follow, to have responsibility. I laugh no more. CAROL SWINDELL-Grade X The Storm I awoke early that summer morning. The sun, just rising, had outlined, delicately in gold, the whitewashed cottage in the valley below. The morning-glories around the doorway joyously disclosed their baby-blue faces to the silent world, and the dew drops on the lush green grass gave the dawn a silver hue. I felt as a miser might, surveying his precious gold and silver, but, in reality, there was no likeness between nature's soft, colourful glow of beauty and the harsh, glistening splendours of man's riches. To the people of this quiet valley, money was nothing and nature was all. As Apollo continued to drive his glorious chariot across the clear turquoise sky, the house- hold in the whitewashed cottage began to stir. Out in the barn, tall rugged farmer McKay and old Alec checked the horses, while Cary, the maid, inilked the cows. Marcella helped her mother prepare the porridge in the kitchen. Her bright blue eyes were surrounded by long dark lashes while her golden hair, tied loosely at the nape of her neck with a blue ribbon, fell gracefully down to her waist, each wavy strand reminding one of a tiny stream as it wends its way through the countryside. Her healthiness was revealed by her pink cheeks, while her tiny tilted nose gave her a saucy air. No children of her age lived near by, and so Marcella's constant and beloved companion was her collie, Sunny-Jim. Soon she appeared and