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

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SCHOOL ORGANISTS A Dream Come True Ever since I have been in Grade One at Balmoral I-lall, I have always admired our School organists and yearned to be one of them. My enthusiasm increased wheif the new organ was purchased in 1959 and I bought my keys to assist in paying for it. Finally after ten years of impatient wait- ing, I had an audition. When I qualified, I started a number of Saturday morning prac- tice sessions and was soon assigned a morn- ing to play for Prayers. It was with con-- siderable trepidation that I took my position at the organ, but once I began to play, it was a thrill to hear the whole school singing and following my lead, and to know that I was filling a vital part in our morning ser- vice of worship. The satisfaction which this gave me more than compensated for the many hours of piano practice necessary be- fore I could touch the organ. VICKI GRIFFITHS-FOI'm IV The Moderns Go To School On Wednesday, lanuary 27, the A'Moderns Go To School from the Mani- toba Theatre Centre visited Balmoral Hall. They presented a programme consisting of two poems from the Grade Ten and Eleven Syllabus, a play, The Marriage Proposal by Anton Chekhov, and HMrs. Ioseph Poi'- ter, a reading from Dickens. The poems, The Wind our Enemy, by Anne Marriott, and The Ballad of Dick Turpin by A. Noyes were accompanied by a guitarist, which produced a very dra- matic effect and aided by presentation, The play concerns a man who went to propose to a girl and ended by arguing with her: it was very amusing. The programme ended with a poem. Daniel' by V. Lindsay, sung as a folk song. The actors game a magnificent per- formance, which brought us the enjoyment of modern poetry and theatre. PATRICIA JOHNSTON The Christmas Carol Service The stage curtain were drawn: the organ silent: the guests quietly seated. Into this reverent atmosphere came both light and music as the choir and school proceeded up the aisle, To the familiar strains of Once in Royal Davids City the school entered the hall, the congregation rose. and the Carol Service began. Following the opening prayer, the School Choir began the recital of carols with Fan- faref' Beautifully contrasted to the exhilar- ating Gloria'sl were the soft voices of Grades II and III singing, VV'hence, O Shepherd Maide? The lunior Choir then sang the French carol, Hleanette, Isabelleff and Grades IV, V, VI, HCarol of the Birds. The recital was ended with two carols sung by the School Choir. Then all eyes focussed on the stage as the curtains slowly opened to reveal the first picure of the Navity. As lunior and Senior students read the appropriate passages from the Bible, the figures on stage unfolded the story of the Birth of Christ, The scenes were interspersed and accompanied with carols. and the service concluded with the reces- sional, The first Nowellf' ROBERTA KIPP

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14 Before he became a senator and went to La Paz he used to laugh and joke with us but now he holds us in contempt, as if we were mere animals. A'He used to be proud he was a peasant but now he seems to be ashamed of it. His father is different. Remember when he arrived here from the city all dressed in black? It was rumoured his wife had died. The first couple of weeks it seemed as if he were running away from something. He never told anyone of his previous life. as if the very thought of it was painful. I don't think he's even told his son. It must have been a terrible tragedy. But what could it have been? He is so kind and understanding. I remember . . The conversation was carried by the wind across the fields, the ending to remain a secret- The cool evening breeze from the Andes came through the window and eased the deep furrows in the man's forehead. He was staring at the black fringe of clouds grow- ing quickly on the horizon. Gradually each star disappeared behind ominous clouds. just as each of his achievements had been over-shadowed. So the first star was hidden by the falling veil, he remembered his Peace Corps teacher. A second was hidden, and he thought of the correspondence courses, then examinations, his trip to La Paz, his election as senator: then last of all his ap- pointment as ambassador to the United Na- tions. All that was left was the moon. The people in La Paz accepted me into their social groups, but not without enquir- ing glances. and whispering rumours. The newsmen often asked me about my family and childhood. What was I to tell them? I would be in a gutter with my wild ain- bitions in no time if I were to say I was a peasant! A long silence followed - the lull before the storm, then like a thunder clap it came. Why can't one's actions speak for themselves? . . . All my work, my suc- cess, and I am still just a peasant! But, how could I tell the President this to explain my resignation? In frustration his hand sought something, anything to give vent to his temper. He grasped a vase. The china shattered on the hard dirt floor into as many pieces as the raindrops which were now falling. Among the fragments lay a piece of fine paper. A diploma - 'Cum Lauda! . . - His father was a doctor! . . . The ambassador Walked slowly into the Presidents office in La Paz, never lifting his blood-shot eyes from the floor until he reached the desk. When he did raise his eyes he saw a small man, with twinkling eyes, playing with his resignation. To his amazement the President jokingly said, I wondered when you would learn of your father's fame. You know, he saved my life in the war. Resignation? Do you think I would let a promising young politician fade into obscurity, as his father did because of that 'tupid doubt concerning- his wife's death? You have to go to the United Nations and ask for help to improve the peasants' living 'onditionsf' And with ia rip his resignation was in the wastepaper basket. The storm had passed, and the rain had cleansed, and a new man was created. CATHERINE CAMPBELL-FOI'm III On a Luke Along the shore the golden sun is dancing Clearly shining: clearly shining. Boats in glowing foam of white are passing. Fastly moving: fastly moving. What happens to these visions so enchan- ting, That travel fast: that travel fast? Do they still go on in beauty never-ending. Their difference vastg difference vast? Let us gaze at beauty in glad adoration, Minds having cleared: minds having cleared. In appreciation seeing the glamour Of scenes God has painted: scenes God has painted. MARGARET KENDALL - FOI'l'!l III No Fuss? Bare feet sound on the basement stair: Protesting squeals rend the air: A muffled voice is heard to declare, A'This time I'll do it without any fuss! Soapsuds flying! Yelps and crying! Water splashing! Teeth are gnashing! Puddles streaming Everywhere. Yet I had said, quite unaware, This time I'll do it without any fuss! Though now the room is a sight to be seen, Our little dog, Kerry, is spanking clean: And I'm forgiven and back in his grace As he slaps his tongue all over my face. JANE FERGUSON-Form III

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l6 A Most Remarkable Women The day dawned sunny and hot. Already some of the guests were up from their sticky beds and were strolling to the cantina for breakfast as I gazed out of the window. My father, who owned the Circle Z Dude Ranch was hurrying down the dusty mud road to the large green and white stable. Suddenly I heard 3 loud honking, and ran out into the yard. Already a crowd had gathered to watch the arrival of a black. shiny Rolls-Royce. The car stopped and out squeezed a short, immense creature with a huge head laid on heavy, fat shoulders. She had a large black mark at the tip of her nostrils and ugly red scars covering her fat face- She wore a bright, blonde, fuzzy wig with a diamond on the top. She was squeez- ed into a pair of gigantic lemon yellow slacks and a green and red checked shirt. She also had an exotic jade necklace around her thick, lumpy neck. Well, don't just stand there gaping, you rude people! Magoo! Carry my bags to my room! shrieked this weird woman. A sigh and a sad, Yes, ma'am, was heard, and out of the car popped a tiny, dark, wizened man with worried black eyes. I-Ie wore dusty, old black riding clothes, and a broad-brimmed riding hat was pulled over long, black, touselled hair. He picked up her monstrous trunk, securely locked with a giant padlock, and trailed bqwlegged be- frnd her, while she waddled ahead of me. How many horses are there at this little iich? If you call it a ranch! she suddenly exclaimed and I noticed she stressed the word if, One hundred and twenty-five, I re- plied proudly. A'Is that all? In Europe I visited at least ten estates with over four hundred horses! That must have been fun, I said po- litely. Not really, she retorted. By now we had reached the cottage where she would be staying. Are you suggesting that I live there?' she rudely asked. I must admit it was rather small, but no smaller than any of the other cottages. Why, uh . . , no, you can sleep in my room. I replied on a sudden impulse as I knew Dad would be angry if we lost a guest- HI? Sleep in a child's room? In Europe I lived in a palace! By now I felt like telling this rude. haughty woman to go back to Europe, but I held my tongue and politely replied. 'Tm sorry, ma'am, but all our other rooms are rented. All right, if this is the best you have. she interrupted. Magoo pulled her heavy trunk into her cottage and as I left I heard him ask, '!Where shall I sleep, Mrs. Leip- sig? HSleep in the barn for all I care, Magoo! she replied. The woman appeared ten minutes later and shouted to Dad, When is luncheon served? I'm hungry! Dad said, We have just finished break- fast Mrs .... uh . . . Smithl she snapped. In Europe when I desired food, I received it, and I expect it here too, Mr. I-Iornshawln The names Hamshaw, ma'am, Dad replied politely. What of it? Mrs. Smith retorted. Finally it was time for dinner. Dad was explaining to some of the dudes why horses' tails were clipped and how it was done, when suddenly Mrs. Smith interrupted with, You'reg wrong! What do you know about it? After dinner it was even worse! She sat with us breaking into the guests' conversa- tions to boast that she had played poker in Las Vegas and seen horse races in Europe- Why was this woman acting so queerly and being so unsociable? Why did Magoo call her Mrs. Leipsig and she call herself Mrs. Smith? I wondered. For two weeks she lived here spoiling plans, ruining stories and aggravating everybody. One day after dinner we were discussing riding in foreign countries. Dad said he pre- ferred Western riding in the States to Eng- lish riding in Europe as he thought it was much more fun. Most of the guests agreed but suddenly in an angry hiss, Mrs. Smith screeches, Mr. I-Iornshaw, I have never been in such a rude crowd of people in all my born days! I am leaving with Mr. Magoo tomorrow and I . . . I hope your barn burns down and all your horses are killed! She hurried off, turning once to give us a dreadful look. Please, sir, a little voice was heard. Don't be angry with her. It was Magoo. 'Susie was one of the most famous riders in Austria, thirty-two years ago. Susie? Dad questioned.