Elmwood School - Samara Yearbook (Ottawa, Ontario Canada)

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28 SAMARA said but you had patience to speak to me slowly. During the week-end at Mont Tremblant I discovered and enjoyed mountain life, the pleasures of skiing, but chiefly the happiness to know you better. Before I finish, let me thank you very much, Mrs. Graham, teachers and all the girls for your charming welcome. I am very happy to hve with you in your beautiful country. Colette Muuls, VI M Description Standing on the crest of the hill and look- ing at the surrounding country, I realized for the first time how extremely beautiful our ranch really was. The neat white-washed log buildings with their red roofs and large cor- rals lay in a valley bordered by precipitous bush-clad hills. Now, as I looked up the twi- light-covered valley towards the west, I saw the multi-coloured rays of the sunset spread across the horizon. Beyond the ranch, several palomino horses outhned against the darkness of the trees, looked strangely ghostlike as they moved along toward the creek where they watered each evening. Turning once more, I watched a full red moon make its way over the hills up into the sky. Suddenly, a mourn- ful howl rent the air, and a lone coyote ap- peared silhouetted against the moon. Night had come once more in the west. Frances Wood, V A Something To Remember It was a cool frosty October evening and I was walking aimlessly down a narrow coun- try path. Where it led I knew not and cared not so long as I could outwalk my problems on it. I was meandering along when suddenly in front of me there was the quaintest church I have ever seen. It seemed almost like a shrine alone there in the wilderness. As I walked towards it, I noticed that in spite of its crudely hewn stone exterior it had very beautiful stained glass windows. The church, being dimly lighted inside, lit up the windows so they alone stood out, and the grey stones were part of the dreary grey of the evening. As I stood there looking at the windows in quiet amazement, a clear high voice rang out from inside the church; it was singing part of The Messiah . Then as I walked slowly toward it, I noticed that the doors of the church were open, and I found myself walking in. The first thing I saw was the altar with its gold cross. Just below there was a basket of beau- tiful wild flowers. I looked slowly around and saw the pews, the pulpit, the organ. The presence of God was certainly in this humble country church. Minutes later I left the church and resumed my walking. This time it was not an aimless walk but a brisk and energetic one. My mind was quite at ease and all my problems solved. Rosemary Findlay, V C Working Backstage Working backstage has always given me a special sort of feeling. It is hard to say just what sort of feeling it is, but I suspect that excitement is at the bottom of it. Anyway, it is a very good feeling. Perhaps one of the actresses will tell you that she experiences something wonderful when she is on stage, under the lights, leading the audience deep into their own imaginations. Probably she does. I do not know. I just work backstage. But this is not my feeling. However, the actress and I both have one thing in common; we both get the same ting- ling of excitement and nervousness as the pro- ducer, with every one of his emotions at highest pitch, quietly and meaningfully whis- pers, Curtain going up! For him it is a big night, too. Out in the darkness, beyond the heavy plush curtains, hundreds of unknown souls are sitting ready to be carried away to far-distant lands. But they will be critical, too. We will soon know if they are pleased with the sets we have been working on, far into each eve-

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SAMARA 27 people, become one of the most powerful figures in this country. On the other hand, a man born into a wealthy, powerful family cannot become a prominent or respected figure unless he has the ability and personality to lead. Because we are all free to think and speak as we like, we must be careful that we only say and do what we honestly believe is best for our community, and not try to secure power and wealth by unscrupulous and dis- honest means. To keep democracy safe, every man must use the best that is in him, and con- centrate on giving, not getting. To educate a person that he may be wholly fit for this way of life is a very difficult task and requires concentration on the part of both teacher and pupil. As far as school work is concerned, he must have a good knowledge of the fine arts, history and some basic sciences, as well as an awareness of what is going on in the world to-day, and of the men who gave us our religion and moral code. But beside book work a student must learn self- control and discipline, and how to lead as well as follow. It is comparatively easy to teach out of books, but to be able to teach self- control one must have it, and in order to lead one must also be able to follow. Certain rules for living are found in every community, because there is always someone who wants to have everything his way. If a person can learn to obey all rules, no matter how small, without question and at once, while at the same time offering sincere and constructive criticism for the betterment of the community, he has been well educated for life in democracy. Roberta Bradshaw, 6 M My Impression of the New World At this same time last year I was preparing to go to Canada. Eager to know about this country, I studied newspapers and reviews. One day I imagined Canada covered with apple orchards; the next day I saw Canada covered with vast fields of grain. Canada was also a synonym of snow in my mind. But chiefly I knew that twice, voluntarily, Canadians came to defend our land and give their lives to give us back our liberty. The beautiful trip began. We passed some days in Paris, we admired once again the har- monious symmetry of the buildings, the churches, such as Notre Dame . These old stones are witnesses of history. We left Europe and boarded the ship I ' lle de France , anxious to get to know this new continent. One morning New York; this enormous city appeared as in a mirage, a town of modern cathedrals. On the left stood the statue of Liberty with outstretched arm ready to spear peace for the world, I hope. Paris— New York —six days on the sea to prepare us for the violent contrast. New York impressed us at first with its tremendous buildings, the uneven skyline, the bright colours and the strong light. Everything seemed extraordinary— the beauty of the illuminations at night, the sky so high, the cafeterias very practical and the red, yellow or green taxis driven by negroes. We arrived in Ottawa at the Chateau Laurier on a rainy day. We went first of all to find our future home in Ottawa. We were not yet used to this modern town with parallel streets like New York; then we were delighted to find the Parliament Buildings with their beautiful view on the Ottawa river. During our walk, this large country with wide rivers, lakes like seas, wild and lonely places, impressed me. To understand this thrill, you have to realize that in my little country men dispute to obtain ground to till. My country is hke a garden. Fences separate every field or pasture, houses line the roads. I liked the natural beauty of your country; I liked your lakes surrounded by beautiful trees. At the end of the summer I knew a little of the country surrounding Ottawa, but still did not know any Canadians. One morning for the first time in my life, I found myself in a lovely school in the centre of a charming park. It was Elmwood. Twenty girls gave me a place in their class- room as quickly as they gave me their friend- ship. I didn ' t understand very well what you

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SAMARA 29 ning, all week. They will not know that I went to eleven stores looking for a special chartreuse paint that I wanted for the distant meadows in the backdrop. Nor will they know that the net curtains on the drawing- room window belong in the stage manager ' s kitchen, or that they are precariously fastened up with scotch tape. Everyone is moving around me on tiptoes. It is almost pitch dark backstage, except for the cracks of light that shine in from the lighted stage. I wonder if I have forgotten to put any of the props on the prop table ' . No, I do not think so. The second act is al- most over. Yes, it will be only a moment now before we can turn the lights on backstage, and I can patch up someone ' s make-up. This is only his second time on stage, and he is very nervous. One thing I like about working backstage is the oneness of purpose that everyone has. We are all working towards the same goal, to put on a good show. Everyone will work his fingers to the bone to achieve this. There is a terrible uproar going on around me, as the stage crew change the set, and the actors discuss the responsiveness of the audi- ence. Everything has gone without a hitch. Old, pompous, snobby Mrs. Robertson was sitting in the front giggling with enjoyment. Yes, it was going to be a great success. And just think, I am part of t his whole thing, only a little part, but a necessary one. I am a little cog in a big wheel. Perhaps that is why I get that special feeling when I work backstage. Everyone ' s feelings affect those of all around them; whatever I do will make a difference to the next person. Oh, the audi- ence is applauding, the house lights are on; the actors go home, I go to my home, too. The theatre is empty. Jennifer Woollcombe, 6 U Fire The bitter winter wind blew the freshly fallen snow around us, but the heat of the fire penetrated the air. A once beautiful house was now being razed to the ground. A large crowd stood around the flaming house anxiously watching. The shingles were flying into the air as though they were pop- corn just starting to pop. Falling bricks and boards came crashing down and a loud explo- sion indicated that the furnace had just blown As I stood shivering in my shoes, since I was clad only in my dressing gown, I watched the beautiful dream house burning into ashes. This was the house which my father had waited for so long, and now we had it, but in ashes. The last I remember was seeing part of the house foundation crumble to the ground, and when I awoke I was in my bed. It was all a dream. Sandra Drew , V C The Four Subjects of Failure (With apologies to Shakespeare and As You Like It ) All the schools are jails And all the girls and teachers merely in-mates; They have their good marks and their bad. One pupil in her time fails many tests— The lowest often thirty! At first the Spanish- Taught by Seiiorita young and gay. Then the age-old History, With battles and their modern counter-parts. Learning monarchs taught by bearded scholar, Longing only for an arm chair. Next the Physics veiled in formulas— With sundry potions— known alone by Wizards ' fertile brains! Last the Latin— full of strange verbs And mildewed sundry wars Taught by magister harassed by glowing dreams of glory Seeking the bubble of success, even in The face of certain failures! This ends the inmates ' schooling In mere oblivion, Their failures numbering four. Sans hopes, sans dreams, sans promise, Sans everything!! Victoria Brain, V B