Trafalgar School - Echoes Yearbook (Montreal, Quebec Canada)

Page 18 text:

TO THE NEW YEAR (Prize Poem) I ' woke of a silvery frosted morn. And realized that you ' d been born Whilst I did dream, and stars on high Still lit that darkned dome of sky; And while the moon her vigil kept, And while all Nature ' s children slept. I wondered then, from whence you came, Whom your parents, what your name? I saw you as a little child, Lost in a forest, strange and wild. What thought you of this war-torn earth. That met you at your silent birth? I did not hear you moan or sigh. Though valiant men went forth to die; Though as you drew your first, faint breath, A gallant brave was claimed by death. Though cities held by love and will. Burned long and furiously until Mere blackened embers strew the ground Centuries of hope thus drowned. What thought you of such grievous things. Wrought by the selfishness of kings? Determined you that in your reign. Nations would be calm again? That you would bring, though short your life. Relief from this, a bloody strife? Oil lot this fiery conflict cease. And bring to all immortal peace. Ann Taylor, Form Vb. Barclay House. [16]

Page 17 text:

A number of our pirls entered ihe Nutrition Competition, sponsored by ibc English section of the Montreal Nutrition Committee. Our congratuhitions go to Helen Ayer, who won second prize in the Budgeting for Food contest, and to the other prize- winners, Nancy Bruneau, Barbara Watson, Marilyn Potter, Giana Lyman and Betty Sutherland. The academic record of the Scbool was well sustained by those who took their Matriculation last year. We find that almost every girl reached the required pass standard, and we extend to them our congratulations, and, particularly, to Janet Dixon in winning the Grace Fairley Scholarship. It is with a feeling of pride that we remember the many Old Girls who are actively serving with the Forces, at home or abroad, or working far into the night in offices or ministries to preserve the conceptions and traditions, which the school has taught them. We don ' t forget — while in this dark December — We sit in schoolrooms that you knew so well. And hear the sounds that you so well remember — The clock, the hurrying feet, the calling bell: Others are sitting in the desks you sat in: , and yet You know we don ' t forget. Our grateful thanks go to all those, who, in any way, have contributed to the making of this magazine — this includes those whose articles, for one reason or another, may not have been used, and especially to Miss Bedford-Jones, who has spared neither time nor effort, and to Miss MacGachen and the other members of the committee who have welded the various material together. MAGAZINE COMMITTEE Form VIa. Form VIb. Form Va. Form Vb. Form IVa. Form IVb. Nora Newman Verniez Hood Pat Ford A] N Taylor Basbara Brown Joan Thackray Form HIa. Form niB. Up. n. II. Up. I. Lower I. Helen Ayer Joan Wilkinson Nancy Jane McMillan Dorothy Marquis CATHERir-iE Pickering Carolee Beaudoin [15]

Page 19 text:

DONALD ROSS FROM the (lazzlinjz; brightness of a winter afternoon I entered the Church of Si. Andrew and St. Paul and felt the sacred hush of a sanctuary embrace me as the door closed. The organ was humming quietly, when I sat down and admired — . . the high embowed roof With antique pillars massy-proof And storied windows richly dight Casting a dim religious light. Then 1 turned to examine the window on my right and discovered with a thrill of delight that it was dedicated to the memory of Mr. Donald Ross; I went over and stood before it. As I studied the inscription, someone behind me said, Why are you meditating so earnestly on this window, my child? Strangely, the voice did not startle me and it was with no fear that I turned to reply. Beside me stood a gentleman of the nineteenth century whose eyes smiled and twinkled as they watched me. I am from the Trafalgar School for Girls, I said. Is that connected in any way with the Trafalgar Institute? he asked eagerly. They are the same, I answered. The governors changed the name in 1934. Drumming his fingers on the side of the pew, he seemed lost in thought for awhile; then, he smiled. ... I see. Shall we sit down? . . . Tell me, please, what signifies the yellow pin on your tunic? It stands for ' Ross House ' , I told him proudly. It is so called in honour of our founder, Mr. Donald Ross. There are three other ' Houses ' — ' Barclay ' , ' Cumming ' and ' Fairley ' . ' Barclay ' is named for Dr. James Barclay who secured the financial aid of Donald Smith and thereby made possible, with the legacy of Miss Ann Scott and the bequest of Mr. Ross, the beginning of our school in 1887. Miss Fairley, from Edinburgh, was the first principal; and ' Cumming House ' is in honour of Miss Cumming, our past principal, who retired three years ago after twenty-three years ' service. And you are in ' Ross House ' ? Since this musing seemed more of a soliloquy than a question, I did not answer. Presently he asked wistfully, Have you a Chapel with an organ? That was my fondest dream — you see, I am Donald Ross — Please, be not afraid! But answer my questions; my time here is limited. I was not frightened. The church had grown dusky and the music sounded from far away. No, we have neither chapel nor organ — yet. I answered quietly. Disappointment showed in his face but he hastened to ask if our school motto were Spem successus alit as he had desired. Yes. Our dialogue was now rapid and concise. Realizing how much he wanted to find out in the short time allotted him, I had to condense my replies. [17]