Trafalgar School - Echoes Yearbook (Montreal, Quebec Canada)

Page 18 text:

She sat there, gazing out of the window — the feeling of loneliness again swept over her, and the tears she thought herself incapable of shedding started again. Why had God done this to her? She had prayed so very earnestly that her parents would be brought home safely; she could not have prayed much harder. Yet, it had happened. He had done this terrible thing. Why? She vowed loudly and fervently that she would never believe in God again. NEVER. She would never pray again, not as long as she lived. She kept repeating these words over and over, until finally, through the mixture of a fear-clouded mind and a lonely heart, she realized what she had been saying. Witli realization came self-condemnation. What had happened to her? She felt ashamed and unworthy. In all humility she got down on her knees and prayed as she had never prayed before. She asked God ' s forgiveness for being so faitldess, and asked Him to help her never to become so weak again. She knew it would be hard without lier mother and father, but she also knew, although they were gone, she must work as hard as she possibly could to make them proud of her. She would try, and with God ' s help she would succeed. For the first time since she had received the news, she smiled through her tears. She got up, and, as she quietly walked out of the room, she saw, back- stage, the proud look on the faces of her parents. The final curtain went down, and, by the applause of the audience, she knew she had played her part well. Anne Berry, Form Vb, Ross House. CARMINA LATINA ' ' Spem Successus Alit Spem successus alit nostri ludi dictum est, Sed ut successum habeamus laborandum est. Debemus igitur omni nocte sine dubio Habere quattuor discenda et quinque nimdina. Spem successus alit Is the motto of our school. But, so that we may have success. Hard work must be the rxile. That, then, is the reason why We certainly can depend On having four lessons every night, And five on the week-end. Judy Cliff, Form Va, Gumming House. Ex Nihilo Nihil Fit When ordered very suddenly I looked at Prose and Poetry , Scribere Latine, Nepotem et Caesarem, Non potui arbitrari Sed ibi nihil inveni Of anything to say. To solve my great problem. So, after thinking many days. Poem a inceptum est. Opus confectum nunc babes, But not like Vergil ' s best ! Barbara Davison, Form Va, Ross House. [16]

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iHASTA LUEGO! THERE IS a wide strip of sand which stretches along the ocean of Rio dc Janeiro. It is the famous Copacabana Beach, lit at night by a string of pearls. At night, in the darkness, the pearls glisten and sparkle, ihe waves of the ocean lap the golden sand and creep up over the reinforced cement walks. There is a warm breeze that fans the faces of solitary walkers and rustles the petticoats of long skirts tliat twirl around trim, brown ankles of beautifvd senoritas. This is a world of soft colours, soft breezes, soft voices whispering sweet words, and eyes that speak messages of beauty. The mountains are lit by small lights that appear to hang from nowhere in a full sky of blackness. Close by the beach, across the road, another spell is being woven; there is a string of modern skyscrapers with large windows built to catch every breeze and bring relief from the stifling heat. From the doors and windows and outdoor cafes comes the vivacious sound of music and the laughter of many people who are selfishly glad to be alive, having forgotten everything except the present. There is dancing and music evervwhere, and a spirit of vinreality prevails over a gay world of haiipiness where all ugliness of decay is hidden under the mantle of blackness. All the Latin American countries have a high tempo which makes the blood beat faster; and their peoples are peoples of magic who dance and live with a joy and abandon that can be seen in the life sparkling in their eyes. Having once seen such expression in a face, it is impossible ever again not to be affected by its presence. Each person who has ever set foot on Spanish soil makes a silent vow to return and relive a holiday of memory and dreams. Rio in the daytime is entirely different from Rio by night. The ocean eats l)ungri]y and devours the sand as it climbs over the legs of ambitions early bathers. The sun is very strong, so everyone swims between eight and ten o ' clock. By mid-day the sun is too hot except for the natives, and they do not ap|)reciate their free beaches. Everyone eats outdoors in restaurants that crowd the bases of the hotels. The modern buildings add to the bright colouring of the sky, the sea, the ocean, and mountains and the people. [18]