Reflections of Havergal: 1994-2019

Appendices

Our School Ludemus , 1990

Havergal. Havergal! How familiar that name is to all of us who have ever dwelt beneath that roof. A name, that before we knew the school, was regarded with a mixture of curiosity and adventure. All the real and unreal stories of boarding-school life seemed centred in that one word; it fairly savored of midnight feasts, and pillow-fights after dark. A name, that during the first few weeks, gave one such a homesick feeling and a desire to be among familiar faces again. And, last of all, a name that every Havergal girl looks back upon with love. The old school! What memories does it not call up in “old girls,” the friendships formed and fostered in the school atmosphere, friends perhaps that one has not seen since leaving school. The old life of method, work and play in their rightful proportions, the gay jests and pranks so highly appreciated at the time. School life always has its peculiar charm that no other life can approach. Whether it be in the autumn when there is always an intense interest in the many new girls, when the long “lines” that sally forth are crowded with new faces; when the crisp frosty air rings with the shouts of the basket-ball players; when the long evenings begin to close in, and the greater part of our fun is planned in-doors. Or, in the winter when we return cold, but happy, from seeing our glorious hockey team victorious in some

match; when we enjoy the delightful concerts in Massey Hall; when the concerts, theatricals and tableaux that we “get up” are so kindly greeted with applause; when we spend too short evenings on the ice, gliding around to the entrancing strains of a hurdy-gurdy. Or, best of all, the short spring and summer months, the happiest and yet the saddest—happiest because home waits at the end of them, homes that many have not seen for a year, saddest because of our parting. Then, tennis and cricket fill our spare moments, and sometimes delightful picnics or excursions to the woods are planned. The last week or so the dire cloud of examinations shadows our path, but even that passes and all is bright and serene before breaking-up day. It would need the pen of a Dickens to describe the fun and pathos of that day—hot, flurried girls, who leave by trains early in the day making desperate efforts to gather together the many handbags and parcels that are essential to their welfare on the homeward route. Cool, collected girls, who lend a helping hand to the hot and flurried ones. Girls, with woe-begone faces, taking a final farewell of everyone. Patient mistresses, tired and worn out with the stress and strain of work during the past few weeks, but patient to the end.

BACK TO PAGE 97

206  HAVERGAL COLLEGE