That first red envelope sitting on my kitchen table, the dumping ground for everything and anything in my house. Name and address scrawled across the front in a vain attempt to disguise my mother’s handwriting. The cliche'd phrase `From your secret admirer` noted on the inside. Gee, thanks Mum! Just what I’ve always wanted. That was the year I turned thirteen and my mother assumed I must be `boy mad` by now, which in truth I wasn't. Boys to me were still things that were handy to play football with once in a while and then they were discarded before they became irritating. It was another few months before I discovered their `qualities`. Although I cant deny the fact that my heart gave a then unfamiliar lurch at the sight of that first card, followed by a slight plummet when I realised who it was from.
St Valentine`s Day just has that effect on people. Even the cynics, who regularly quote the well known fact that it is just a day invented by `Hallmark` to bump up sales in the after Christmas pre-mothers day slump, have been known to melt when that bunch of blood red roses adorned with ribbons has been presented to them. What hypocrites. The day has the ability to bring out the best, worst, sentimental, cynical and competitive side of all of us. For example, I have never seen such animalistic impulses portrayed in two girls as I did on the day of the mistaken Valentines card.
Two friends of mine just so happened to have a crush on the same unfortunate boy, which caused enough tension in normal circumstances, but with St Valentines Day looming things were worse than ever Days and days of sideways glares and snappy comments which finally came to a head on the day itself. A dusty pink card sellotaped exactly in between the two lockers but who was it for? You could almost see the dust flying as the two girls raced towards the card, and the first to reach it ripped off the envelope so fast I`m convinced it could have been a world record. We held our breath waiting for the denouement of this particular drama, who was going to get their prince? In an act I like to call `typical guy torture`, the boy had conveniently neglected to write down who the card was for; it was simply signed 'guess who?'
I`m afraid I can`t go into detail on the exact happenings of the next ten minutes as you never know what age group may end up reading this but lets just say there was an argument over the rightful recipient of the card that resulted in two black eyes- one each, a nasty scratch down one cheek and a rather prominent bump to the noggin Quelle suprise, a cat fight that started over a boy! It makes me almost glad to think that that first card came from my mother. I don`t know if at the age of thirteen. I would have been able to hold my own in a fight like that and as much as I love her I can`t see her being the inspiration of a brawl!Dawn Hutchings-Walsh,5 Opal
New School jacket together with the School Scarf
Catherine Vickers invited you to play Lucky Slots.
Jo-Ann Elizabeth Furlong invited you to play Hidden Shadows.
Tina Byrne invited you to play Pudding Pop.
Parents — the primary educators — and the school work in partnership, like an extension of the family. The school involves them as fully as possible in decisions about their daughter. Close links are maintained with home, indeed the philosophy and objectives of the school cannbot be achieved withouth the cooperation and support of parents/guardians.