1974 School Magazine

DESCRIPTION OF A VERY OLD WOMAN IN A ROCKING CHAIR The, peasants' cottage was fairly clean and neat, but with a stone lloor and walls, and a bamboo thatched roof , it was rqther hard to keep it so. Entering, one could leel the darkness and age of the small room, lit by a smouldering lire and a small oil lamp. Once your eyes bicame used to the dimness, you couicl see'the interior of the hut. There wer_e chests, shelves and cup- boar.ds, lining the walls, ancl a small rag mat lby in .front of_ the fire, supporting the" ancieni, rjckgtl rocking chair, which mbved smoothly back and lorth upon it. Inside the recesses ol the large chair wes a bundle of clothes, and instde tha"t, a face peered out with _eyes, alive but deep, anct dark_tooking as- though they were wells that never endei. They showed no sign ol life, betrayed no in_ terest, only the thin lids blinked over'them a few times in quick succession. At the edge of e'ach eye was. a crowsloot wrinkle surrounded by many othe_rs of a not,sg happy nature. Her eye_ brows,-pale and deacl looking'were hari'to i*_ tinguish lrom the colour of hZr stcin. nei mouth, a small, tight line across her btherwise pale faci remained closed, except lor stight ^ori*"nt, o, .she mumblet) to herself. Frariing this taci wii a band of ..g_rey whitei, wispy iair, piiiruding lrom a small bun .stuck fult oi hairpins.' Below this, the skin hung in thin, almost transparent lolds under the chin to her collar, H,e1 s.hqlld3rs lqcqed forward, rugged up in an old, indistinguishable garment. Arms, thin and bony led down to delicately veined'hanis and. nervou-s _twitching fingers. A rug covered the rest ol her body from view, but it was obvious tha! her legs did not reach the ground. _.P-eside her, on the rug, lay-a well thumbed B,,ible,and a ball of woolind knitting. Suiaenty,, tne darkness was torn, as she called out in a shrill, trerybling v'oice ,Meinouka, Meiniukal, A young girl ol about len, came rushing into the room and sat next to her grandmotier on the mat.,She reached. up for the Bibte, opened it, and belan to read aloud. OnIy then did'I realizi that this old peasant woman was blind. Margery Gehrmann 4C

Mary Williams, VIB

Will I wake alone again to face the sadness in my soul? The llickerittg memories begin to chase across my mind searching lor something, always moving, so fast-ihat reeson is losl. I leel and sense, but cannot understand things iust are I iust am Love iust is Why? I don't know, A yearning ache fills my heart as reason is enveloped by'confusion. r he waues of existence wash over my helpless body as I struggle _to preserve the nothingness that I am And the world looks on, tying ,we know what is best for you.,

Susan Anderson, VC

,.ry

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