The Convent Spirit lives on and on
In all of us Convent girls who have come and gone
Through the Irish sisters’ disciplining hands
To them and our teachers, our gratitude we now send
A beautifully structured building is our dear school
Where we learnt our lessons as well as the rules
The two big halls ring echoes of the past
Of applause at concerts and exams too, alas !
The canteen was the favourite meeting place
Of girls rushing for food and eating in haste
We have to finish our meal before the bell goes
Then we’ll have to rush for assembly and line up in rows.
In our own little square that was our assembly ground
Long concrete seats were built all around
Tall angsana trees their shade they lend
Where the girls congregated and met up with friends
Each morning we parked our bicycles in the bicycle shed
Next to it stood a beautiful tree whose fruit was like bread
Before school began to chapel we’d go
Where pews were arranged in neat little rows
Prayers were said at assembly each day
And Rev. Mother would have her own little say
Walking to class two by two and hand in hand
When our teachers came in, we would all stand
Our school fun fair was a famous event
As we sold the coupons, erected stalls and tents
The St. Michael’s School boys thronged to our school
Eyeing pretty Convent girls, while keeping their cool
And now we are told that the story must end
The nostalgic memories, the Convent, the land
Must now all go, for someone has sold
‘Twas such a waste, coz our history is gold.
~ Liz Sammy-Chin ~
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