I thought I would die of sadness when Lindy and her family left for the States. We were 15. It was as if my life had come to an end. We wrote tear-filled letters to each other for about two years. Brenda was my first best friend and Lindy was my second. I wasn’t sure how my faith would hold up without her.Mondays were especially difficult for me. The girls came back to school after a weekend of partying. They asked me what I had done and who I had slept with. There were many discussions about virginity and the loss of it. They just couldn’t understand why I had decided to wait until I got married.
My subjects were Biblical Studies, French, English, History, Biology and Afrikaans. I kicked myself over and over for not taking Domestic Science and Typing instead of French and History. I wanted to be in Lindy’s class. Then she went and left.
So much had changed, but I couldn’t seem to stay out of trouble. There was still lots of messing around in class. I was totally unprepared for my final exams and I did a lot of cramming and crying days before writing. There was NO WAY I wanted to repeat a year of school.
To add to my distractions I was a gymnast. I could tie myself in knots. Wilf said the circus was NOT an option so I worked hard and qualified for the National Gymnastics Championships instead. I never could point my toes properly and skipped all my ballet classes so I didn’t win a medal. I kept doing it anyway. Just for fun.
I was always first to finish my paper. I filled in whatever I could and then put my head on the desk and slept. Some questions were answered with “I have NO idea.”
Everyone was convinced I would fail. They expected me to be back the following year.
It was a miracle that I scraped through, by the skin of my teeth. When I walked out of those gates for the last time, they were amazed. There was a song on my lips. It was deep and profound. I sang it loud and I sang it proud:
No more school
No more stick
No more dirty arithmetic
If the teacher interferes,
Turn around and box her ears
If she wakes up in the night
Blow her up with dynamite.
With that, my school years ended.