At the ending, it is said that your life flashes past you. As my school days come to a close, I am overwhelmed by a lifetime of memories, the opposing forces of the ephemerality and eternity of fourteen years in deadlock. I look back at these years with sentiment and gratitude towards the school that built me.

I am a kindergarten student who colours inside the lines. I am a second grade student who loves Science. I’m in fifth standard, hurting from the wound of a broken family. I’m an eighth grade student who writes her first poem. I’m an eleventh grade student deeply interested in the brain.

I think of my friends, our fundamental differences and our elemental alikenesses. I am struck by the immediacy and imperishability of a year’s time, of how what we study will be studied aeons after our time and the only learning is the meaning that we take with us from our lessons.

When I look up at the sky in school I feel home, comforted by the nuturing support surmounted by her walls. On my last day, I look back on fourteen years of memories shut away in my childhood and witness the birth of a new beginning. Although I can’t believe it, I’m told that our lives are just about to begin. As part of the generation about to take on the world as an adult, I can’t wait.