Time is like a sharp knife.

It can carve hard lines on beautiful faces and wear out youth year after year, but using it well can make a piece of simple stone into a great statue. St. Mary Academy is still a simple piece of white stone briefly carved, but as time marches on, duanwenw,.com it may be spoiled by dust, worn out by weather, or broken into separate pieces. It may be also carefully carved by knife into wonderful statues. Everyone at school, including our schoolmates, controls this knife.

If I have a chance to live to be an old woman, I shall, in my peaceful dreams, seek the old paths leading through the trees which I used to travel down in my earlier days. The old bell tower, standing in the golden sunlight, makes a slow, solemn1 sound as girls pour into the church like a stream. There they will kneel, pray and whisper to their spiritual Lord about the little things in their lives. They will ask him to help them in reaching their future goals and I can hear the old church tower whisper in return, “Yes, St. Mary certainly possesses the most hard-working girls that shall glorify2 her with their bright futures!”

What I feel when I hear these words depends on whether I have done anything meaningful over the years. If I have been successful, I will smile with pride and contentment, for I have taken a part, though a very small part, in carving out, with the knife of time, this wonderful model of school life.

Time is like a sharp knife.

It can carve hard lines on beautiful faces and wear out youth year after year, but using it well can make a piece of simple stone into a great statue. St. Mary Academy is still a simple piece of white stone briefly carved, but as time marches on, duanwenw,.com it may be spoiled by dust, worn out by weather, or broken into separate pieces. It may be also carefully carved by knife into wonderful statues. Everyone at school, including our schoolmates, controls this knife.

If I have a chance to live to be an old woman, I shall, in my peaceful dreams, seek the old paths leading through the trees which I used to travel down in my earlier days. The old bell tower, standing in the golden sunlight, makes a slow, solemn1 sound as girls pour into the church like a stream. There they will kneel, pray and whisper to their spiritual Lord about the little things in their lives. They will ask him to help them in reaching their future goals and I can hear the old church tower whisper in return, “Yes, St. Mary certainly possesses the most hard-working girls that shall glorify2 her with their bright futures!”

What I feel when I hear these words depends on whether I have done anything meaningful over the years. If I have been successful, I will smile with pride and contentment, for I have taken a part, though a very small part, in carving out, with the knife of time, this wonderful model of school life.