A NEWCOMER’S IMPRESSIONS OF CONVENTION

White Ribbon, Volume 20, Issue 3, 1 April 1948, Page 3

A NEWCOMER’S IMPRESSIONS OF CONVENTION

We arrived in Wellington to attend Convention, expectant of —we were not quite sure what. The smiling welcome of two charming members of the Wellington W.C.T.U., who met us, assured us of what lay ahead. Convention opened under the gracious guidance of the Dominion President, Miss Kirk, whose kindly charm linked all delegates together in happy harmony. She was ably assisted by her capable officers, whose help was so courteously and freely extended to all throughout the first days of Convention. As newcomers we were intrigued, interested, and imbued with the sincere, happy spirit of it all; and struck with the earnest desire of these delegates to give of their best to matters placed before Convention. That this annual event is a trainingground, giving insight into the vast fields of humanitarian endeavour encompassed and encouraged by the W.C.T.U., and fulfilled, to a great extent, was obvious to us novices from the beginning. In the bettering of conditions for children, nun. and women, and all humanity generally, our organisation works quietly and efficiently at its target for good, influencing the laws of the country in the right direction. Its world-wide endeavour for the welfare of humanity in peace, prosperity, and health, was brought home in few words very vividly to Convention, by our two accomplished delegates who attended the World Convention in America. At that huge gathering of the world intellect of the W.C.T.U. movement, black, brown, white, and yellow delegates met to to learn from each other, and to combine with each other in their effort and action for World Welfare —to stamp out humanity’s No. 1 degrading curse, the drink traffic, with its attendant evils. It was not all work at the Dominion Conference. A reception of welcome, interspersed with songs by accomplished artists, teas, visiting lecturers, church services, and organised outings were recess high lights. We took advantage of the glorious sunshine Wellington so kindly favoured us with in such great measure, to enjoy a trip across the harbour to Day’s Bay. It was a perfect Saturday afternoon, warm sunshine, tempered with gentle sea breezes from the sun-flecked blue-

Jane Emery

green of the harbour, stretching out to the water-line of its surrounding hills, hazy with the sun-kissed blue of the heavens above. The “Kangatira,” with its trim whiteness and bright orange funnels, rode gently beside t lie grey, weather-worn wharf. A flock of seagulls alighted on the glistening blue water beside it but soon rose again with a whirr as our launch chugged in to collect us. The jetty was * crowded with people in holiday mood, and we milled and surged with them up the green gangway on to the launch, with the infectious lightness of "the afternoon off” atmosphere prevalent. From our seats on deck we watched Wellington recede and take on its proper dimensions, with the tang of the sea in our nostrils. Our gaze swept round Harwell's Point to the curve of Oriental Bay, the congested masses of the wharf with its cosmopolitan shipping to * the ill-fated “\\ anganella,’’ round the abundant curving miles of the harbour to Petone, a»d further round, to the point of our excursion, Day’s Bay. The hills and slopes of Wellington were a blur of houses, bright roof-tops intermingled with an abundance of trees and shrubs. Soames Island lay to the right in a gossamer haze; the rock on which the “Wanganella” met its fate stood out in defiance within the roadstead to the open sea. Trim white yachts cruised by in elegant leisure as our launch chugged onward . The drowsy tranquillity of the open spaces mingled with the joyous laughter of gleeful children and more serious adults was good to expelienee. We landed at Day’s Bay and climbed the shady bush track which took us up and up to a marvellous view of Wellington and its environs. We came down, elated, to afternoon tea in the whitewashed, up-to-date pavilion with its shady verandah, and delightful garden retreats. Day’s Bay is a Paradise of Peace with its lovely native bush mantling the steep slopes and deep gullies, and the rooftops of red. yellow', and white—just vivid patches of colour standing out of a tufted doth of green. The beach beckoned and claimed its quota of enthusiasts. Motor cars lined the parking area of the Bay, facing out to the sea. Revellers boated, swam, walked, ate, and paddled. Times built castles in the sand, while others such as we just drowsed on the warm, sandy hanks, drank in the lovely lines and activity of the Bay, contemplating lazilv the beautv of life.