Arts High School - Vignette Yearbook (Newark, NJ)

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THE END AND THE BEGINNING MARY SCHUSTER And God looked down from His majestic height Through the starry wonders wrought by the night To the earth, plodding through her worn celestial path. He gazed at products of man’s time-worn wrath; And He sighed when He glimpsed the bomb-cratered field Where the sweat of toiling man to make nature yield Had fallen, and where now his blood in the same manner stains the rich loam In defense of his freedom, his country, his home. And His eyes filled with pity as onward He saw Cities, writhing in flames reaching skyward like claws. When suddenly, to His ears came the sound of many speaking in one voice, Not commanding, nor crying, nor calling for choice, But mounting clearly above the confusion, The prayer of the youth without youthful illusion. And as God listened, the weeping shadows on His wondrous face Fled before the silent sunshine of His smile. How long His searching eyes had sought in vain The hope, the long-lost hope! He visioned the praying youths as the new-spring seeds The roots grasping gleefully the soil, The sturdy stems leaning gracefully upon the wind And their tender, infant petals embracing all humanity In uplifted faces. And lo—they did not cease to live and beautify their home But multiplied—ten thousand fold. And grew until the broken, blood-stained earth Was healed and harbored by the moving throng that covered—all. And as the many youths arose and started on their way, God's smile went with them—saying—‘“They are the Hope.”

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PE SCL rd THE ARTIST AND THE ND WORLD OF A aad

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HARRISON FE. WEBB A MESSAGE FROM THE SENIORS We came to you, Mr. Webb, as dreamy-eyed, shiny-faced adolescents and our minds and hearts, which had just emerged from childhood, were not anchored to a purpose or a goal with firmness, but drifted with the tide as our fancy willed them. As the days and months, and even years, sped swiltly by, thoughts began to move in more directed lines, knowledge opened many doors that demanded exploration, and we began to have a wider range of vision. But all of this was not an accident. We thank you for the personal consultations, your patience, and good humor. You have seen students come and go from this building. Various fates have met them as will challenge us: success, mediocrity or failure. Whatever happens, more students will come, climbing and clamoring for the bright future. But you, Mr. Webb, will remain ever- young because to us, you will always be Arts High.