Castilleja School - Indian Paintbrush Yearbook (Palo Alto, CA)

Page 81 text:

Elvis r-'ff' ,. Q8 Tennesse Vfig-walk 571155 J St. Louis Blues Finale Refi Blues

Page 80 text:

DANCE CLUB Le-ft to right - front row: S. Chrnoweth. T. Marsh. J. Carlson, S. Good. .-X. Cierc, S. Hoover, L. lllcflinnis: back row: L. Price. N. Nlunior, A. Coil. A. Har- roun. K. Harms. Pfjackson. A. Bartee. H. Ehrman, D. Battie. S. Shafer, M. Davis. ARTS UND CR-KFTQ CLUB 1 111 N o Q 1 IX r L aku 91111111111 ,I ax . . .OB11cn.B,llun1r fX. Burnham. C. Olicfn. P rru ia. . . ey . .- Beich. .-X. Coil. l.. Krmrich S. Shafer. V. Hill.

Page 82 text:

THE PROLOGUE It was a bright winter day in Paris. and the sun. falling on the freshly fallen snow, made a jeweled Coverlet over the square before the entrance to the Cathedral of Notre Dame. The small crowd that had gathered before its gray stone steps heard in the distance the tinkle of tiny bells, as a troupe of jugglers whirled into the Rue de la Cite. They turned and leaped and tossed their silver halls high into the air. catching them skill- fully-for this was Christmas Eve-and they were gay. Then suddenly, a ragged urchin, excited by the merriment, snatched the cap from one of the jugglers and darted off. He was quickly pursued by the angered troupe and the aroused crowd. Soon the cathedral was vacant and silent. In the transept of the spacious cathedral stood a delicately carved statue ofthe Blessed Virgin, about which a legend had been created. It was the custom each year at Christmas time for the monks and the children. the princes and the tradesmen to give their most precious gifts to the Mother of Our Lord, and should the perfect gift be given, the statue would come alive for one fleeting moment to bless the Civer. Yet all through the years the statue had remained cold and motionless. The shadows lengthened. and the massive doors to the cathedral were swung apart. The candles before the Madonna were lighted. Fluttering shadows made rhythmic patterns over the lovely figure. Monks in their grey robes and reverent towns- people in their best raiment came to gaze at Her shimmering beauty, and lay at Her feet their most treasured possessions. Again, the cathedral was deserted and still, and the candle- light wavered unsteadily across the face of the hallowed statue. From out of the shadows, emerged the troupe of ragged jug- glers: but fearing the return of the monks, they quickly capered away. One, braver than the others, gazed in solemn adoration at the image. His heart was heavy, for he had nothing to give. Nothing-except his skill in dancing, and juggling the silver balls. Hesitantly at first, a rhythmic dance. Gradually he in- creased his speed: faster and faster until in a moment of ecstasy, he passed his cap round to an imaginary crowd-and then to the Virgin herself. Instantly he fell on his knees in sorrow and contrition. He lay motionless, his tiny being trem- bling with fear. Over and over the child tortured himself with thoughts of his offence. But suddenly-an idea-he would dance faster and better than he had ever before danced, until he could dance no longer-and pray he would then be forgiven. Slowly. he arose, and began his dance of repentance. With all of the energy left in his little body he leaped and swirled, throwing the balls each time higher, each time more rapidly than the last. until he fell-lifeless-at the feet of the Madonna. The tranquility was broken by the return of the jugglers and the townspeople. When they saw the silent form lying be- fore the Virgin. they stole forward in horrified amazement. Then. the Madonna slowly raised her arms toward heaven, in solemn benedietion over the body of the boy, who had given the greatest gift of all. A hush descended over the starlit square. Silently a mantle of fresh snow covered the Isle de la Cite and the world was once more prepared to celebrate the birth of the Holy Child. NANCY JACOBS