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Page 70 text:
in The Blueprint
T HAD been bright and sunny, that
summer's day two years ago. I had
arrived on the beach a little later than
the rest of the crowd. Not that I
really had any reason toi arrive late,
but I always did. The crowd used to
kid me about never being on time.
Upon my arrival, I had been so
busy straightening out my beach
paraphernalia and answering remarks
about being late that a few minutes
had passed before I noticed a new
addition to the crowd. Someone, I
don't remember who, had. mumbled
some sort of introduction, and so I
learned that his name was Mike
Mike wasn't the type of fellow who
would make you think of Peter
Lawford, but he didn't remind me of
Frankenstein, either. He was just
sort of average. After the iirst hasty
introduction, we talked a lot. I dis-
covered that he was four months
older than I, the same year in high
school, liked to dance and skate, was
star halfback on his school football
team fthis fact, he was reluctant to
admitj, and that we thought the same
way about lots of things. The after-
noon was almost over before he got
around to asking me for a date.
By Catherine Moylan, '49
Our first date went off smoothly. It
was one of the few times in my life
that I was on time. After that Mike
and I dated a lot and had lots of fun
together. Soon, I became known as
That summer went faster than any
other I've ever known. During the
winter, although Mike and I lived
seventy miles apart, we saw each
other about once a month. He took
me to his Prom and I took him to
mine. We didn't go "steady", because
both of us felt we were much too
young. Since we were seniors, with
lots of extra activities, the winter
didn't take too long in passing.
So, as easily as counting one, two,
three, another summer arrived. Mike
and I arrived at the seashore with it.
Things easily fell back into their old
pattern. And thus, another summer
sped past. Still there was no mention
of the future because we felt too un?
certain about our respective careers.
Winter came upon us once more,
and our distance of seventy miles in-
creased to two hundred miles because
Mike went away to college. Naturally
we saw each other less and less.
I became interested in someone else.
I couldn't write the news to Mike. I
Page 72 text:
THE 1949 SILVER SANIJS
thought it better to tell him when I
saw him again.
Two months ago when summer
arrived, I had my chance. Once more
I made my way to the shore. Mike,
who had arrived a week ahead of me,
met me at the station. While we were
driving home, I tried to get up enough
courage to tell him, but I just coulln't
do it. When he asked me for a date
that night I said yes, and when we
reached home I told him. At first, he
was very surprised, then he told me
he was very glad for me. Then he
said, "Carol, I've some news for you,
but please don't tell anyone else. I
want to keep it a secret for a while.
I'm interested in someone else, too."
So, the summer once more passed
away. Mike and I remained very good
friends. Perhaps that explains why
we're traveling together on this train.
But once this trip ends it will be a
long time before we see each other
again. Tomorrow I'm entering the
Convent of the Holy Angels as a
postulant, and Mike is starting his first
year in the seminary. That someone
else we're both 'interested in is God.
The Luck 0f The Irish
A-S' I WALKED down the street I wondered, "Is it worth it? Y es," I con-
:luded, "it certainly is worth it, but I can't seem to make other people
think so." As I turned these thoughts over in my mind, I was getting nearer
and nearer to my destination. "Would this be like all the rest?" I asked myself.
I supposed so. I was gradually becoming very disgusted with my own little
campaign. I turned the corner. Only one more block to go! Could I take
another disappointment? I must! Soon I was standing in front of my goal-
Crane's Grocery Store. "I'll turn back now," I thought, but no-I must go
through with it. Summoning all my courage, I entered the store. I closed the
door with its tinkling bell behind me. There was no turning back now! "May
I help you?" asked Mr. Crane from behind the counter. I was half tempted
to pretend that I wanted to buy something but I couldn't. Swallowing the
lump in my throat, I asked the oft repeated question. I couldn't even bear to
look directly at Mr. Crane, for I knew only too 'well what the answer would be.
I turned ot last-could I be dreaming? It wasn't possible but yet there it was.
A smile was upon the kind, old gentleman's face. A ray of hope reached my
sunken heart. At last my hopes were realised as Mr. Crane turned and said,
"Sure, Dottie, I'll be a patron to your Senior Play."
Dono'rHY McCoMBEs, '49
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