Massachusetts College of Liberal Arts - Mohawk Yearbook (North Adams, MA)

Page 12 text:

MISS PEARSON If any North Adams Normal School grraduate, State Teachers' College student. faculty member, past or present, were asked to give a synonym for art, the answer would be Miss Pearsong so completely does she express the art life of this college. Everyone who has learned through her wit and wisdom enjoys more of the beauty of livinggg the eye is led to look at a tall tuft of flowers beside the brook g each drinks the wine the morning spills and sees the light on yonder hills. Although Miss Pearson has warm and understanding' appreciation of the Berkshires. she is quite the wanderer to places strange and fanciful. Her eyes of wonder and hands of skill have given to many the joy of vicarious travel, and now that another dream argues the death of an old duty we wish her great happiness in her continued search for beauty. G. L. D. page fcn

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C o gin emnrtam ALBERT GOULD ELDRIDGE ' 1884 - 1936 r The qualities of Mr. Eldridge's character already recounted here are those by which we in the training school shall always remember him. We appreciate this special privilege of voicing our special respect and affection. With all the perplexing details of his responsibilities, with the added burden of failing health, he always kept within the scope of his thought and interest the children and the teachers of the training school. It was no small achievement that due to him the training school personnel felt its oneness with the Teachers College in purpose and in understanding. We remember him for the truly human interest which brought him often to the training classrooms. He rose above the mechanical routine of admini- stration to sense the child as the heart of education. We shall remember those occasions of a social sort when the spirit of fun swept away the restraint of his oflice and his grand sense of humor and gift of fun-making gave great joy to those with him. We shall remem- ber him as a personal adviser whose penetrating understanding was tem- pered by a true sympathy. We who were here to stand by his side when the continuance of this institution was in doubt know how truly deeply he loved the school. We shall above all remember him as a man in the truest sense of the word. His squareness and trustworthiness find significant expression in the record of placement of our graduates, a task and accom- plishment that was his. We remember him for his quiet, firm insistence on what he felt to be decent and right when the easier way would have been to compromise with conscience and to court personal popularity. He must, we may be sure, remain in our memories as a man of courage almost beyond belief, who day after day gave way by not a fraction of an inch to the misery that would have broken the will and courage of the average man. To have known one who faced death calmly, bravely and with self-control, to have known one who did not know what it was to spare himself, who drove himself to the duties cheerfully and vigorously as long as mortal strength endured, to have known Albert Eldridge is to have been granted a rare privilege and inspiration. R. F. H. Ilflgt' nine

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UIDWAIQD A tree that looks to God all day, And lifts its leafy arms to pray. These lines by Joyce Kilmer give rise to the debatable question, Why do tree branches point up ? Foresters will tell us that the limbs reach upward towards the sun, spreading to admit the light, to allow the air to circulate freely, and to stimulate fully the capillary flow of the necessary fluids manufactured in the little factories called leaves. This reply is correct but does this material explanation satisfy? Does it leave with the hearer the same feeling, the same sudden realization of the greatness of the Heavenly Father that Kilmer's explanation leaves? His lines give a wonderfully simple and natural answer to the ques- tion. It is a pleasant thought, that of a tree spending its lifetime in a gentle, murmuring prayer to the Great Creator, a prayer emphasized by every sighing wind or careless breeze, by each rude storm which, passing, leaves the sturdy limbs tempest tossed, still pointing upward, and by myriads of happy songsters who, nesting in the foliage, send their sweet chorus to the heavens in a melodious sweep of sound. In sunshine or storm, by day or night, in summer or winter, spring or fall, the leafy arms are eternally lifted, rendering praise. These two answers to the problem are both fine. Each contains a beautiful thought, but one is material, the other, ethereal. One is printed in science textbooks, the other is written indelibly in the hearts of many, small and great. One satisfies the intellect: the other, the soul. One is taught in the classroomg the other we learn to value highly as we journey through life. Each explanation is absolutely necessary. Food is needed for both mind and soul, and food for both is found in the answer to our question. Without the spirit, of what use are the workings of the mind? Without the thought behind, of what use the spirit? Without Kilmer's beautiful idea of the Being behind our being, of what good the wonderful story of the life He gave? Our little question is answered. The thoughts which have risen from it have challenged ages of wise and brilliant men. Rita Mead '37 page c'I1'z'cn