Sacred Heart Academy - Gradatim Yearbook (Belmont, NC)

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lass Ifpistnrp Each of us has her memories of school life in which, day by day, happiness and sorrow were skillfully blended into one exquisite pattern forming, as it were, a colorful tapestry which will be only one of our many life portrayals. The fundamental stitches of this pattern were made when. as the freshest of Freshmen, we entered Sacred Heart Academy and became accustomed to the orderly routine of boarding school- daily Mass, supervised study, innocent, wholesome and invigorating recreation. all made obliga- tory for our well-being. Occasionally, our threads became entangled but the Sisters kindly and patiently helped us to straighten them and often taught us new and useful stitches at which we became quite adept in the years that followed. One of the darkest threads appearing in our design during the freshman year was the death of a classmates father. Her consequent withdrawal from school left us with only nine needle workers for the rest of the year. The next scholastic year, we were glad to be together again, and being Sophomores, We were so very sure of ourselves, that we industriously began work anew on our tapestries, shaping in details and finishing off places that had been neglected during the previous year. Necessarily the sombre shades of languages, mathematics, and history had to be used, but these were relieved by the bright hues of surprise parties, picnics, and movies. all delightfully blended into our scheme of life by the ever vigilant and loving Sisters. To our dismay, wh-en we returned the next year we found only three of last year's class among the Juniors. Because of this fact we three became known as the Three Musketeers. As the year progressed the class formed a closer companionship which grew as we Worked side by side. and helped us to bring into prominence the pastel shades of peace and love. We looked forward with eagerness to the Junior-Senior banquet, and when the time arrived, we gave the Seniors such a time as they never had and made them wish that they could remain forever within these happy walls! One of the happiest moments of our school lives was that soul-stirring instant in which the Seniors changed their tassels from left to right, thereby making us the proud possessors of their singular privileges and of the traditional Senior Dignity. Now we are going to graduate and leave-some of us never to return! We are nine this year, and everyone is a true representative of Sacred Heart, filled with the inspiration which is so essential for the development of practical, Christian womanhood, ever constant and true. The design in each tapestry has been completed. and we may now gaze with some degree of satisfaction upon the finished product. Carefully and with individual attention we have been instructed in the art of blending deep purple with gold, gray with crimson, and black with sky-blue. Being young, we have preferred the brighter threads and gayer designs. Some- times, it has seemed hard to lay aside the orange threads of recreation and take in their place the darker shades of work and study. We have learned that to work in the brighter strands successfully, we must combine with them almost as many dark ones. but we have also learned that too many sombre shades. like shadows, must be brightened by high lights, in order to bring out their real beauty and significance, Now, since the time of graduation has come, let us go forth and use successfully the craftsmanship which we have learned during these happy years as we, day by day, fashion that broader tapestry of our adult life. Let us strive to reflect credit on the Sisters, who, by their experience, diligence and far-sightedness, have helped us to form a refined and delicate, yet .strong background for the design which we shall, in future years. choose to weave into our tapestries. -HELEN JONES. Page Twenty-three NINETEEN THIHTY-EIGHT Sill

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95 Q ' 1 f ll9 'f 1 tl I IVIIRIAM WELDON PHILADELPHIA, PA. f ll X St. Matthew's CID: Sodality CZ. 3, 43: Dra- ' matic Club GJ: Class Secretary QED: Basketball dj KZ. 3, 45: Monogram Club 12, 3, 45: Bridge l f2 Club CED: Literary Society C451 Tennis HD: Hockey IZ. 3. 43: Softball C451 Testatrix GRA- , I W DATIM. r - ,aff I f af, W 'J' 'ff' WW ummentement WW y Who does not glory in climbing a hill, In reaching its summit at last, There where the dreams of the years are enshrined, To rest from the climb that is past? We have adventured together these years, Our heartaches and pleasures combined, Up to the heights where our daydreams are true And clouds in bright silver are lined. Here we enjoy the rewards of our tasks And others will seek our station. Turning to bid them aspire and attain We start on our life's vocation. Upward and onward We strive towards our goal For Life is a miser, we see. Each coin she gives she demands one returned And allows no discrepancy. -MARY CLAIRE ALLEN. Page Twenty-two THE EHADATIM

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575 lass ibrnpbetp Only two more miles! The nearer I came to my destination the more I trembled with emotion. My attempt to visualize our meeting failed because of the questions that came surging through my brain: Will I recognize the girls? Will they remember me? Will the old familiarities be resumed? . . . It was June, 1949 and I was on my way to dear old Sacred Heart, my Alma Mater. For years I had looked forward to this event-the reunion of the class of '38. The bus stopped. I was really in Belmont again, in front of the graceful arch proclaiming in large letters SACRED HEART JUNIOR COLLEGE AND ACADEMY. Forgetting I was no longer a school girl, I grabbed my belongings and started to run up the walk, In spite of the well-known entrance, for a few moments I doubted that I had reached my proper destination. Girls of various sizes came running towards me from all parts of the campus, but the familiar brown and tan uniform was no more. These girls were dressed in a trim dark blue jumper with a pale blue silk blouse, They courteously offered to carry my bags and conducted me towards the buildings. Before we had advanced very far, I heard a laugh peculiar to one person, the dear directress of my school days, Sister Columba. Joy of joys! Once more she embraced me sincerely and affectionately and said, The girls are waiting for you in the old Senior dormi- tory. I needed no further urging. I made my way up the steps to the third floor and ran madly down the corridor. I stopped in front of the door through which I had passed so many times and took a moment to regain my composure. Then with my heart fairly leaping with excitement, I flung open the door . . . I could have saved myself much anxiety. Dottee! Dotteel they cried, as joyfully as any old friend could wish, The first person I spied was Miriam Weldon, resting as usual. She did, however, exert herself enough to rise and give me that old familiar grin and a hug. By that time the other girls realized that I had arrived. and all were trying to reach me. Questions pelted upon me like hailstones. Hey, I cried, in schoolgirl vernacular, Give a person a chance, will you? Glenna Fisher, our little peacemaker, took charge of the situation and soon had everyone seated. Well, I'm ready to start asking questions, I cried gaily, but first, I'm going to do a little guessing. Edith Gallagher. it won't be hard to find out what you have been doing with yourself. The papers are full of you nowadays. You've practically reached the peak in the law profession, haven't you? Well, not exactly, Edith replied modestly, but I have done very well. I always knew that 'gift of gab' would never go to waste, said Miriam. Since you're so smart, Miss Weldon, how about telling us something about yourself? Miriam casually Hung a newspaper at us and said, 'fGaze on that. We gazed all right, for there on the front page was a picture of our Mur- ram, and above the picture we read, Miriam Weldon, Star Guard on National Championship Basketball Team. L'Congratulations, Miriam! You have been climbing! and similar remarks came from different parts of the room, I'm not the only person who has been going up. retorted Miriam. Ask Mary Curlee a few questions. Come on, 'fess up Mary. Well, I've been doing a little dancing, faltered Mary. Page Twenty-four THE GRADATIM