Saint Ursula Academy - Scroll Yearbook (Toledo, OH)

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I've Met You Before Time is really dragging now. It seems like hours and yet it's only min- utes. Most of the fellows are using these last few minutes to write home. Since I don't have a home and nobody to write to, I think llll just talk to You awhile. I'm not any good at pretty words and never learned prayers like the chaplain says, so Ilm just going to tell You how I feel. Funny thing though, seems like Youlre right beside me. Reviewing some of the past things of my life now makes me feel as if I missed the whole point of life. Un, if I had it to live over again. Kind of late to do that, but not too late to be sorry. That's what the Chaplain said and I believe him and I am sorry. You know, faintly I remember meet- ing You before. This one particular time I went to a Catholic church with a friend of mine. Sure, it becomes clearer now. Especially when the priest raised the Chalice and the people low- ered their heads in adoration. I can still feel the atmosphere. There were other times, too, but the point is I have met You before and ignored You. There has always been that some thing missing before. Now, at last that feel- ing is gone. Itls satisfied. You're with me, my God and my All. There goes the signal. That means we move up to the front lines. You're with me, God. Ilm ready. Let's go. --CAROL HACKETT '45 Wltat Price Vanity Did you ever struggle half the night trying to put your hair up in those aw- ful curlers, slowly winding them round and round, tucking each little hair in just so? Or perhaps you are the kind that puts her hair up in pin curls. Even then, every hair must be wound around and around the finger until all is pinned tightly against the head. Each curl rep- resents minutes of strenuous labor. And do you use nightly facials? Ap- plying one, two, and sometimes three kinds of cream, each brand supposedly serving its own purpose and each, with- out fail, telling you the next morning that your complexion looks queer? Have you ever experienced finger nail anguish every other night or even every two nights? Each and every nail must be individually filed with all the accessories of a modern manicure set. And have you deliberated over that beautiful coat of polish: should it be fiery red, blood red, or light pink, de- pending on your taste of color? What martyrs we women are to style! Oh, what price vanity! Oh, marvelous the invention that would do all of these things for the Eve in usl' while we sat quietly by, enjoying the latest novel. Any inventor of these 'fnight-Vanities or any ten inventors of them would be Clet me tell the worldj the superman of feminine hearts. -CAROLYN FRIQEH '45 Tiny Tim I had a little puppy His name was Tiny Tim. l put him in a bathtub To see if he could swim. He drank all the water And ate all the soap, And the next day he died VVith a bubble in his throat. --IYIARGARET MORTQN '48 THE SCROLL 23

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Christmas Reverie HE DECKS are dim and a small reflection casts a faint light on the starboard side. Thousands of soldiers crowd every available space. Nlike Harpen stands looking at the pier, while more troops trudge up the gangplank. He is quite alone, thinking of lN'Iom, Dad, and yes, Joan. Joan and the folks always were present when happiness was at its peak. Lucky enough to escape wounds, Mike recalls the past weary months spent com- pletely in contrast with the life he planned. Killing and dodging bullets werenlt in books when he was back at St. Peter's High. But that' doesn't alter memories, Mike thought, such as the time fifteen of us were trapped in a fox- hole with no help within reach. We were volunteers to penetrate enemy lines, to determine their strength. I was worried, plenty worriedg in fact, I wrote my last will and testament. It was a letter to Nlom, and a note attached for Joan. It was there that I thought of the wonderful times I had had at home, and what a fool I was not to appreciate it, I still have that letter, and in it I had a talk with God. Some of the fel- lows thought I was crazy, but it Wasn,t long before they joined me. The best part of that trying experience was the fact that I had gone to llass and Com- munion that very morning. The moon was shining bright, and the coming of Christmas struck me hard. I knew then that Nlidnight lVIass at Saint Peter's and the fun of opening gifts after Mass were out. I could almost taste that turkey as bullets woke me from my dream. My watch was over, and it was time to go to sleep. Strange as it may seem, I slept like a child who really tried to stay awake to see Santa Claus and couldn't make it. At this point in his thoughts the un- named troopship pulled away from the -PATRICIA FRITTER '45 pier. Rumor has it that it was headed for more action. lNIike was just another G, I. who gave up his family, sweetheart, and holi- day. It was tough but patriotic, and he was willing to give his all. As he stood there, the dawn was overcast and a light rain began to fall. Submarines lurked in the misty sea ahead. But INIike, like all the other boys, was a seasoned war- rior ready for action. This was why the Chaplain, Father O'Hare, could so proudly remark, That's what makes the American Army great. No matter how tight or light the pinch, a G.I. knows how to confront itf' As time went by the soldiers grew more and more restless. There wasn't much to do on a troopship but to think about home and how they'd love to he home for Christmas. Day by day passed and the Yuletide came closer. There were no wreaths in the windows or gay Santas in the de- partment stores. It was as though an epidemic had broken out on the ship. Every soldier had a particular dream he wanted to fulfill, and to bring the dream closer, he proceeded with an ama- teur show. The grand climax was the traditional carol of carols, Silent Night. It seemed good to hear these fellows singing after so many months of hand to hand combat with Tojo. Suddenly an .alert sounded as planes droned overhead. Drowsy soldiers jumped to their feet and silently prayed that the heavily armed ship could hold its own. Out of the misty darkness, roaring flying fortresses appeared to guide them on their way, Hours slowly passed. Out of the haze on the horizon, buildings sprang up and a band broke out with California, Here I Come. Tears rolled down Mike's smiling face as his Christmas dream be- came a reality. 22 THE SCROLL

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Radio Sketches OIVIE with us to the little alley half way across town. Wheii we last saw Gert and Klert. they were looking for old cigarette butts Qshortage being what it isl. :Xs we look in today, they have just found Uncle Snuffs old will. In it he has left his used paper clips to-I' Click-click- HI-Iold up your pants. These -lim Dandy suspenders are just what you men are crying for. They come in all sizes and colors. and you can wear them--tear them. If they donyt last, blame us. We have here a letter from llabel Glutz. She says-H Click-elick- the Man Down'. That's right, now you have six cases of Poppies. Would you like to try for another one? Okay, you can't think of it? No help from the audience. Well, I'll bet it weighed a ton. VVashington, that's right. Now you are- Click-click- 4 Smashing through Germany. Of course the Sayoyard is still there, but who cares. Iyll sign off now-. Listen in tomorrow night to ll. P. Vanderchief -who reports the news as he reads it. -jo.-XXX HUGHES 347 Trying to Get Mama to Say Yes Time - l890 lVIother: Walki1ig with a boy, at your age? lVell, I never! Youlre only sixteen, my dear, and it's almost seven o'clock. Hes a stranger besides. Daughter: But lVIother, he's not a stranger. I niet him at Annabelle's coming out party, and hels a perfect gentleman. You know the Simpsons w0uldn't have anyone who wasn't. Nlotherz Thatls true. Well, I suppose he's all right. But of course, I must meet him, and you are not to go out any time wiith him, until Iyve talked to llrs. Simpson to find out what he's like. You can visit in the parlorg and of course, I'll be there, young ladyfi Daughter: But lylother-H They enter the room where the young man is waiting. I-Ie stands as the women enter, Daughter: 'KlVIother, this is James B. Lowell, III, the son of James B. Lowell, Il, of Durwoodf, James, stiflly: How do you do? They are all seated. Time-Present L n. ' Bang! goes the front door. Young Jennie runs in J T with a boy, and greets her mother so: Hi, mater. X Kleet the beau boy. He's my specialty deluxe flutter- bump and I ainlt wollinllg he's really on the beam. Q, Q Arenlt ya, pappy? I Boy: Reet! May I take your daughter to the flicks? We can get some ground horse and cokes, or a slab at the drug store, if she's hungry. I got plenty of moola. I can? Weill, thanks for letting me borrow the vulture. Au Reservoir, Grandma. -SUE LEHNERT '47 ' . 24 THE SCROLL