Blessed Sacrament High School - Zephyr Yearbook (Seattle, WA)

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THE ZEPHYR Page TwentyfFive never been practical in his school days. Perhaps this coincidental meeting was provi- dencial. She would try. I helped to erect the Little Flower Shrine inside. She was struggling hard to keep back the tears of the sweet memories. And the man was seemingly overcome with some impressive recollection, his vision of past fervor, faith' ful counsels unkept. I'mp going to ask you a favor. Will you come inside with me and say a prayer for my intention in memory of this unexpected meeting? Poor man, how could he refuse? And then to keep down all pangs of his conf science, he said within himself, This will mean a bit more than mere effort for me. He followed, reluctantly, and was greatly impressed by the beautiful Gothic ecclesiastical art. The high altar, that was what they called it, wasn't it?-looked so supremely beautiful-and so Htting the temple of God that he could not stifle his conscience. He saw the statue of the Little Flower and an involuntary ejaculation escaped his lips. Then he shrugged his shoulders and pulled himself together. He followed his old schoolmate whither she led him and knelt a short distance behind her at the Shrine of the Little Flower. Looking up he perceived a wonderful smile on the counf tenance of the Little Flower. He was seemingly moved by the sight and his heart was filled with grief and love-grief for his negligent past so vividly before him now, and love for the dear little Saint and for his divine Redeemer whom he had not served in a manner becoming a good Catholic man. Mrs. Tridonne was stunned to realize that Clinton was remaining so long in prayer. He must have stolen out-. She arose to leave, and was more than impressed to see the evident prodigal with bent head absorbed in prayer. He rose, genuflected solemnly and followed her out. In the vestibule he stopped her. Mrs, Tridonne, I want to tell you something, and I am sure you won't be sorry to hear it. When I recognized you, little memories, little pangs, gripped my soul. I had memories-bitter memories of my life after I left school here. I too saved my pennies to help build the Shrine. My name too is inscribed in the altar of the Little Flower. But I fell away and today is the first time I have been in a church for eighteen years. It was due to your simplicity and faith--and our attendance at the school across the way, and our love for the Little Flower that brought me back to God. Indeed I assure you I will henceforth be more practical. Our Little Flower has brought about my conversion. Was the grace of this conversion due'to the exemplary life of this classmate, or was it a rose from the shower of St. Therese? It is difficult to know. Surely a living example is most potent, but without doubt it was also the intercession of the Little Flower of jesus whose shower of roses inevitably falls every day upon souls precious in God's sight. Verna McCann, '30, FIRST ACADEMIC CLASS OFFICERS President, Florence Flaherty, Vice President, Eleanor Synnestvedt, Secretary, Nellie Kelly, Treasurer, Dorothy McGrath

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Page TwentyfFour THE ZEPHYR SECOND ACADEMIC CLASS OFFICERS President, Kathleen Dempsey, Vice President, Mary Crawleyg Secretary, Ann Forhan, Treasurer, Emma Kelly A Rose from Saint Therese's Shower HOSE rare June days, of which Lowell so beautifully sings in his sweet immortal lyric, hold dearest memories for many and many a one. On such a day it was, that a woman, richly but simply gowned, lovely unalloyed beauty of heart and soul gleaming in her countenance, stepped down from the Oriental Limited into the bustling crowd at the Grand Union Depot. She walked straight through the hurrying throng and stood near the line of cabs. Inf stantly the cry was heard, Taxi, lady? Taxi? Taxi, ma'am? She looked them all over and selected a yellow. The driver glanced all around as if expecting a porter to take her bags, but she said, No bags! He climbed into the cab after helping her in, and waited for further directions. Drive me to the 'Little Flower' church, please. The driver was startled. That tone of voice-a second more scrutinizing look- and a light seemed to corne over his face, even though a cloud of pursuing thought shadowed it. The 'Little Flower' Church! he mused to himself. This was alumnae day at the college there, so the papers had said. Could she have gone there to school? Wash she Grace Devon? Her riches surely never did spoil her. No. This lady must have received her education in a fashionable finishing school, from all ap- pearances. Oh well, it's all imagination, and he started off. Having arrived at her destination, the lady sat for a moment in the car looking at the church. It was without doubt the finest edifice of worship in the West. Did it look as beautiful inside as it did on the exterior? She knew it did. Across the street stood the magnificent school-truly the most handsome and best equipped in the Northwest. Oh what happy memories surged through her whole being! She incif dentally glanced at the driver, who had just opened the cab door and was helping her out. Are you not Clinton Burwell? she asked almost breathlessly. Mrs. Tridonne, for that was her name now, was right, and so was Mr. Burwell. One of her assof ciates of high school days at St. Therese's, was the cab driver. Hurriedly, they ref newed their acquaintance, recalling a few familiar names, and Mrs. Tridonne added, Isn't the church beautiful! I have traveled a great deal and I have never seen any to equal it as a parish church. And then too, this church has memories. It belongs in a sense to me. She was soliloquizing now. You see I helped to build it. I saved my pennies, worked hard, oh so hard, for bazaars, etc. My name is enrolled in the Shrine of the Little Flower, inside, because I helped toward its compleiton. I graduated from this school twenty years ago today. This evening there is going to be a grand banquet over in the school for my graduating class. Mr. Burwell, I wonder if you know how I feel when I see this church? She knew Clinton had

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Page Twenty-Six THE ZEPHYR