Brimmer and May School - Yearbook (Chestnut Hill, MA)

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ay on I other d had ' back i cour- en't as me to ay by e hot ildren S. His :1 have te. He 3 busy turbed thet so take a of the it time at the much 311, he , loud ley as to the about 15 the t? H6 cidel1t I were te i67 , THE CALLICANTZARI The Callicantzari were mythical monster; which terrified the Greek countryside from Christmas Eve to Epiphany. Large black crosses were painted on the doors and fires were kept burning on the hearths to ward 01?t these evil spirits. The silent valley, speckled gray, With smoking chimneys and ftrelight Foretells the coming night. Ahead the barren olive trees Twist and thrust in pagan rites Reaching out with malformed bodies- Reaching out through twilight mist. ttPeace be with ,ee. Peace abide This holy eve? mumble passing forms That scurry to hrelit abodes. Peace indeed! The village lies empty And silent in the brittle cold, Each portal and chimney painted With a great holy crucifix. The sterile air grows thick and warm; Dark clouds of green, like tarnished brass, Surround the ascending moon Swirling in convulsive waves. The Earth trembles with incessant pulse Increasing in tempo, ttil . . . From out of her fiery throat burst Thirsty devils; crack the crusty Molten ground, break, and burst forth. Figures large, black, and tinted blue; Heavy, hairy, clumsy bodies Armed amply with muscle and clawe- New-born-damp, yet tough-taught by Helle- Accompanied by death. awaiting . . . Below in the evening dank, the town Prepares for sleep, for rest . . . One single soul, a weaver by trade, Adventures from his safer dwelling; But no sooner a step than attacked And the victim snatched to Hell, His careful garments in Cinders. Three other souls fall to the hell-beasts Before Hadest scourge can hasten back. The earth heals swiftly here. The silent valley, speckled gray, With smoking chimneys and firelight Foretells the coming dawn. Ann Tillotson, ,67 57 THE FINAL DAY staifisepghrgegmiogi ISgood Ptoudly-On the winging c v e e.trly morning hour. A light from the rising sun tiltered through the dusu xt-indtiws of the castle. now the home of hissing cuts hnd skulk- mg todents. The delicately carved columns. once sup- porting dancing cherubs and surrounded by tlowers at love, lay shattered upon the ground. The spirttl-shuped watch towers guarding the fertile land were reduced In slabs of granite. Pieces of straw and string protruded through the Spaces of rock which marked the nests of birds that had sought refuge from weather and looming hawks. The interior showed the etteets of time. The great rugs from the Far East. once of rich color mid complicated design, were merely gnawed holes. The furniture with deep velvet cushions had been a line meal for the rude inhabitants. The challenging sun rose to its zenith. The walls trembled at a slight noise in the distuneewsontemte could be coming at last! The castle waited unxioualy, and every creature stopped its busy routine. A huge bright orange truck stopped at the clearing space. The castle shook violently. The painted clock on the mantel struck out its final message. Stones. carefully cut and fitted by masons of long ago. tumbled to the ground with a ponderous thud. All was silent. Not u creature saw the painted sign on the back of the departing xehi- cle that read ttCenter Wrecking Crew. Nancy Smith, '68

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THE COMING OF THE PROPHET Restless with excitement, Jerome woke early. He lay on his little bed and went over again all the things his mother had told him. Long ago, according to the ancients, God had promised to send a Messiah to lead the Chosen People back to Him, and from time to time He sent a prophet to encour- age the children of God and make a new pronouncement as to when this savior might appear. The word had come to Jerusalem that a new prophet was coming to town today by the old South Road. After his work was done, Jerome slipped out into the hot still air of the streets and ran to join all the other children and the faithful waiting for the prophet at the city gates. His chores had taken him a long time today, and he would have to hurry to get there before the prophet was to arrive. He darted and dodged, tripped and tumbled through the busy streets, alternately avoiding and crashing into perturbed townspeople. , Time was getting short. He wanted to see the prophet so much! Maybe he could slip down this side street and take a short cut through a back gate. He was a little afraid of the narrow, dark road; but he would do anything to be in time to see the prophet. With only a secondls hesitation at the entrance of the alley, he went bravely ahead, very much aware that no one else was in sight. All of a sudden, he heard a door close behind him and two menls voices, loud and excited. He panicked, and took off down the alley as fast as he could, so scared that he ran all the way to the South Gate. Later, when he got home, he tried to tell his mother about the incident, but all she wanted to hear about was the prophet: what did he look like? what did he predict? He knew that it was silly, but something about the incident bothered him, and he couldnlt forget it. The men, they were talking so crazy. Something about an open tomb . . . Constance Surette, l67 56

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GUAGLIO On the beach at Cape Cod one evening, I noticed two girls huddled together looking at something which the older one held. Running to see what it was, I could hear av high peeping sound. I looked eagerly into her hands and saw a hrown mallard duckling as small and almost as round as a tennis ball. His back dlpped downward into 5 stump of tail. He was so fuzzy that his tiny, delicate wings stuck out comically from his body. He wore a yellow spot near each eye, with a few other spots dispersed over his body and head. His stubby bill and webbed feet were black to match his eyes. The girls had found him in the grass along the waters edge. They had to go away the next morning, so they left the duckling in my care. That night, I prepared a cardboard box, supplying it with newspaper, sawdust, water, and a dish of raw egg mixed with bread crumbs. He didnit like the meal, though, so I offered him some cracked corn which he wouldnit eat either. I slept with his box beside my bed; when I put my hand into the box, he climbed into it, lay down, pushed his bill between my fmgers, and went to sleep. Each time I took my hand away, he would peep until I oEered him its warmth again. The next morning, hopeful of returning him home, I spotted a female mallard with a couple of ducklings resting on the shore. When the ducks came to receive the grain which I held in my hand, I put my duckling down and hurried to a beached boat to watch. Presently he followed the mother, but she did not look back at him, and he soon fell behind. I had been following at a distance in the boat; when my duckling saw me, he swam into my hand. Now that he was a member of the family, we named him Guaglio thlyoi which means ttLittle Joeii in Italian. Guaglio was extremely tame and friendly, so he didnit mind being handled. In fact, he peeped anxiously and angrily when left alone. One afternoon, Guaglio was chasing ants. After he had crept into my hand, I placed him in the grass; as I walked to the garage, he followed, peeping loudly, hurrying to keep up. That afternoon was to be our last with Guaglio. That night our search for a warm nest for him produced only a small coffee can. I thought the tin would reHect the heat from his body, so I put cotton in the bottom and Guaglio on it. It was a cold night. however; he was too tiny to generate much heat, and the can got cold. The next morning, Mom called me. Guaglio was sick; he could hardly move his head. Holding him. I tried to warm him. He was motionless, but still I continued stroking him. A few minutes later, we buried him under a small pine tree. In the evening, I asked Mom if she believed in Heaven. She told me that she had once heard a story that she liked to believe. When someone died, his soul became a star; and every time someone thought of him, he knew it and his star shone. Late the next night, I went outside and looked at the stars. I spotted a small one beside the moon; it was twinkling brightly. I smiled; and still looking at it, I said softly, ttKeep shining, my little one? Barrie Goodman, I69