Brockton High School - Brocktonia Yearbook (Brockton, MA)

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BROCKTONIA , ESTEEIE NKATZ Class Poem Swifter than Time had ever sped before Passed June, and now we were to graduate. Into the world we were to graduate, to shape Our joint possession, Life. that did await. The night had come, all awesome and immense, Our solemn graduation: silent, sat Six hundred Seniors, sad, expectant, tense. And while the master gave a scroll to each, Reading the name of every youth and maid, Strange fear stabbed at my heart: frightened. I turned, And saw that every Senior was afraid. An icy coat of mail encased my heart. Oh God, I whispered, why should this be so? . Why are we not content? Should we not rejoice For what will be: not merely sad to go? Ah. what is coming? We must stand alone. Here, we've been sheltered, guarded: we're so young! What is this Thing called Life? Is it so dread? Then through the hall divine reply was rung. I think it was God's voice: none else could be So sweetly safe. secure, dispelling fear. I raised my head: for, hearing, now I knew His firm assurance. He is always near! Ah, child, like thunder rang the voice: Have heed You are upon a threshold, soon not youth, But world-wise. 'What is Life?' you ask, afraid. Life is God's gift, a wondrous thing: in truth, Most wondrous-Life is Love itself. and growth? Just as the writer out of nothingness.

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I8 BROCKTONIA learn that this manuscript was not accepted immediately. On the con- trary, Davis's masterpiece was re- jected by several editors and revised many times before it was finally published in Scribner's Magazine. Yet Gallagher marked Davis as a successful writer of fiction. The his- tory of the World reveals many other instances of famous men who re- fused to allow previous failures to deter them from the success of which they were capable. But in our effort to secure self- confidence we should guard against self-complacency. There is. after all, a vast difference between faith in ourselves and satisfaction with our- selves. Self-coniidence is the foun- dation for magnificent achievement. but self-complacency is the death of creative work. More specifically. the life of Louis Pasteur is an excel- lent illustration of self-confidence unmarred by any trace of self-adula- tion. ln spite of the scepticism of his colleagues, Pasteur persevered in his experiments with inoculation, until today he is acknowledged as the scientist whose discoveries with regard to disease are of greater value than those of all the medical acade- mies in the world. Yet we need only look about us to observe many individuals who are allowing self- complacency to kill any impulse they may have towards aiding humanity and improving their own condition. Let us. therefore, forget foolish van- ity, and strive for a justifiable faith in ourselves. When we have gained this desir- able confidence in ourselves, it does not follow, unfortunately, that we shall have equal confidence in other people. Nevertheless, belief in hu- manity is essential to the preserva- tion of a well-balanced life. The pessimist, with restricted outlook. lacks that incentive to action which only faith can give. lf we could, in fact, believe in those about us as simply as the Bishop trusted Jean Valjean, the criminal from the gal- leys, we, as well as mankind, should reap the reward. For confidence, like the quality of mercy, Ublesseth him that gives and him that takes. There is. however, one precaution which we should observe, and that is not to believe so unreservedly in our friends that we shall approach idolatry. Since everyone is human and subject to error, we are likely to be disillusioned: for unscrupulous persons may use our confidence in them to their own advantage. Thus we encounter the difficulty of know- ing whom we may trust. Obvious- ly, we shall discover no infallib'c zn- dex of trustworthiness. It is, in fact, only by experience that we may gain worthy friendships. Probably many of us have al- ready realized that self-confidence and trust in others is of no avail without faith in a Supreme Power. Too often we hear that the younger generation believes faith in this Power is futile, and that modern youth is replacing God and religion by science and belief in material things. Some of us, unquestion- ably, pay undue attention to lux- uries and indulgences. and neglect the spiritual side of living. Yet the experience of man has shown that occasions arise when neither trust in our own resources nor the support of our friends will uphold us. ln such crises we must rely upon the power of God. Now whether we recognize it or not. we are all confirmed believers: otherwise, we should not continue to live! However loudly we main- tain that we are doubters, by every deed we prove that we believe in life We all hope to reach some goal and, consequently, we plan for the future. Everyone of us who makes plans for tomorrow testifies unconsciously to his faith in life, his faith in God. Unbelief? There is no unbelief: Whoever says beneath the sky. 'Be patient. heart: light breaketh by and by.' Trusts the Most High. He'en F. Mclienney,

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BROCKTONIA Or potter, out of moist and sandy clay Can fashion things, not perfect, but of use, Your lives are yours to form and trim away. Just as when day. begun with promise fair, And equal hope for all, sinks in the West, Made good or bad, Life starts with equal share, Its end by your own deeds or cursed or blessed. A bit of slender silver cord is Life, For some of dull, for some of splendid sheen. By all the acts you do or words you say, You keep it free from knots, untarnished. clean. Life's in your hands, you know, in yours alone: Through noble actions and a little care You'll keep the silver thread so pure and fine, 'Twill be a necklace you'll delight to wear. Life is no calm and scarcely rippled stream Of even. safe, monotonous, soft blue. Nay, Life's a churling, choppy, angry sea. Furious with varied currents, pied of hue- Or, say, like rivers green and gold and black, Oft tinged on stormy days with petrel gray, That frenzied start to end in dreamy coves, Swift Life may empty in sequestered bay. As when a man, pursued, on bridge of steel Sets out to cross a chasm, and he must go Unable to turn back, yet knowing not What dangers he may meet, what friend or foe Awaits him on that hard and glistening bridge, So must a man pursued by Time set out On Life, go ever onward: can't return, but meets Whatever lies there on the bridge of years. A brave man all with courage, not with timor, greets Not like an hermit on a mountain top Surveying Life with carefree, idle heart. Not like great Milton, peerless poet, who Dwelt like a star, so silent and apart. Not so survey you Life: there is no time. You must partake in every bustling scene. Vkfho lives must work and give and help. Life is no placid mirror, cold, serene. ' See there your banner! 'Know Thyself' it says. So say I. too: then, as your powers grow You'll find your faults and labor to improve. Making a 'self' that you'll be proud to know. See there the folds of orchid and of white, The one a color royal, a mystery, The other pure as angels, God's own light, Does not yon banner hold Life's prophecy? Purple, the heliotrope of poet's amaranth. King's crimson: Spring's own lilac hue. Dominion over Life is but obtained Through purity. whiteness, in the things you do. Perform each task with simple, kindly heart, Without the vain. mean hope of any meed Except the love of God: remember, He Is ever present: knows your every need.