Buffalo Seminary - Seminaria Yearbook (Buffalo, NY)

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SEMINARIA 1943 21 Something to give this room warmth and color. A room, like people, must have roots and background, answered the interior decorator. Of course, Mrs. Lorey, he said a little apologetically, This touch may be a little expensive, but leave it to me. You'll find it well worth the money. Mrs. Lorey acquiesced, and the decorator left in triumph! The next day Mrs. Lorey went shopping with Mrs. Connor, and there was surf rise and pleasure in her voice when Mrs. Connor said that she heard the Loreys had redecorated their house and she would love to see it. Mrs. Lorey had a feeling of pride as they went up the brick walk, but when she opened the front door she heard a sniff and felt a cold stare. Yes, there in their accustomed places were Aunt Eliza and Uncle Egbert. Mrs. Lorey rapped her pencil against the paper, brought her thoughts to the present, and raised her eyes to Aunt Eliza over the mantel. In spite of the sniff it was a kindly face, and she thought very differently of the prim black dress and the cameo than she had thirty years ago. Why now she even liked the Way Uncle E bert stared! She carefully copied the address that the Ladies' Page7' had given Wien she thought she heard again a sniff. In a relationship that, she found, goes deeper than words, Mrs. Lorey understood that Aunt Eliza would not approve of selling family stories for money. Aunt Eliza would not think it 6ttin'. All right, Auntie, said Mrs. Lorey as she tore the envelope into tiny pieces. You and I both know that in years of comfort, companionship, and tranquillity I've had my bonus for my 'boner'. FRANCES SAPERSTON, '45 0 PHILOSOPHY There is a quiet beauty in a sigh. There is a diamond brilliance in a tear. And there is beauty in the passing of a life, As beauty in the dying of the year. I see a depth of passion in my faith, To melt the cold and cruel ice of care- A crown of rubies, hot and red as blood, Set with the costly jewels of despair. BARBARA Goom-run, '43

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20 SEMINARIA 1943 Of course, Bill had said. We can easily afford it. So the next day jean had started to redecorate the house. She discarded the mahogany and the walnut for birdseye maple, and the heavy draperies and portieres gave way to Brussels Lace. A beautiful gas log with an odorless flame was a happy substitute in the place where a wood fire used to crackle, and a look of triumph stole over Mrs. Lorey's face when she stood in the front door of her fashionable home and watched two burly moving men carry out Aunt Eliza and Uncle Egbert from their accustomed places over the mantel. As the front door closed upon them she watched with no regret Aunt Eliza's sniff for the last time and Uncle Egbert's last disapproving glance from the corner of his eye. She had sold them for very little money, but what could one expect from two pictures like that, and besides it had been almost enough money to pay for the etching of Paris in the Spring which now occupied the coveted place over the gas log. Now that her house was redecorated Mrs. Lorey would go on through life contented. There was nothing that she wanted. The years flew by, and now Bonnie was attending a fashionable boarding school, and Bill was getting good grades in an eastern college. But something was weighing heavily on the mind of jean, something that needed to be straight- ened out. One morning during vacation when Mrs. Lorey and her two children were eating breakfast later than usual, she carefully and tactfully led the conf versation to a subject that had been troubling her. Other families have guests, why not ours? Other children bring their friends home and share the companion' ship with their parents. Your father and I would like closer contact with your friends. Is there any reason why you do not make it possible? Bill ate furiously, his face very red. Bonnie, seeing that there was no hope of help from her brother, took the conversation as gently as she could into her own hands. Blue eyes met blue eyes earnestly and truthfully. Look, mom, it isn't your fault. You and dad are swell. It's this house. It isn't comfortable or homey. It looks like it grew up when someone had an hour with nothing to do. Nothing looks old, or used, or loved, or lived with. You'd never know we had grandparents! If Mrs. Lorey felt a sting at her daughter's words, her voice, in spite of it, was cool as she answered, I never saw it just that way, children. I'll see what can be done about it by your next vacation. Now that the children had gone back to college Mrs. Lorey was free to ponder the matter over in her mind. She decided to secure the services of the best interior decorator in Chicago, and see what he could do about making their house a home. The interior decorator was really making an improvement. He had brought divans, soft colored carpets, and comfortable chairs, and now the house really looked lived in. He had told her he would be through by the end of the week, and he was faithfully keeping his promise. On Friday afternoon Mrs. Lorey was sitting in the parlor enjoying the new coziness when the decorator strode breathlessly into the room. I've got it, I've got it!, he gasped, I've got just the thing to com' plete this room. What is it? , replied Mrs. Lorey in a tone that sounded as if it just came out of the ice box.

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SEMINARIA IQ43 That Fnnlish Prayer PRIZE POEM I used to say a prayer at night, I used to think perhaps it might Be some help, when I went astray, To light the way. And then l grew and knew such things As only highest wisdom hringsg I saw pure light-why stop to pray?+- Since there was day. But all the while I stumbled on There was no light-only a moon Of shifting shadows, silverfgray: I lost the way. MARGARET NICHOLS, '44