Buffalo Seminary - Seminaria Yearbook (Buffalo, NY)

Page 22 text:

18 SEMINARIA I944 Bob's eyes narrowed, What will mine be? What will yours be? She's had her life. Perhaps what it is is what she has made it. Mary's eyes flashed a warning. She's had a hard time. Go to Mexico and perhaps when you come back- Her voice trailed off. Bob's mouth set in a stubborn line. There'll be nocompromise. I see your duty to your mother and I respect you more for seeing it. But you also owe a responf sibility to the future and a duty to yourself. What about that? Mary's small feet were planted firmly on the ground. Her eyes darted like caged things from Bob's face to the winter scene around her and back to Bob's face. A little time to think this thing out, she begged. Look, hon, he whispered, 'Tm sorry there's not too much time, but that's the way things are. Think this thing out for yourself. It's five now. I'll wait in my room until sixfthirty. Phone me if you'll go. Then I'l1 ask permission to wait a week and we'll go together. But if there are doubts and your responsibilities weigh heavier than your love, he shrugged his shoulders helplessly, then there's no point in my waiting, is there? Mary's throat tightened, her eyes answered where her voice could not. Bob rose quickly. She watched his tall figure disappear through the falling snow. She sat quite still. Her head fought with her heart, and like sand that regretfully slips through her Hngers, she knew that moments were passing and with them her happiness. '..Mary walked home slowly. She opened the door and her mother's petulant voice quickly followed the click of the latch. Late again, Mary! You would be today, because I especially wanted you to be early. Sorry, Mother. She was hanging her coat in the closet and her voice seemed muffled. Well, come on back. I have some news for you. 'Mary walked back to her mother's room. Mrs. Madden was nervously powder' ing her already overfpowdered face. This may surprise you. Mr. Hatter, a friend of your father's, came to call this afternoon and we had a very pleasant time. I'Ie's been coming'quite frequently. You know I'm alone so much while you work. We've always enjoyed one another. He's lonely and so am I. You're a quiet mouse and seem happy enough with your work and so you won't mind when I tell you that we've decided to be married. Mary felt suddenly cold as though the snow was still on her face and the fog was still around her. There were no tears but the feel of them as she heard the clock strike seven. --FRANCES SAPnRs'roN, '45

Page 21 text:

SEMINARIA 1944 17 He was Mary's romance. Bob and Mary had many happy times together. There were picnics with daintily prepared box lunches, civic concerts, often walks through the park, and once in a while a splurge with dinner at a restaurant and a movie, on the evenings when Mrs. Madden had other plans. Mary had just finished bundling the last of her charges off for the day when she was called to the phone. She heard Bob's impatient voice, Listen, dear, I'm in a rush and I have to see you immediately. Please meet me at the second bench in the lane at the park, right away. Mary enjoyed the walk through the park. She slackened her pace and took a deep breath of the cold, fresh air and viewed the scene around her. The lightly falling snow veiled the luxurious forest in bridal white, and the lights from the homes across the way completed the atmosphere of fairyland. She walked lightly and leisurely, loving the sound of the snow crunching under her feet and the soft touch of the flakes on her cheeks. Bob was waiting for her when she arrived. He seemed eager to tell his news, and happiness radiated from his boyish face. He rose quickly and grasped both her hands in his. Mary, he said the chance of a lifetime! The Stoker Company are sending an engineer into Mexico. The pay is more than I ever dreamed. The work is what I've always wanted. Their project will take two years to complete. Don't you see what it means to us both? Mary raised her eyes, her hands still prisoners in his. Bob continued, his excitement too great to wait for her answer. We'll be married at once. You'll love Mexico. It's primitive and untouched and our life there will be a gay adventure. Oh, darling, this is the chance I've always waited for. And with you. Suddenly he stopped. Mary's eyes were downcast. There was no answering joy in her face. Bob drew back, hurt, not understanding. Oh, Bob, don't you see? It isn't that I don't love you-because I do! I think I've hoped and feared for a long time that this would come. Hoped it, because, quite simply, Bob, I love you, and feared it because I dread telling you what I must say now. Don't you see, Bob, that mother has to be considered? My salary's big enough, Mary. We could manage to send something home. His eyes crinkled again, and he smiled reassuringly. 'Tm a young man and I'm on my way up. Mary looked off somewhere in the distance. She seemed to be thinking out loud. I'd gamble for myself but I can't gamble for mother. Besides, it isn't just the financial help. That's the smallest part of it. She's so dependent on me. Mother's never had many friends nor cared much for other women since Daddy died. I've been her companion, her friend. Don't you see, Bob, I couldn't walk out now. What would her life be?

Page 23 text:

SEMINARIA 1944 Eveninq PRIZE POEM 'Mid sylvan shades in amber light The myriad insects of the night Lie waiting in obscurity. The silvery sheets of water play Wrenching the light of dying day To forms no living object e'er could be. The multitude of warblers trill their song Down through the convex branches and along To the patient cliff, to the eifervescent creek. From concealed haunts in the low entangled reeds Vibration of music, sweet and soft, proceeds, And oft in the hush of twilight crickets speak. The sluggard river, in neverfending stream Catches the shimmering light of a transient beam, Tosses it back and goes on its lazy way Under the willow trees where the turtles lie, Out in the open air 'neath the evening sky, To the dark of the forest glen that knows no day. In the hush of the evening air the shepherd's call, Echoed threefold by the cave near the tumbling fall Pierces the air and dies in the solitude. The silence grows as the cool cloak of night, Veiled in a whispering breeze, speeds on its flight, Envelops the world in a deeper quietude. --Aucn Rooms, '47