Catholic High School For Girls - Silver Sands Yearbook (Philadelphia, PA)

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I Discover a' World AS THIS the place? It was so gray and forbidding, and so large! To me, who had just come from a school that was overcrowded with two hundred students, it was un- imaginable to think in terms of thous- ands. Would the nuns be strict? Were the girls friendly? These were only a few of the questions that raced around in my mind as I climbed a short flight of marble stairs and saw the otlice to my right. Maybe I had better come tomorrow. After all, classes had already' begun for the day. But no, too lateg someone had seen me. I was sent, with horrible premonitions, to the roster room, where, surprisingly, I found no imple- ments of torture, but a smiling sister, who soon had my schedule arranged. Then to my first class! How quiet the halls! Once again I was before a door. I entered. My tirst impression was that there were no pupils, merely fifty pairs of star- ing eyes. How odd! But this was only the beginning. The worst was yet to come. Someone had neglected to tell me that there were two build- ings! From room 101 to room 17, I started. Seventeen, strange but I hadn't noticed a seventeen in my travels. After a few minutes of use- less wandering, I became conscious of seeing a girl stationed here and a By Kathleen Wixfed, '50 girl stationed there in the hall. VVhy weren't they in class? 'Maybe they were some sort of superior creatures, who did not need school, lessons. There must be some explanation. Summoning the last dregs of my courage, I asked one to direct me. The usher did, and I found my class. For three days I roamed through halls, going to the wrong room, get- ting lost, being late for classes. At last, much to my surprise, I found myself going from class to class with- out consulting my roster. I no longer went to the wrong room. I was even there before the bell rang foccasion- allyj. Still another problem had to be solved. Coming from a place where everyone knew everyone else, I was lonely at first. This was gradu- ally overcome. Someone borrowed my Spanish bookg someone else needed a piece of paper. Things were pro- gressing. Then came the fateful day! As I walked down the hall, in ani- mated conversation with one of the girls, forgetting the regulation about no talking before the bell in the line leaving the cafeteria, a voice from behind me demanded, Young lady, were you talking? As I signed my name to the small slip of green paper, I glanced around. Everyone was looking at me sympathetically. At last. I belonged!

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THE 1949 Sxnvan SANDS you'd be a mighty smart lass 3 that you'd be, believe me. With that he stomped heavily and began walking back and forth again. He continued, But before we're through with you, you'll believe in us all right. Before they're through with me, I said to myself, but what did they in- tend doing to me, these atrocious little men who were running loose on our parlor floor, sliding down the ban- nister, and swinging from the chan- delier? They began to advance slowly and I noticed a vicious gleam in their little pixie eyes. Instantly, before I could blink a shivering eyelash, they were on me. A hundred feet began kicking me while another hundred started a fierce shaking campaign. I tried to scream for help, but my voice failed me. Determined to save myself, I blindly reached for the little fellow busily engaged in hammering my shoulder. I squeezed him in my bare hands when suddenly a voice said, Darling, stop thatg wake up l For the first time I looked up to see what I had in my hand. Why, it wasn't a pixie at all. It was a hand, a human hand, in fact it was my mother's hand. Had she turned against me, too? Had she joined forces with the little men? VVhere are theyg where did those horrible little things go ? I said as I got up from the chair and searched beneath the sofa and rugs. Not a single one was in sight. Mother watched me with an amused light in her eyes and said, just who or what do you expect to find under the rug? Believe me, dear, you're merely suf- fering from some nasty dream. Now hurry yourself up to bed, it's getting late and you have to be up early to- morrow. Mother said it was just a dream. A dream, why of course, that's what it was all the while, just a dream. How silly to think it was real. A sigh of relief escaped my lips and I began to laugh. But as I stooped to pick up my slippers, I found lying beside them the tiniest red feather you ever saw. As I lifted it up I wondered, and perhaps always shall, had it been a dream, after all? Now It Is Spring Continued from Page 9 a masculine voice call her name, she said aloud, jack's such a darling. I knew he would see the light if he only gave himself half a chance. And now I love him more than ever. As she started for the landing she murmured, O, I'm so happy I could purr. And without further ado Mrs. John Rich- ards descended the stairs to greet her husband.

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THE FA HE FAN, an exquisite example of Chinese artistry, had been in the window of Hang Lin's curio shop, for as long as she could remember. Binnie loved the way each little jewel caught the sunlight and illuminated the show- case. She had fallen in love with the legends of China. The fan became a symbol of her devotion. Often she found herself overcome by a desire to see it and would walk blocks out of her way for that heartwarming glimpse. Hang Lin, the old Chinaman, had told Binnie's Grandfather Townsley the story of the fan. He, in turn, told Binnie who never tired of its appeal. The fan had been given to an ancient, very beautiful Chinese princess, Loa Sen, by a lover, who felt it would mean more to her for its beauty, than any other gift. Hang Lin treasured it above all the other curios in his shop. Grandfather Townsley, a retired teacher of ancient history and oriental culture, regarded Binnie as his favor- ite grandchild. It was from her grandfather that Binnie inherited her interest in the ancient civilization of 30 was as lonely as Lou Sen By Catherine Harmer, '50 Cathay. When the city high school contest on ancient civilization was announced, Binnie became so excited she forgot the fan, entirely. During the next few weeks, Binnie studied harder than she ever had, for she was out to win. She read her essay to her grandfather before she submitted it. He was genuinely pleased when she put a few of the legends he had told her into it. Ever afterwards, Grandfather Townsley bragged about the night of the awards, when his granddaughter, Binnie, won first prize, a scholarship to the college of her choice, for her exceptionally line essay on China. Everyone of importance to the young writer was there when the mayor pre- sented the prize. WVhen the program was over and the radiant Binnie was leaving with her parents and her grandfather, she met kindly old Hang Lin, waiting in the corridor. Pardon me, little Miss, he murmured, I know I am not so very important as those very kind gentlemen who gave you your scholarship. My gift is not so costly, Continued on Page 44