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

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. 1-: I . V Q f. . ' i fi f 1 . If A - A , 5? Y I I rx: Ai-.. gl. r ' w K iv, 'tv it in , i M - . Stiff: ' ' f'3 f 4'-j:-T ' , 45 J Nh , Q N4 1 '. 2 1 gif.- ,N 9 : I V - 1 -'NES'-W pi, 1. , , - f it 'x b l W'-5' , , f , p I ,. M I I 5 n 'w- if By Catherine McKenna, '51 Illustrated by Suzanne Mayor,

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if t I Storm A Y ENTHUSIASM dwindled slowly as I pushed open the ultra-fashionable door of the ultra- fashionable Fifth Avenue Shoppe. I paused, hovering close to the door, and then, my jaw set in a line of de- termination, I marched staunchly into the store's interior. Before I had completed even a lap of my courage- ous journey, I halted in my tracks, tripped over the edge of a deep luxuri- ous rug and only by dint of acrobatic feat managed to land on my feet. Conscious of the icy stare of the clerk, I resolved to act maturely about this project. No one need know this was the first time I had gone shopping without Mother's assistance. And surely it wasn't necessary to explain I had never been in a Fifth Avenue shoppe. Most of my past shopping sprees had taken place in the adoles- cent Teen Shop or an unglamorous bargain basement. But I saw no rea- son to advertise this plebeian state of affairs by childish conduct. So, looking as demure as I dared, I tried desperately to close the gap in my mouth as I passed through the Fur Salon. Finally, a sigh of relief escaping me, I breezed up to the counter for which I had been searching--Maderm C THE 1951 Sn.vEn SANDS C TA DEL By Rita Rieciuil, '52 oisel1e's Perfume Bar. Clearing my throat, I boldly asked the clerk if she would help me. Much to my chagrin, her eyebrows rose to the nth degree as she appraised me with an air of amused disbelief. What did the little lady want? Something sweet per- haps? No, indeed! I retorted icily. Something terribly, terribly devast- ating. The eyebrows ascended in in- credulity for the second time. Then I was put through successive wafts of Midsummer's Love and Moon Ecstasy in their most pung- ent forms. Gasping, I decided on one brand, Garden of Enchantment, which could be endured without suc- cumbing if I took three quick breaths and then held my breath to the count of ten. But I was nevertheless thrilled at my audacity and ventured to ask the price of this delightful fragrance. It was now time for my brows to rise. I knew this was a shop which carried the best in vogue, but . . . The saleswoman smiled a patroniz- ingly sympathetic smile as I turned away. I was mortitied as I trudged over that dreadful rug and pulled back the more dreadful door of the most dreadful ultra-fashionable Fifth Avenue Shoppe.

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I 42 , HE SMALL house had been closed for ten years. Yet it seemed only yesterday that Kitty had left it, just eighteen and a smiling young graduate of Hallahan. Those ten years had seen the death of her father and mother in a train wreck and an entire new life for her. Stand- ing in the weed-overgrown yard, Kitty could see again the scarlet rosebush, her mother's pride and joy, the green grass young and tender, the white picket fence with the ivy growing over it, and the starched curtains bil- lowing in the breeze. The old apple tree brought many memories flooding back, too. When she was seven she fell out of it g at ten she had a swing from which she might see the world from new heights, at fifteen she re- ceived her first bashful kiss beneath it from the boy next door. You know, Kitty, he had said, I think you are pretty swell. Why, David! I think you're nice too, she had replied. Then came the hesitant kiss, sweet with the blush of youth. Yes, the tree held a great many memories in its leafy boughs. Every nook and cranny of the premises held its own small secrets. I Opening the door, she stepped in- side, half expecting to hear her mo- ther's gay greeting from the kitchen, Is that you, Kitty? I need some things from the store. How many times she had found a million and one excuses not to go 3 now she would have been happy to do the least serv- ice for her. just to see her again! She hurried on, for there was little time left, and she had much to see. In the living room, although bare of superfluous furniture now, she could visualize the wom rug and her old piano. How dusty the staircase was l Yet it was such a short time ago that she had floated down it in a frosty pink gown, ready to go to the prom with Jim, her favorite beau. Mom and Dad were there smiling through misty eyes. What a happy night, the kind to remember for al- waysl A Here are your flowers, Kitty, he had said. You sure look nice! Have a good time, children, and