Central Intermediate School - Memories Yearbook (Ottawa, IL)

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211365 5 PDLYSCDPE 3 2-..-119265 li233fI GROWING UP By ANNA CAMPBELL I have a deep, dark secret to divulge. One which you have never heard before, and one which will probably be a turning point in your life. It's this, never grow up. Let no one beguile you with words of the exquisite joys of grown-up-dom. There are none. Aim rather to preserve your youth until that time when you shall reach the state of eternal bliss,-old age. For years I have been disillusioned. Experience is the best teacher, but her prices are exorbitant, and as a parting gift I bequeath you this priceless information gratis. When I was a child, my greatest ambition was to grow up. Countless times have I clenched my hands hard, shut my eyes tightly and grit my teeth on this expression, just wait till I'm grown up, then I'll show them. Many indignities did I suffer during my early childhood which I thought no one would dare inflict upon me when I reached the age of maturity. Often at the end of my nightly Now I lay me down to sleep, I would fervently add and Jesus make me grow up in a big hurry. Mother would ask me what were the words which I usually repeated so devoutly, yet rather in- distinctly at the end of my prayers. Just praying to be a big girl, Mother, was always my reply. Of course Mother never knew the wealth of meaning behind those simple words. I used to think the indignities of childhood were insufferable for the memories of a certain little stiff brush with a hard, black wooden back were both painful and vivid. Furthermore, I was given little choice in the selec- tion of my food, my hour of retiring, my wardrobe or even my playmates. Many times did I rebel against these indignities. I would console myself, however, with the thought that when I grew up, I would wear a big hat with sweeping plumes and flowers, beautiful lace dresses of my own choos- ing, high heeled slippers, and all the other adornments of a young lady. I would choose my own associates and drink black coffee to my heart's content. I had a very vital reason for wanting to grow up. I shudder when I think of the many times I cringed under the distasteful task of dishwash- ing. At home and abroad this task fell to my lot. When I grew up, I planned to live in a hotel, or perhaps use paper dishes on all occasions, not just for picnics as Mother did. Another grown up privilege which always aroused my indignation was the use of the old age before beauty adage which was applied to me quite frequently. I suffered and longed for the time when I should be grown up, then I would exert my authority. Ah, little did I realize that these problems were mere premonitions of the great- er ones to come. To me, like to many other unfortunate individuals, this realization came too late. I know now that being grown up offers very few compensa- tions. The joys of childhood are innumerable in comparison. There is no absolute freedom for the grown-up. He has to adhere even more strictly to laws written and unwritten. He is admonished, restrained, interfered

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fi 151526-2: Z PDLYSCQFVE E :1-19262 f232j Mrs. Harmon had been staring at him fixedly. She did not answer him now, but turned back to the ironing board and began ironing slowly and heavily. And have you ever regretted it? No, I knew it. And your folks came round to see your side of it all right, too. ''Margaret-Margaret,-they-oh-were married last Saturday, Mar- garet,-at Eau Claire 5 but-but I thought-maybe we could-well, sort of fix up a-a pretty wedding here-maybe. ' There were tears in Margaret Harmon's eyes, and a tightening in her throatg but she went on ironing the ruffles on Ruth's blue dress. Her voice was thick as she answered the old man. I wish I had known it Saturdayg the lilacs were so pretty then,-I guess, though, the bridal wreath will be out in a few days. .T-.1-CJ..-TT-il SYMBOL By HUBER SAMMIS Silvered sheen of glittering glass, A sparkling diamond ring, Platinum mount and opal border- Barbaric little thing. O-i-1-. SONG OF THE RIVER By HUBER SAMMIS Rest on my bosom, the river sings, Sleep on my tree-shaded banks, Drift on my current, enjoying it all, To realize my beauty is thanks. My moonlights are yours, the river sings, The rose-tinted sunset and dawn, Take them and keep them, enjoying them all, Let trouble and worry be gone.

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ggggefi.-its PDLYSCQIFE 3 Iri-P19262 L2341 with, loaded with insurmountable tasks, and dictated to until he longs for the carefree days of childhood. I beseech you to heed this warning before your condition becomes hopeless. If you have yearnings to be grown-up, banish them. Preserve your youth. Strive rather for old age, for never until then are your great- est hopes realized. Not until then can you do anything you please and merely be called eccentric. The philosopher was right who said old age enjoys many privileges which are denied the youth. Long not to be grown up, but to attain old age, then you will come into your own. 1111- TO.TT..T THE GREAT MOTHER By DORAN THARP I am the Earth. Out of me you are born. Even though you are but a short time away, I miss you. But I am patient, I wait. You must soon come back to me For I am the Earth. I am the mother of all, all. No matter what you are, Or what you have done, I shall take you back, For I am the great mother I hold out my arms to you always, Ready to fold you back into the great cool breast of me.