Columbia School - Hourglass Yearbook (Rochester, NY)

Page 57 text:

even though always tired. It is dark now and her father should be coming home from his tire- some iob selling magazines on the downtown street corners. She turns and searches the dark, narrow street for his figure. Five minutes pass. Ten. Then he comes into sight. How tired his face looks and yet how kind and understand- ing! She wonders if he hates the tenements and small grassless yards as much as she. He turns up the walk, bends down and kisses her on the forehead. She follows him into the house. A few minutes later, the family sits down for their supper. There are six children besides herself. She picks up her fork and then puts it down again. Between her parents has iust passed a proud and tender and loving look . Theirdaugh- ter suddenly realizes of what they are proucl, and strangely enough, she also is proud of her family and their life. As she turns and looks happily upon all of them, she picks up her fork. Jane Knight, '55 THE DOLL THAT SAVED THE DAY Nan Dennis was scratching in the dirt with a stick. N. D. Then the date - I775. There! That was how her sampler would look. With roses all around the border. Nan, come here, called her mother. Nan ran into her house. Her mother continued, l have had word thatyour father was captured by theRedcoats. He is in a campalmost a mile from here. His general has sent me a very im- portant note which is in code. He also gave me this doll. You see, its head screws off. It is hollow inside. Listen carefully. The note I will put inside . You must go to the camp where your father is being held . Secretly unscrew the top of the doll and slip him the note. He will be able to read. it. Do not let anyone see you do this, even the other prisoners . I have packed your lunch, for you must go now. Nan put on her sweater, got the doll and her lunch, and kissed her mother goodbye. She started down the road feeling very much afraid . All sorts of terrible possibilities could happen. She shuddered! It was getting hot. Nan took off her sweater. The-road was awfully hot and dusty. Nan decided to eat lunch. She was so thirsty! At three o'clock she reached the camp . There were little tents among the trees. Where are you going? asked a man pok- ing his head out of a tent. l'm going to see my father who is being held here, she answered. Where is the pris- oners' tent? The man showed her and she ran in . Fa- ther, Father, when will you come home? she asked as she burst into his arms. l've started a sampler and you must see it! When the war is over, I will come home, he replied, and then added, lf ever it is! Nan secretlyunscrewed the head. Even her father hadn't noticed. She slipped her fingers down into the doll and brought out the paper. Then she screwed up the head. It worked! Nan then held her father's hand, putting the paper into it. After a while, Nan kissed her father good- bye and ran out. She ran skipping happily down the road with the empty doll. She had delivered the message and her mother had promised a cherry pie when she returned . Julie Harding Grade 7 WHICH TROPHY? ltwas Friday night, the night before the most importantevent in the Alaskan year that is, the event most important to the Alaskan boys. Once a year on the last Saturday in December a big dog race was held . Only boys who were between the ages of twelve and eighteen and who had owned and cared for their own dog teams for at least three months could participate in this race. The race this year was especiallyimportant to Rob Jackson, an American boy who had been living in Alaska for three years. When he was eleven, he had come to Alaska with his parents and his two younger sisters. The family had liked their new home so much that they had decided to settle down and remain there per- manently, much to Rob's delight. This year was the first year he would be eligible for the race,

Page 56 text:

stands. He walked deiectedly, his head bent over. Even theflashing of the bold neon lights could not penetrate this mood. A drooping form, he walked up the old hillof the city to the house where he had been born. The street was changed, too. Where was the tree by the last bend in the road where Cousin Angelo had had the mishap with the basket of olives? Soon appeared a bullet-beaten structure, empty and neglected . Passino moved about the house, cherishing everysmall bitof fami l iarity. As evening drew her shade and the declining sun set a blanket of soft, rich jewels upon the Mediterranean, his thoughts began to unravel . He had awaited these moments for almost a half century, but now, what was it that he felt? Until this moment, Passino had thought of Italy as his home and had often dreamed of the ioy of returning. But the reality was different, not as he had imagined it would be. His thoughts turned back across the Atlantic. Down on the next level of the hill, a bell tolled twice, and soon voices from the old orphanage proclaimed with exaltation the glorious Ave Maria , the same Ave Maria he had listened to in his small church in Amer- ica. As if an angel had blown a response to Passino, he felt theanswer in his heart. Amer- ica was his home too. Penny Critikos, '55 DISCOVERY The seventh house in the long row of tene- ments is hers. She is a small thin girl, red hair trying to curl around her delicate, rather peeked, face. Slumped on the front step, thoughts run through her mind. Resentful, sullen thoughts. How she hates this shabby street. On the broken cement sidewalk a man shuffles his way home. He is her next-door neighbor and she has never seen him look any- thing but tired and wan. A quick pity reaches her when she notices him, but it is quickly blotted out by scorn . lt isn't her fault that he leads the kind of life he does. lf he had tried hard enough, things would not have been as they are now. He turns wearily up the short dirt path leading to the door, by which some spring flowers are trying bravely to survive. The man stops and looks tenderlydown atthem. He stands there for a few minutes and then, as if on impulse, stoops down, all ofa sudden no longer tired, and gathers two or three. Then on into the dingyinterior he goes, carrying the pitiful little bouquet as if itwere made ofgold. The small girl looks after him with a mix- ture of pity and scorn. But her eyes are drawn from him bytwo small boys a few houses down. They are fighting and then the smaller one runs crying to his home. The other boy stands watch- ing him for a moment and then runs after him, calling. The one who is crying stops and turns. The older child comes up to him, followed by a small brown mongrel pup. The girl watches with wonder as their differences are forgotten in their simple ioy over this dog. Can it be that the life here on the street, on which she has lived as long as she can remember, has its own joys and moments of happiness? No, she quickly puts this passing thought out of her mind . There is no joy in their dreary life. Across the street, at one of the most run- down houses of the entire street, a poor boy selling magazines pauses, and then rings the doorbell. A shabby woman comes to the door. She looks compassionately at the poor hungry- looking young boyand invites him in. In a few minutes he emerges, pocketing some change and wearing a grateful smile. It is getting dark and the lights are begin- ning to go on in the houses. From her seat on the still warm cement block, she can see into the houses clearly. The windows with the cracked panes reveal bare light bulbs which shed a ghastly and terrifyingly realistic light on the water-streaked wallpaper and empty bookcases. She tears her eyes away, stinging with tears ofself-pity, and thinks passionately that she will escape from here sometime and never come back. She will forget all these people. What did they ever do for her? Had they ever had any happiness, or brought hap- piness into anyone's life? She thinks again. No, her parents are kind,

Page 58 text:

because until now he had not owned adog team of his own. But now he not only had his own team, but also a beautiful sled and harness, all given to him by his Alaskan friend, Tau. Two more dogs were gifts from his motherand father, and the fifth dog, his leader, he had rescued from a man who had been treating the dog cruelly. As soon as he awoke on the dayof the race, Rob ran to the window and looked out to see what the weather was like. It was a perfect day! The sun was outand there was not a cloud in the sky. The snow on the ground glistened like silver, and the smal l snow crystals twinkled like stars as the sunbeams danced across them. Rob glanced at his clock. It was seven-thirty. There were exactlythree hours until racetime, and he had much to accomplish before then. As soon as he finished eating his breakfast he ran out to feed his dogs, brush them until they shone like the winter sun, and polish his harness once more . Finally he was ready to harness his team. When he finished putting on the harn- esses, he fastened onto the leader a tri-colored ribbon. The colors were his colors for the race, red, white, and blue, the colors of the Amer- ican flag . Rob drove his dogs slowly to the place where the race was going to be held, and at a signal from the starter led them up to the gate at his position, which was number four, the second position away from the far edge. All the boys were there by now and the starter told them to get ready to begin . Rob wet his lips nervously and tightened his grip on the handles of the sled, for this was it. This was the moment he had looked forward to for months, the moment when his team could run in the race. Then suddenly the starter's gun rang out, and they were off! From the very beginning Rob's team and the team next to his were out in front. Number Five was slightly ahead of Rob when suddenly its lead dog stumbled in a rut on the track and fell, tipping thesled over . Horrified, Rob watched the whole team pile up, and saw the boy thrown into the middle of the track, in the way of the oncoming sleds. By the time the other racers saw the disaster it would be too late for them to stop. But if Rob should stop to rescue the boy, all chances of his winning the race would be lost. Even as he thought this, Rob was automatically slowing down his dogs, for he knew what he had to do. He stopped his team and ran back to remove the boy from the track iust before the other three teams rounded the corner to finish the race. Rob knew he had made the right choice, but that didn't much help the sorrow he felt as he saw another boy receiving the trophy for winning the race. But then, suddenly, a voice boomed out over the loud speaker and said, After some discussion, the judges have unani- mously decided to award a special trophyto Robert Jackson, in consideration for his for- feiting the race to save another participant. The man went on to say more, but his voice was drowned out in the cheering thatfollowed his announcement. As Rob heard this he knew that the trophy he had won would mean more to him than the other prize ever could have meant. .Ionatha Marsland, '57 IF I WERE A TREE If I were a tree On this cold winter day, I would shiver and shake And scream in my way, I would whistle so sharply That folks might say, What a blizzardy, horrible Blustery day! But I would always enioy, If I were a tree, The voices of children Ringing with glee, As they shake from my branches The light, fluffy snow, Which coats them all over With shimmering glow. Claire Hawkins, '57