Columbus School for Girls - Topknot Yearbook (Columbus, OH)

Page 33 text:

Top-Knot One afternoon I was talking to Johnny-he was the youngest man there, just a mere boy. I-le was telling me about his mother and his sweetheart back home, and how glad he was that he would soon be with them again. They would only love him the more because of the horribly dis- figured face. Vlfhile we were talking, lVla'amselle walked through the ward, generously bestowing smiles and cheerful words as she passed. In her hand was the little Bible and the cross,- and on her finger was the strange ring. Johnny followed her with loving eyes, then turned to me and said: H 'Isn't the little lVlam'selle sweet?' Then lowering his voice, he mused, 'But I wonder why she always goes out just at this time every afternoon. Do you know that she has been at this hospital for three years, and they say that she has never missed an afternoon? Everyone wonders about it, but of courseno one has ever followed her. We all respect and love her too much to pry into anything that she doesn't wish to reveal.' We went 'on talking for some time, but nothing more was said about lVlam'selle. Weeks passed and I grew so accustomed to her one peculiarity and was so busy, that I thought no more about it, un- til one day I saw something that left me more puzzled than ever. It had been a hard day at the hospital. Some of the dearest and bravest there had 'gone Wcst'. Among them was Johnny, who would never see his sweetheart again until the Great I-Iereafter. I had written such brave and sad farewell letters for some of them. Oh, it had been hard to do that, but it had been harder to write the bright, cheerful letters for the ones who did not realize that they would never go back home. Iwas worn out with the strain of it all, and decided to go for a little walk. I It was a beautiful, balmy day. The softly shining sun, the spring-y smell in the air, the grow- ing plants all about seemed to revive me with the realization that no matter how hard the winter, spring must follow. I wandered aimlessly about for a little while, filling my lungs with the good fresh air, and let- ting my weary eyes rest on the beauty about me. Suddenly I stopped short, listening intently. Surely that was a human voice I heard! Or was it only the babble of the brook? I hurried on to the tiny woods in front of me. Yes, it was a voiceg I was sure of it now. Entering the miniature forest, I had taken only a few steps when before me I saw a secluded little clearing, a spot of perfect peace. A little brook murmured its way along through flower-sprinkled banks, and the rays of the setting sun coming through the trees, cast long shadows over the velvety grass. All this was not strange, but there, kneeling on the grass, the tears streaming down her face, the Bible and the cross clasped tightly to her bosom, was the little Main-selle. It was her voice that I had heard. She was praying, praying with impassioned longing. Oh, loving Father, keep my beloved one safe. Let him abide in the shadow of Thy wings, and if it be Thy will, bring him back to me when it is all over.' I did not wait to hear any more, but crept silently away, and went back to the hospital. I told no one of what I had seen, it would have been like betraying a sacred trust. , Naturally, I often thought of this and wondered, but I did not learn any more about it for many weeks. Mam'selle still left every afternoon, and each day when she came back she looked a little sadder. She was gone longer, too. In fact she was never gay any more, although she was per- haps even sweeter to make up for this. One night I was lying on my bed in my bare little room, when I heard a knock at my door. After I murmured 'Comef the door opened, and in Walked the little lVlam'sell.e She sat down by my bed and said: 'Peggy,you are very young, my dear, but you have seen suffering and sorrow and have not grown bitter. You are still the same sweet girl that you were when you came, and I love you.' A sob came into her voice, but she choked it back, and went on: 'That is why I have come to ask you to do something for me.' As she stopped lo wipe the tears away, I said: 'Dear little Mamlselle, don't you know that anyone in the hospital would do anything on earth for you? Tell me what it is, and I will do mv best.' She gathered herself together and a great calm settled down upon her as she went on H 'My dear, I suppose you have noticed that I always leave the hospital every afternoon--'iust before sunset. I know that everyone has wondered about it, but I could not explain. I want you to know about it though, my dear.' 31

Page 32 text:

Top-Knot The Eragnnziking I was gloriously, perfectly happy. And why shouldn't 'I have been happy? The war was over and Peggy was back. The two things for which I had prayed every night and morning for two years had come to pass at last. Of course, you must understand by this time that Peggy was my very bestest friend, who had been serving over there. for two whole years. To be sure, it wasn't quite the same old Peggy--her real name was Nlargaret, but everybody called her either Peggy or Sun- beam-g she was just a little thin and worn, just a little less gay and happy-go-lucky, just a little nicer and a little sweeter. There was a new tenderness about her too. I had noticed it first in her glance at the peculiar ring she wore, when Bob had asked, her about it. Tears had come into her eyes at first: then she had laughed and turned it aside with, Oh, it's just a curiosity I picked up in Paris. But I, who was her best friend, knew that the ring held some unusual signihcance in her eyes. There was some story connected with it, some story too sacred for every curious ear. So as we sat there in her cosy room, talking about everything and everybody, as girls will do after a long separation, I kept glancing at the ring and wondering. It was in the shape of a dull gold dragon with a tiny ruby eye. Finally I made up my mind at least to give Peggy a chance to tell me about it. So I drawled out, Oh Peg, what a peculiar ring! Do let me see it. Much to my surprise, when I started to take it from her finger, she jerked her hand back and burst out: No, no, don't do that! Can't you see it well enough without taking it off? As I examined the ring, I felt her hand tremble, and looking up, saw tears and a far-away look in her eyes. A That ring has a story, Betty dear, she said. Would you care to hear it? Indeed I should, I nodded, That is, if you wish to tell me about it. I do, because you are my best friend, and if anything should ever happen to me, I want you to have the ring. After a moment of hesitation, she began: The first person I met outside of Paris, was Mademoiselle Marie Derrior. She was a little French woman about twenty-nine or thirty years old, I imagine, with the sweetest face I have ever seen. With a kind smile and charming manners she welcomed me, a young and inexperienced girl, bringing nothing except willing hands and a desire to help. As she clasped my hands in hers, I noticed that she wore a very unusual ring. It was a tiny gold dragon with a ruby eye. After a few preliminaries, she took me into the ward. I stopped at the door, aghast at the sight before me. A seemingly interminable row .of white beds stretched on each side of the long, long room. Each one embraced its load of pam, and here and there was a wheel chair holding an armless or a legless piece of a man. At first the men did not see us, but when they did, the faces of those suffering men broke out into such smiles that it seemed like sunshine bursting through a cloud, and those who were able cried out joyously. ' 'I-lere comes the little lVIam'selle.' As she took me down between the rows of beds, telling the men that here was a girl from home to write their letters for them and to help them along in any way she could, their eyes shone like stars with love for me. As the busy days passed, I learned to love her just as much as the men did. She was always gentle, always cheerful, never too busy to do something for one of 'her boys' I said she was always cheerful, didn't I? Well, I shall have to take that back, or at least modify it a little. Every day, just before sunset, she left the hospital for a walk. She always carried her little Bible and her cross, and there was always an excited, hopeful look on her dear face. She was al- ways gone about an hour, but when she returned, the excitement and hopefulness had all disappeared. and in their place was a profound sadness. But in a few minutes after her return, she was her old cheerful self again. I never thought much about this daily disappearance until I had been there for some time. Then I began to think it rather strange. Why did she always go at the same time? Why did she always carry the little Bible? Why was she always happy when she left and sad when she re- turned? 30

Page 34 text:

Top-Knot U 'When I was a little girl, my only companion was a boy, Jacques, about two years older than myself. We used to play together all the time, like brother and sister. Our favorite haunt was a cosy clear space in the tiny woods near here, where a happy brook laughed its way through the forest. When we were only tiny tots, we named it the Stream of Happiness. As we .grew up, the brother- and-sisterly attitude began to change, and after my parents died about five years ago, I knew that I had only jacques, and that I loved him more than my life. We were so happy after I had promised, there by the Stream of I-lappiness, to become his wife. But then the war came, and Jacques bade me farewell by the little brook, whose song was not happy any more. When he left me, he said that he would come back someday, and the little stream would again sing of happiness for us. As he kissed me farewell, he slipped this dragon ring on my finger, as the symbol of the tie that bound us so closely together. I have never ,seen him since, and I have not heard from him for three months, but I have never taken the ring from my finger, and every afternoon for almost four years, I have gone to the Stream of Happiness to pray for him, hoping each time that he would be there. He has never come, but wherever he is, I know that he loves me.' 'And now, Peggy, I have been ordered to the front. I feel that I shall never return, and would you, could you, go every day to the little brook, so that if he comes, some one will be there to meet him?' My eyes were full of tears as I told her that of course I would go. A glad light broke over her face. She slipped the dragon from her finger and said, 'I want you to have this, at least until he comesf As she put it on my finger, I threw my arms about her neck, and with a kiss sealed the sacred trust she had imparted to me. The next day the little lVIam'selle left. A great cloud seemed to settle over the hospital. I did my best to take her place, but no one could ever do that. We had just got back into the old routine when the awful news came. The hospital where lVIam'selle was had been boomedg every man and woman had been killed. I still kept on going to the Stream of Happiness. I did not think that Jacques would ever come, yet every time I went I was Hlled with dread. What should I say to him if he did come? How could I tell him that all the waiting and longing had been in vain? One day he came. The instant I stepped into the woods, I knew that he was there. I tried to control my trembling, and walked on to the clearing. Y es, there he was, .lying on the bank of the Stream of Happiness. It seemed like mockery. His face was so thin, so white: one sleeve of his faded blue uniform hung limp at his side. As I entered, he jumped up. I-lis face flooded with heavenly joy, but when he saw who it was, the awfullest sadness I have ever seen, took its place. U 'Are you Jacques?' I faltered. 'Yesf It was a strong, deep voice that answered me. 'Yes, but you aren't my Marie, my little sweetheart. I have waited and longed for four years. Do you know her? Wl1e1'e is she?' I-lis voice rose to a cry of intense passion, tearing my heart strings with the agony of it all. H 'Yes, I knew her, Jacques. I was her best friencl,' and I held out my hand as proof. Wheli he saw the ring, he grasped my hand with both of his thin, emaciated ones, and cried: U 'Where is she? Where is she9' 'Jacquesf I faltered, my heart aching, 'God is merciful. Someday in I-lis Great Eternity, you will meet on the banks of another and a truer Stream of I-lappinessf For a moment I thought I had killed him. A storm seemed to pass over his poor bodyg then a terrible peace Hooded his face. In a voice filled with deepest sorrow, he said: 'Thank you for coming. Can't you tell me anything more about ,her?' The way he said 'her'! The depth, the pathos, the reverence seemed to put a halo around the word. So I told him all I could, and then I knew that he wanted to be alone. I slid the ring from my finger and handed it to him. Before I could turn to leave, he grasped my hand and cried: 'No, nog she loved you, and I want you to wear it always, for her sake and for mine.' I-Ie slipped the little dragon back, and reverently bowing, kissed the hand that held the sacred treasure. Since that day, Betty dear, it has never left my finger. NI. B. A. '32