High School of Commerce - Caduceus Yearbook (Springfield, MA)

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II I G H SCHOOL O ESCAPE David was tired. I must have walked miles and miles.” he thought. His hare brown feet sent up little puffs of scaring.dust as he plodded along the sandy road. It was a hot day, and the sun beat mercilessly down on the little boy’s bright, bare head. He wiped the sweat from his face with the back of one grimy hand. In the other hand he car- ried his shoes. They felt very heavy and sticky in his lingers, and he wished he could throw them away. But some- thing told him perhaps he’d better not. He might need them later. His feet burned with the long, painful trudging they had endured. He longed to sit down and rest, but he didn't dare. There was always the chance that he might be caught and taken back. ”1 can’t go back,’’ he muttered aloud, bright tears suddenly glinting on his lashes. Oh, please, God, don't let me ever go back!” It was a lonely road he was on. Ever since early morning he had been travel- ing. and so far had met no one. Once he heard an automobile chugging in the distance; and from his hiding-place be- hind a clump of bushes, watched it go by. There was a farmer sitting in the front, and a lor of tall milk-cans rattling in back. Milk — the thought of it made him ravenous. He had eaten nothing since daybreak, when he had snatched a chunk of dry bread and a few cold potatoes from the kitchen table. There hadn’t been time to go to the barn for some milk. But now he wished he had risked it. His head felt light and dizzy with hunger and fatigue. His tongue felt swollen and parched, and his lips •vere cracked and dry. Never before had he been so thirsty. He could see farmhouses scattered in the distance with the promise of food and drink under their red-chimneyed roofs. Still, he didn’t dare to approach them. A little boy traveling alone would be asked a lot of questions. His aunt and uncle must have sent out an alarm In now. Not that they cared what became of him, he thought bitterly. He was just some one to work, and beat, and ad- dress insulting remarks to. He’d found out, too, last night when he had lain sleepless in his hard cot, that they had been taking the monthly check that had belonged to him. Drunken, ribald, coarse, they had shouted accusations at one another that chilled the boy to his very bones. Sick, terrified, lonely F CO M M E R c E 1 he had stood all that he possibly could. He had waited only until daylight be- gan to streak the sky; then he had run a wav. Suddenly, drawn up beside him, was a big, black car. For an instant terror gripped him by the throat. There had been no sound on the air to warn him of an approaching car. There had l een nothing but the steady hum of insects, and the occasional whir of a lonely locust. As if drawn by some irresistible force — powerful and compelling — the boy stepped nearer the car. There was a figure, wrapped in something cloudy and dark, sitting in the driver’sseat. A soft, radiant glow was about its head. Please get in,” the figure said. David could not tell whether it was a man or woman. The voice was unlike any he had ever heard — low and sweet. with the power of hidden thunder, and the music of violins muted. He was inside the car, settling into a deep, delicious softness. The car was moving without sound. It was as if they were floating. A cool breeze played over David’s face and body. He felt a deep, pervading sense of peace seep through him. Suddenly, for the first time in his life, lie was wildly, su- premely happy. He wanted to laugh and sing and shout. He thought, with wonder, “I’m not hungry any more — not tired, nor thirsty.” He turned to his strange companion. Who are you? he whispered. The figure turned toward him. A great blinding light shattered the dark- ness. David was caught up in a maze of light and music and infinite beauty. There was a wild, sweet singing in his ears. A thousand rushing winds seem to |X ur past him in a torrent of trium- phant beauty. Then David smiled, a smile that he could feel spreading all over him until he was laughing loud and happily. He stretched out his arms in glad recognition, and felt himself gathered close to the warm protection of a loving heart. Farther and farther into the horizon he was carried — deeper and deeper into the rose and gold of the sunset sky........................ When the small band of men found the body of a little boy a few days later, they marveled at the freshness, the sweetness, and the beauty on the little dead face. When they lifted the pitifully light body, one of the men exclaimed suddenly, Look! There on the ground!” 9 3 8 CADUCEUS They all turned, and saw a soft, shimmering radiance as of spun gold just above the small hollow where the boy had lain. The men watched in breathless awe as the golden haze arose into the summer air — higher, higher, and higher until it vanished into the sky. JUST PLAIN ME I dream of things I’d like to l e — A bird, a flow’r, a tall pine tree - A river rushing to the sea, — Anything but just plain me. And yet when I come home and see My mother’s face shine happily, My books — my friends— my brothers three, I’m awfully glad I’m just plain me. LOVE Love is a star that blazes on high, Then fades into mist in a storm-tossed sky. Love is the laughter, the pain and the tears— The pattern of life—and the world— and the years. Love is a song that shatters the air In fragments of colors, glinting and rare— A moment of ecstasy—showers of light— So soon to be gone with the coming of night. Love is a game that people must play With more selfless giving than taking away. Its rules are exacting, its penalties grave, But—oh, what a challenge to those who are brave! MY CREED I love to watch the evening star that winks and blinks above the hill. It smiles a greeting from afar, as ’round about the night lies still. I love to sit beneath a tree and look far up into the sky. And see its blue serenity that does not ask or reason why. But sometimes even these are stirred by dark’ning clouds or thunder heard. So why should we—oh, mortals small —be so surprised when raindrops fall? Each happy moment of this life is shadowed by some earlier pain, Enriched by suffering, toil, and strife. The sun will always shine again. ( 11 )

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CADUCEUS — 193 ESCAPE Bright thoughts, like flames, burn in my brain And sting the corners of my eyes. While in my heart the deep dark pain Of mcm’ry stirs: and pale ghosts rise To stand and stare and lift their hands In hopeless, tragic, mute appeal, Until I feel the hard, tight bands That hold my soul in walls of steel Snap sharply; then in upward flight My soul wings free into the night. ECSTASY Into my hands I cup the light Of sunshine,warm and sharp and bright, And drink its shining beauty deep. Over my body, waiting still. 1 feel the moonlight slip and spill. While all the world is fast asleep. Upon my face I feel the splash Of raindrops in their mad. sweet dash, Their slanting fingers silver-tipped. Into my ears I hear a sigh Of a running wind, as it rushes by And dries my cheeks, tear-dripped. SANCTUARY Within myself I have a space, A small and welcome resting-place. Where I can close my eyes and be Alone, apart, a spirit free. When all the world’s a dreary round Of people, noise, and empty sound. I shut myself within, and find This hidden haven in my mind. There’s warmth inside, and beauty, too. With dear and chuckling thoughts of you. And throughout all its blessings twined, Is peace with God and all mankind. I WONDER I wonder, when we’re far apart, If there's a place inside your heart That you keep safe, and warm and sweet, For thoughts of me to find retreat? Do you, like me, when we’re apart, Falk to that me inside your heart? And whisper things you dare not say When we’re together for a day? 8 — HIGH S C II O O A POET MUSES by Henrietta Decker LAUGHTER Rich laughter bubbles cool and sweet And flows a rushing, silver stream. Its beauty streaking bright and fleet In liquid flash of rippled gleam. Like healing balm it wets cracked lips. Gone stiff and dry with sorrow’s heat; And deep in barren hearts it drips Slow music’s soft and lulling beat. A WISH Above me far I saw a star That blinked and shone Around me stood A fragrant wood That sighed alone I wished that I Were in the sky A thing apart That I might see The mystery Of heaven’s heart. And then I heard The darkness stirred By mother’s call . . I saw her face, Her tender grace, Her teardrops fall . . . And suddenly It came to me How much I’d miss If I should go, No more to know Her goodnight kiss. MORNING The sun shoots arrows, golden-bright. In swiftly stabbing points of light That prick the slumber of the earth To waken life and day’s rebirth. The wind breathes music, strange and sweet; Then hurries by on winged feet To tangle in the fragrant hair Of tall trees laughing in the air. From chimney-tops grey fingers twist And curl into a thin, pale mist. Then hide behind thick, creamy crowds Of froth and lace -- the morning clouds. ( 10) OF COMMERCE AWAKENING A star came out, and in its light I saw the magic of the night. A su beam shone, and in its gold I saw the wings of dawn unfold. A rosebud oj ened; deep inside, A lone dew-drop had crept to hide. I heard your voice, and felt the beat Of wings against my heart’s retreat. I saw your eyes, and as I gazed Your love for me leaped up and blazed. I could not speak nor understand — Your life — a rose — was in my hand. OCTOBER A mellow moon, a sudden mist, A warm brown earth the sun has kissed, A wild sweet wind, a blazing sun, A hearth-fire when the day is done. A tall, proud tree, its branches stripped Of glory, as the leaves have slipped In rustling whispers, soft and slow. Upon the waiting ground below, Blue grapes in clusters on the vine, And apples red that taste like wine. The smell of woodsmoke in the air. A world that’s laughing everywhere. A schoolboy, whistling in the street A tune that’s young and gay and sweet. A dream, a laugh, a sudden sigh - And summer breathes a last goodby. REMEMBRANCE You came to me in glad surprise With starlight tangled in your eyes. The scent of night was in your hair In tumbled fragrance soft and rare. You came to me in morning mist With laughter in your throat, dawn- kissed; Your hands upcurled to form a cup Of golden dew-drop wine to sup. You came to me in fresh, warm rain, When violets left their purple stain, A strange dark bruise against your heart— While magic tore the world apart. You swept into my life—a song, A rushing wind, a torrent strong; Then went away, to leave just this— The aching wonder of your kiss.

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CADUCEUS — 193 SUNLIGHT Derry thought he was standing be- fore an open window, feeling the morn- ! ing sun hot and pricking on his skin. Laughing delightedly, he stretched his hands forth, letting the slanting rays drip gold upon them. A soft breeze blew past him, bringing with it the scent of flowers, and fresh, damp earth. All night it had been raining. Derry had lain in his small bed, shiver- ing with delight at the soft pit-pat of the rain on the roof overhead. The safe, warm darkness of his room was a thing to be enjoyed, slowly and deeply, like j licking a stick of candy, savoring each taste, making it last as long as possible. Last night the walls of his room J seemed friendly, not as they sometimes were, tall and ominous, looming above him, hemming him in. At such times he would find himself sweating in sheer terror, but he never cried out nor called to anyone — especially to his father. He knew how his father felt about j him. The stubborn way Father had re- fused to look at the still, rounded humps that were Derry’s legs beneath the sheets showed how aware he was of them. Father had always tried too hard I to be bright and gay and nonchalant | when he came into Derry’s room. The darkness behind his eyes he couldn’t hide, nor the uncertainty of his tone. So many times Derry had closed his eyes and wished desperately that he might be able to get over to the window. Just once — even if he hat! to crawl — just so long as he got there. He had pretended to Nurse, to his father, and even to Dr. Evans that he didn’t want to look out of the window. He’d told them that he wasn’t interested in the outside. That, he knew, had been a source of worry to Nurse and Dr. Evans. He hated to hurt them, but he would rather die than be carried to the window like a baby. He wanted to get there by himself. Now, suddenly, he was there. How it had happened he didn’t know — per- haps because he had wished so very hard to stand in the sunlight. Nurse had told him once that if he wished hard enough for something, and prayed hard enough for it, his wish would come true. The room was very still. In the silence he could hear the hard thudding of his heart. He put his hand over his chest to still even that sound. There was something about this silence that was 8 — HIGH SCHOOL so exquisite, like nothing he had ever known before. The pool of sunshine that spilled through the window seemed to grow wider and wider, until all before him was a golden haze. 1 ie was golden; the world was golden; his heart was golden. “I am joy; I am life; I am the sun- light!” The words were like a chant coming from somewhere. No longer could he feel his body. He was air; he was clouds; he was mist. There was a wild, sweet singing in his ears. The golden mist became a shower of sparkling lights, sharp and pointed, stinging him. He felt the surge of life throughout his body, the sudden tin- gling in his legs. Now there was a mo- tion, a power in those legs that for so long had been so still. He could feel it surging higher — higher — higher — His eyes opened slowly to meet the glare of the sun. He had not been at the window after all. He was still lying flat on his back in bed, his arms out- spread. Nurse was bending over him. | her face kind and gentle. He noticed the dark mole on the left side of her chin. He turned his head toward the basin of warm water, the white square of soap, and the thick towels laid out for his morning bath. Nurse was cheery, commenting gaily on the beauty of the morning after I such a stormy night. She bustled about energetically as she talked, stripping off his hot pajamas, sponging water [ over his face. He lay there, passive. I with that peculiar feeling of power in his legs. “I must be still dreaming.” he thought. My legs don’t really feel like this.” Now a little tingle burned in his toes i He lay very still, lest it go away. Suddenly Nurse screamed. Her scream rose to a shout. She left the room in a rush, calling for someone. His toes moved! Moved, I tell you!” He could hear voices in the hall, Nurse's high and excited; Dr. Evans' low and urgent. Above him the doctor stood, fingers probing over his legs. His shrewd eyes missed nothing. There, again — he did it again!” Nurse shouted. There was a movement, almost im- perceptible, but it was a movement. A great light was on the doctor’s face. Nurse was laughing, but tears were slipping and sliding down her face to drop, hot and wet, on Derry’s hand. He lifted his hand, wet with Nurse’s | ( 12) OF CO M MERC E tears, and looked at it. The teardrops glistened golden-bright in the sunlight that flooded the room. I’m really going to walk,” he thought, with a sudden wonder. He remembered those words, I am joy; I am life; I am sunlight!” He said them, watching the tears that sparkled on his hand. SOLITUDE The room is dark and still; Outside I hear the raindrops spill In gentle clatter on the street. The silence, thick, and fraught With tiny, whirling wings of thought, Lies slumbrous in its own heartbeat. The fire glows red; its flames Leap high in twisting golden frames. And flicker shadows on the wall. The moments, bright and fleet, Slip shining by on silken feet In answer to some unknown call. PICTURES A clear, still pool—beside it, you— And sudden sunshine splashing through The green-leaved tangle of the trees. A long, curved road —and at its end A sunset sky where colors blend In gold and purple harmonies. The sharp, stark outline of a tree With arms outstretched in silent plea Against a gray and smoky sky. The swift, bright dash of rain in spring, Its clean, lined beauty glimmering In silver spears shot slanting by. The scarlet maple, bold and gay, Red-headed goddess on display, A blazing glory in the sun. My mother standing, bathed in light; Her lovely face, flushed warm and bright, Bent over me when day is done. SIMPLE THINGS The hidden laughter of a brook, The friendly pages of a book, The far-off whistle of a train That rushes through the falling rain; The glory of the setting sun, The happiness in work well done, The fragrant smell of new-baked bread, A pleasant word that someone said, An hour spent in friendly talk, And afterwards, the homeward walk— When we can love these simple things We’ve found the peace that living brings.