Glass High School - Crest Yearbook (Lynchburg, VA)

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THE ORITIO 157 The Babe in the manger, her little J eannot gazed at her, and in its eyes was a pleading, Good will to man and peace on earth. The bitter tears of old age coursed down the seams in her face. I have sinned, I have sinned! 'The Lord gave His only Son that the sins of the world might be forgiven' I On her knees she went to Francois Thebant, and on her knees she begged forgiveness. Pardon! Ze bon Dieu has forgiven me. Do you forgive me, too 3 With her own hands Francoise raised her. Come, go home to Za reveillon with me. For us the joy of peace, for the young jollity' and feasting. The ice of hate melted from about her heart and peace filled her soul. The Cure saw and thanked the Lord, Gl0ire ci Dieu dans le cial et pwix SUXI' Za terra aux homm-es de bon volante. A TREE What a wonderful thing is a tree! There it stands with its branches outstretched to all the world, as if asking alms. It will stand there, perhaps, for centuries. When spring comes the tree takes on new life. It turns a rich green and stays so until its leaves become autumnal shades of red, brown, and yellow. How beautiful is the tree when it is colored this way! As autumn goes the very life of the tree seems to die with it, only to wait until spring again comes and its life is awakened. Poems are made by fools like me, But only God can make a tree. V. Porfrs.

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156 THE URITIC' laid aside a little for our old age. I nursed him through his long illness, and with his dying breath he blessed me. I owe him nothing! Ah, M. Ze Cure, it is no use. My husband through all his life could not prevail on me to forgive her. My son through all his life could not prevail on me. I hate with an everlast- ing hatred, and I will not, cannot, forgive. She rose and opened the door, he passed through and stood on the other side, his black robe and hat silhouetted 'against the snow. With raised cross he spoke. 'Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who tres- pass against us! My good woman, on this night we celebrate an event- the birth of our Lord Jesus Christ, 'and the Lord gave His only Son that the sins of the world might be forgiven !' I will see thee at midnight mass! Peace be with thee ! But peace was not with her. She sat by the waning fire and her fingers plucked nervously at her apron. Often she said to herself, And the Lord gave His only Son that the sins of the world might be forgiven. At le messe de minuit she knelt at the church. Before her, in a manger, lay the image of the little Christ-child, Ze petit N 061, and in her ears rang the Words, And the Lord gave His only Son that the sins of the World might be forgiven. The Cure elevated. the host. The acolytes struck the bell. The bell to the old Woman intoned, Forgive-forgive. Half startled, she raised her head, and as her eyes rested on the Babe in the manger she saw, what she had not seen before, that the Babe was her little Jeannot. She gazed and marvelled. The choir sang, C'est pour nous tous qu'iZ n-wit, qufil souffre meurt. Peuple, debout! chante ia delivmncefi

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158 THE ozezrzc '15e1tp's faith in Santa Qtlaus MARGUERITTE BALLOU I I often wondered how Santa Claus ever could get in Some houses, for the chimneys are so little, else he's mighty thin. I know that he is stout and strong, from pictures I have seen. He couldn't come down chimneys, he's always very clean. This question always faces me, maybe everyone, But chimney, or no chimney, he never fails to come. II I often wondered why it was I never chanced to wake, Just as Santa placed his pack or gave a little shake. Mother says he goes away if children ever peep, But I never get a chance because I'm always fast asleep. And if I ever should awake, I'd shut my eyes, you bet! I wouldn't peep on Santa, he's never failed us yet. ' III I often wondered how he' d come if it did not snow, But then, he'd find another way just as good, I know. He would probably come by air-plane or send the toys by freight, He'd always manage some way, he never could be late. IV There are many things about him I'm always wond'ring 'boutg And some of them, I know, I never could work out. But I'1l quit all this nonsense and will not cry nor fret. Why should I? Dear old Santa has never passed us yet. K