Henry Ford Hospital School of Nursing - Sonah Yearbook (Detroit, MI)

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9 • S O N A H SONAH S ilence, sympathy and sincerity; C curtesy, and calm demeanor; H appy utlook n L ife. O ther folks F irst-yourself forgetting. N ever hesitating, never U ndaunted when duty calls. Always R emembering S implicitv 1 s N ature ' s G randest hiw. A spirations toward the highest — be it N ursing, culture or D reams of achievement. H ope inspiring; keeping Y oung the fires of our ambitions and faith m G od encouraging. To 1 mpress these and other fine ideals upon E ach student N urse is our dear old SONAH ' S greatest E ndeavor. —E. McQj ade, ' 32 BUZZERS Strange instruments of sweetness and of sadness. First they taunt us, then they fill our hearts with gladness- The buzzers ringing. Did Poe, in wildest dreams of fancy flitting, Ever think of torture more befitting Than buzzers ringing? If some handsome visitor comes a ' calling, Then there is nothing so enthralling As buzzers ringing. But if you ' re sound asleep and snoring. What could be more dreadful that the roaruig Of buzzers ringing? We could make this tale unending. But — we have a date that ' s penduig. So we must really run along now. For unless we ' re very wrong There ' s our buzzer ringing. — Heh ' ii Skiiuier, ' 32 [84]

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N A H A WEE V ISH The vision of a nurse I see, From depths of childhood memory, Her face seemed to shine so happily. Her hands deftly and perfectly. Performed a work so splendidly, That a shadowy form of death did Hee. Oh! to little children mav I he A nurse like mv nurse was to me. — Helen Dickens, ' 33 A DOOR Pride is like a door on life — Shutting out and closing in the public eye and private strife; For what could be worse than a soul laid bare with the bruises and scars you ' d find there? And yet, in your travels you ' ll find doors open wide to public gaze, Not merely ajar so that you have to peek to see inside. While others vou ' ll find dingv with dust and grim and clogged with long gather- ing rust — Nor could vou prv them loose if vou tried For all within has long since died for want of light and air. Build the door — that pride of yours — of oak — and strong! With Its face to the shining sun to absorb those golden rays; Make it staunch and sturdy — it must endure life long. And see that it is plain; for fussy doors are hard to dust And a dusty pride is twice as hard to bear. Plan It broad and wide from the start — it must embrace your friends, your work and art. For you will find that narrow pride like narrow doors Shut out the light and also choke the heart. Strengthen your door with iron bands of courage, pluck and fearless truth. For It must brave barrage and hurricane in a world that plays a war-like game. The twisted ornaments — prejudice, cynicism and sophistry can easily be left behind. And in their stead a serviceable knob — Conviction — of the kind that will not rust. With confidence in lieu of a lock to ward off encroaching MISTRUST. Well-oiled hinges of common sense will make your door complete. For there will be times when that pride must be moved aside to let in the good things of life: Times when the door must be slammed with force and used as a shield in strife For after all, Pride IS your door on life. — E. McQuade, ' 32 [83]

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