The Illman School - Span Yearbook (Philadelphia, PA)

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THE SPAN-1931 HAPPTNIESS Lost-the art of happiness, which was crushed into many pieces and tossed to the four winds. Perhaps, as you travel the highways and byways of life you will find it again. We are all searching for it, each in his own manner, but only a very few find any of its flowers. It is strange for the flowers of happiness are many. They grow along the pathways which we all must follow. Gather happiness as you journey on, for it is scattered in many places. There is no large field at the end of the road where these flowers are found in abundance, where we can gather as many as we desire. Then, live in happiness ever after. Now is the time for happiness-today, this hour. Around us on every side are the flowers. We need only to see, recognize, and gather these humble blossomsg remembering always, that the flowers of happiness which yield the most joy are those which are shared with another. He who is selhsh can never be truly happy. Whether it be the happiness of wealth, friendship, beauty, or love, there must be someone to share it with, if the joy is to be complete. Happiness is fundamental. Upon it depends the life of every person. Love is happiness, friendship is happinessg beauty is happiness, life is happiness. Who would, if they could, live without it? Is it not good to be alivel The joy of living fills one with the desire to dog to actg to achieve. What? Happiness, and more happiness! Take it within your hands, hold it gently, all the while breathing in the sweet lingering fragrance of its blossoms. Then with a happy smile place it in the hands of another. lVlAY C. LOWER. BEAUTY Beauty--to define it Is like trying to imprison With mere words The matchless glory of the sunset's hte, The crystal clearness of the trembling dewg Or the keen ecstasy of far-borne wind. DOROTHY NELLIS. Page Sixty-nine

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THE ILLMAN SCHOOL MY VERY PERSONAL UTOIWIA Someday-someday I'm going to sit on the top of a high, high hill where I'I1 feel the wind in my hair and the sun on my face. I'll look at the trees, the flowers, the countryside- really see them-just look and look and look. I'm going to listen to a raindrop fall like a silver bell and not a deadly splash. And then I'll paint a picture, a wondrous gleaming picture, and write a book, a charming, heart-rending book. I'l1 make up poems-poems so beautiful that they'll touch the soul of the bitterest cynic, and compose music that will thrill the greatest musical fanatic. Someday I'm going to remember that the moon is really a golden plate and the stars are the little holes in the floor of heaven-not merely shining, fiery, metal discs. I'll look at all the tiny bugs and sunbeams. And it will come to me suddenly that I've forgotten all these years that they are baby nymphs flying around laughing to one another. And then someday, I'm going to take a shining boat and go somewhere, just anywhere- I don't care at all-over the shimmering sea. Iall let the salty water splash in my face and the cold winds cool it. And I'm going to- But it's eight o'clock. I'll be late for school. I'm oil to teach children to paint my pictures. to write my poems, to look at my trees and flowers-to dream my dreams. But isn't it worth it? Suppose I had no dreams to give them? But then again-Someday. LAURA ELIZABETH SAUSSER. A THOUGHT Of all the million acres of land And all the miles of ocean and sea, I thought, while resting on the sand How very little there is of me. FLORENCE LINDSLEY. Page Sixty-eight

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THE ILLMAN SCHOOL AN IMPRESSION OIF' A MUOD A mood is a queer intangible something-that something that either makes one feel that he is living or merely existing. There is that mood that comes at times that makes one cheer- ful, happy, courageous and even adventurous. That is ulivingf' Then, often there comes stealing in the magnetic mood of retiring from work, slouching,-giving up. That is exist- ing, Interest in everything is lost when yielding to the don,t caren mood that is especially apparent in spring. In such a care-free mood, one heeds to no trouble, worry, annoyance, anxiety or anything of the like. While under the spell of a happy-go-lucky mood, everything is met with a smile, for there is no such thing as trouble. However, in a flash, such a mood is gone and soon an uneasy, restless mood creeps in which causes one to become annoyed by almost anything, wearisome, and harassing. This mysterious something, a mood, changes one so that in the morning he may feel that his heart is wrinkling like an old man's forehead, but by night it is smooth again, smooth and clear. I have my moods of stern resolveg I'm master of my fate, I know. These moods don't change my life at all- It's very nice to have them thoughf' E. FLORENCE LINDSLEY. BLUE When you have reached that state in which you can really be blue, not blue in the sense of being low-spirited, but just blue. Oh, to be like the blue of the sky at twilight, alive and feeling, yet dreamy and distant. There is a deep feeling of oneness when you are blue like the sky, a oneness which is found only when lost in distanceg lost in space. The feel of blue is like cooling night, after a hor day, it breathes of the music of the whirling planets, of rivers of gentle moonlight, of stars and stars, thousands of them, flung over all. It carries you beyond and beyond until all sense of being is gone, all consciousness lost. You are like a blue star, revolving through space, travelling without chart, without destination. You are a part of all past, present, and future-you are blue! MAY C. LOWER. Page Seventy