Immaculata Academy - Lilium Convallium Yearbook (Portland, OR)

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28 LILIUM CONVALLIUM A Trip to Timlouctoo Under the shade of a rare group of oak trees that provide shelter for the weary traveler of Utah, on a sultry day in mid-summer, Millacent sat and looked dreamily about her. At her side lay a well-worn volume of the Arabian Nightsn and in her hands she loosely clasped an open book of Tenny- son's poems. Glancing down she quoted half audibly, I stood upon the Mountain which o'erlooks The narrow seas, whose rapid interval Parts Africa from green Europe- How often I have wished that I might be carried to Timbuctoo and stand there on the hill with the poet admiring the city. Perhaps some day I may. Today, will be that 'some day'. Millacent, looking up, was astonished to see the owner of the low voice that had taken her so unawares. Before her on an elaborate oriental carpet stood a dark, squatty, little man. The turban sur- mounting his broad, smiling face matched his vari-colored costume of jacket, high collared waist, bloomers that reached to his ankles, and shoes with tips that touched his knees. He read perplexity in her face and hastened to explain his mission. You are to come on this rug to Algiers, where you will transfer to a swift aeroplane that will take you over the Sahara Desert to Timbuctoo. Are you prepared to go immediately? With a cry of delight the girl assented and jumped onto the soft carpet. At a word of magic from the chubby pilot, the rug soared into the blue vault of heaven. Millacent saw from her elevated position all the country with which she was familiar, but as they mounted higher and sailed faster, she lost sight of the dot that marked her home. As she sat gazing up at the firmament, she felt a little regret that she had come, though the end of her journey held a cherished delight. To begin conversation she asked her companion his name. My name, he announced readily, is Ahmed. After a pause he exclaimed, Ah, see to the north flows the Yellowstone River. A remarkable production of nature, is it not? As they sped on he continued, Oh, look to the east, that is the Big Horn River and now we shall come to the mountains of the same name. Of Wyoming state I am particularly fond. Whenever I travel to the West, I make it my aim to come here for I enjoy the scenery immensely. I ventured farther today. Expecting to find an oasis in that clump of trees, I landed and, hearing the name of one of my chief posts, I wished to become acquainted with the speaker who so longed to see itf' You wanted water, then? Millacent inquired. No, oh no, I forgot myself for the time and thought I was traveling over the Sahara, where one usually makes an oasis his goal. How our little flyer does go todayg we are already above the wide corn fieldsf, Silently the two gazed down upon the waving corn that stretched over vast fields. In vain did Millacent search for a new topic to discuss, for her partner became suddenly mute and ceased to talk as quickly as he had begun. At length, as they floated over Tennessee, her companion found his tongue. And now we come to 'Sunny Tennessee'. I-Ie spoke less rapidly than he had done before. Look at the small cotton field yonder. Now we are passing a peanut field. The girl looked absently downward. Her guide became silent again. She thought he was hurt by her lack of enthusiasm in commenting on the scenery and hurriedly exclaimed, This section is very picturesque!

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LILIUM CONVALLIUM 27 satisfied until it was removed. She arranged the flowers in artistic bouquets. Their beauty and sweet symbolism charmed her and she longed like them to remain quite near her Beloved Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament. Every day Imelda's desire for Holy Communion became more intense. On the eve of the Ascension in 1333, she was consumed with an overpowering longing for her God. Alone in the choir, she tried to subdue her ardent de- sire by thinking of her unworthiness. She gazed at the tabernacleg suddenly a ray of light came towards her, in it a Sacred Host hovered. She held out her arms entreatingly and parted her lips, but our Lord did not come to her. She dropped her hands and closed her lipsg the thought of her own nothingness dismayed her. Once more she looked at her Spouse lovingly and hope again awakened within her. The sacristan, seeing the heavenly light, called the Chaplain and the other Sisters. The priest came and seeing God's manifest desire, gave the Sacred I-lost to the child, who received It with unspeakable joy. Later when one of the Sisters returned, at the request of the Prioress to call her, she found Imelda in an attitude of profound prayer. Nothing could disturb her ecstasy of love and gratitude. At length it became clear that angels had borne her innocent soul to complete her thanksgiving in heaven. The Sisters then remembered her frequent question, How can anyone receive Jesus and not die of joy? for which she had never received an answer that satisfied her. -ADELINE VANDERBECK, 'z6. Imelda is Soul A lily, pure as those, the most select, Witli which she loved the altar to adorn, She wished to beg all sin she ever scorned. She strove her love for Jesus to perfect, XVhilst she must wait for Him, the Guest elect. XVith longing for her God her soul was torn, Wlmile she her tender years did sadly mourn, And angels did her lily-soul protect. Can we then wonder that our Lord Divine Should wish to come to this sweet holy one? Since she could not approach the Feast sublime, Our Savior found her worthy that He come To her Himself. Then joy her heart so stressed, Her soul took flight to its eternal rest. -ADELINE VANDERBECK, 'z6.

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LILIUM CONVALLIUM 29 He was pleased. You are rightg it is quite picturesque. See the workers in the tobacco fields. I think the trees yonder shelter the banks of the Cape Fear Riverf' They sailed swiftly over the lazy stream and soon were floating on a parallel with the waters of the Atlantic. This will be my first ocean voyage, she began, and I am delighted that it is to be on a magic carpet, for I would be very unused to the swaying of a ship. Doesn't it- Her inquiry was interrupted by the pilot's hooting to the helmsman of an ancient brig over which they were passing. The mariner shouted back and the rug sped swiftly on until the vessel disappeared behind the watery horizon. The plump pilot still wore a broad smile when he turned to his passenger. You were about to put a question to me when I hailed my old friend, were you not? Yes, but first tell me who your friend is. I-Ie is Ned Thatch Simon, a namesake of the famous-or infamous- pirate of the early colonies. I have known him ever since my father and I first tried our winged horse over the ocean. I met him at Cape Lookout. You had a flying horse? Yes, but the poor beast died with fright from an aeroplane. Now, out with your question. It has answered itself, because if we keep up this speed it will not take three days as I thought. Oh, dismiss the thought. Our journey will be over in three hours. It took me but an hour to cross from Dakar to Raleigh. How interesting! NVell worn as the phrase was, it proclaimed to Ahmed an appreciation of his manner of discoursing. He soon found opportunity for displaying more of his knowledge when they approached the Azores. He was well acquainted with these islands, he explained, both by study of his native geographer, Erisi, and by frequent visits to them. He gave a long string of the unpronounceable names of his friends there, pointed out many villages, and gave the history of the islands. Wlien at length he had finished, Millacent breathed a sigh of relief and settled deeper into the downy carpet. For the first time since her eventful journey began, she felt strangely unfamiliar with all of her surroundings. Ahmed read her thoughts. . You are on a different hemisphere now, and your advent bears with it an odd sensation which will soon be overcome. Lo! we are come to the pass of Hercules! They passed over the gigantic mountain of rock and came above the vast waters that divide two continents. As the girl stood up to view the novel scene, the kindly breeze fanned her flushed face. She listened with unusual interest to her conductor. To the north across the Sierras stands the mystic Alhambra. I should fain bring you closer but the sun is well up in the west and we must hasten. Witli a magic word the pilot had the rug flying as an arrow and they were soon floating above the city of Algiers. The magic air ship was brought to a halt on the summit of the Casbah, the ancient residence of the deys. After rolling the carpet up, Ahmed said, Before we go to the aeroplane station, let us take a view of the modern towng there is a fine outlook at the end of this street. Together the travelers strolled down the narrow, crooked, street, walled by strong, prison-like houses. At length they came out of the shadows of the frowning edifices into the sunlight. Below, Algiers spread from the slope and