Marymount Secondary School - Hiamead Yearbook (Tarrytown, NY)

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An Event of Interest NE of the most interesting and memorable events of the past year, was the violin recital given by Sasha Culbertson in the Academic Auditorium. Mr. Culbertson, a noted Russian violinist and famous artist, commenced his mu- sical career at the early age of fourteen, making his debut in Vienna. Although an American citizen, Sasha Culbertson has spent most of his life studying abroad in Europe. The program which he gave was an interesting and varied one which held the students literally spell-bound throughout its entirety. The composers, whose works Mr. Culbertson interpreted in his own masterly and artistic style, were Kreisler, Brahms and Mendelssohn. The Brahms Hungarian Dance in particular was a gem of tonal expression, and the concluding number, Mendelssohn's On Wings of Song brought a perfect perform- ance to a perfect conclusion. One and all left the Auditorium with singing hearts, and with an untold apprecia- tion and love for God's most heavenly gift to man-the Music of the Masters. HELEN CASEY, '38. The Isle of Bermuda cc SLE of Bermuda -the very name spells beauty! Few places confine within such a limited radius so many spots of interest, so many miniature Edens of loveliness. Perhaps the queen of Bermuda's' beauties is the famous Crystal Caves. The dis- covery of these caves was the result of a very trivial accident. Two little native boys were playing happily with a ball, when suddenly their fascinating toy disappeared mysteriously, seemingly into the earth. They ran quickly to the spot, and to their astonishment found a huge hole in the ground. One of the boys did not hesitate to descend into this hole in quest of his precious ball, and upon doing so, found him- self in a cavern whose walls glittered and shimmered in the half light from above. In this way, Bermuda's subterranean wonder, thc beauteous and strange Crystal Caves, first became known. Some of the rock formations are in the shape of buildings and objects, whilst others vaguely resemble human beings. Another place typical of Bermuda is Devil's Hole. It is a small natural pond in which the owner keeps tropical fish of all species, including a small octopus. Replete to overflowing as is the island with entrancing nooks and crannies, the memory of the picturesque harbor is the most vivid in my mind. It is very unlike the harbors of our American maritime resorts. There are not many large boats coming in or going out, and on a clear summer's day, when sky and sea are deepest blue, the white liner makes a pretty picture as she slowly wends her way through the smaller craft of the natives, between rows of wet black rocks, past tiny but beautiful homes high upon the hills and out towards the misty horizon. While visiting the island, the colourful exits of the Monarch of Bermuda afforded me the greatest enjoyment, but when it came my turn to be borne away on her white deck, I looked yearningly back upon the receding shore, hoping for another and longer visit to that enchanted isle-Bermuda. BETTY FARLEY, '38, Fiffy-six

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Spain INCE mid-summer of the year 1936, the most important news published in all the daily papers is that concerned with the terrible conditions existing in Spain. Great is our horror and disgust when we hear of the atrocities inflicted on those self-sacrificing nuns and priests, who, rather than abandon their faith, met death at the hands of a cruel mob. Words are powerless to describe the havoc that is taking place in that once Catholic country, which was so proud to boast of the names of a Teresa, a Loyola and many others. In the study of our religion this year-the question: Give reasons why the Church is so bitterly persecutedf, was answered thus: Because she condemns pride, sensuality and injustice, and because she is the true church of Christ, Who having made her to His own Image and Likeness is now hated and persecuted in her just as He Himself was hated and persecuted during His Life on earthf' Did He not say to His disciples If they have persecuted Me, they will persecute you also. How truly these words are being fulfilled today! God and Religion are entirely blotted out of Spanish schools and homes today, and, what is much worse, out of the hearts of Christ's little ones. We, as Catholics, must pray for the cessation of this devilish work, and take our places, even while still at school, in the Militant army of the Church. ' PATRICIA CURRAN, '39. A Prayer When life is hard and wearisome, I turn to You with joy, And visualize Your Nazareth When You were but a boy. So oft I think upon the care Your Mother, pure and sweet, Bestowed on You. Oh, little Boy, When shall we really meet? Did You have colds, as we do now, And wish Your Mother near? Or want Your Father? Yes, I know! Dads are so very dear! So, little Boy, please comfort me, When I'm in need of You. You've done so much for others And I know You'll help me, too. MARY YANKAUER, '37, Fifty-five

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The Feast of Saint Gerard HE beautiful feast of Saint Gerard, patron of our dear Reverend Mother, dawned bright and fair. The traditional celebrations took place in the evening, when the Student Body greeted its beloved Mother with flowers and song. The weather was surprisingly mild, and the sun shone on our happiness throughout the festive day. Of course we had a free day, and most of us went for a long and pleas- ant hike around the lakes in the beautiful Westchester countryside. The Debate, which the members of the Senior Class had so lovingly prepared in honour of the occasion, was a great success. The long speeches were perfectly memor- ized, and delivered with dignity, poise and a quiet determination. The arguments were well-founded and planned out, and the amount of knowledge displayed in their presen- tation was a clear proof of the tenacity and enthusiasm of the debaters in their research work. The day thus ended as happily as it had begun, and we Formers are glad that we have more such occasions to look forward to in the years to come. GEORGINA TOBOADA, '39. Benediction The glory of that heav'nly scene Poet has ne'er expressedg And feeble language, worn with age Paints with but little zest. Wortls, like butterflies, come and go- Thc subtle mesh of thought and mind Cannot stay their whimsied flow. The golden candles near the Host Glow in Adoration: The flowers droop their lovely heads In humble Veneration. And gleaming on the Altar-Throne There stands the Monstrance fair- Oh! to my faltering lips there comes A lowly, fervent prayer: Grant, dear Lord, when You are raised to bless That Catholic hearts may love You more, That the whole world may grieve You less! KATHERINE MCDERMOTT, '38, Fiffy-seveff