New York University School of Education - Education Violet Yearbook (New York, NY)

Page 148 text:

A Conlrasl IFTH AVENUE is decked out in gala attire. Smart, inviting shops with their vari- colored displays of perfumes, jewelry, shawls, gowns, are filled with eager shoppers. Brisk throngs of happy people crowd the already crowded street. Smiling-all of them-tall, thin men who look like fashion plates, pretty women in luxurious cars, apple- cheeked children clad warmly. Even the sleek, well-groomed dogs in the cars look on the world with a cheerful benevolence. Colorful, laughing, noisy, crowded-that is Fifth Avenue! A few short blocks away, a street is also crowded. But a grim silence hangs over all. Here, too, are all kinds of people-tall, short, old, young-but all are shabby. Not a smile appears. All have faces that are set and pale, eyes that lack luster. Their steps are slow and indifferent. This is not a crowd of happy holiday shoppers. This is only a mere handful of New York's large army of homeless and hungry, waiting to form a bread line! Only a few short blocks away from lively, luxurious Fifth Avenue, in the wealthiest city of the world! Youlh OUTH is not a time of life: it is a state of mind. It is not a matter of red cheeks, red lips, and supple knees, it is a quality of imagination, a temper of the will, a vigor of emotions. It is the freshness of the deep springs of life. Youth means a temperamental predominance of courage over timidity, of the appetite for adventure over the love of ease. This often exists in a man of fifty, more than in a man of twenty. Nobody grows old by merely living a few years. People grow old only by deserting their ideals. ' Years wrinkle the skin, but to give up enthusiasm wrinkles the soul. Worry, doubt, self-distrust, fear, and despair: these are the long, long years that bow the heart and turn the grieving spirit back to dust. Whether sixty or sixteen, there should be in every human being's heart the lure of wonder, the sweet amazement at the stars and star-like things and thoughts, the undaunted challenge of events, the unfailing child-like appetite for what next, and the joy of the game of living. One is as young as his faith, as old as his fears, as young as his hope, as old as his despair. In the central place of one's heart is an evergreen tree, its name is Love. So long as it flourishes, a person is young. When it dies, he is old. In the central place of every heart is a wireless station. So long as it receives messages of beauty, hope, cheer, grandeur, courage, and power from God and from fellowmen, so long is one young. 148

Page 147 text:

Al Tea+ro Mama, dice Margarita, Al teatro quiero ir Con Violera mi amiguita Y poderme diverrirf' Su mamita, Dona Ana Le dice con atencion: Que al teatro va manana, Si ella aprende su lecci6n. Margarita muy atenta, Aprende bien su leccion, Y se halla muy contenta, Porque va a la funcion. Ya para ir a la cama, Le dice a su mama, Que le guarde el boleto y el Programa, Que le trae su papa. Ella vestida sencilla, Se va en busca de Violera, Quien la espera en la taquilla, Y le compra un bolero de lunera. Las dos muchachas muy lisras, Son las primeras a entrar, Para hablar con los artistas, Y el espanol pracricar. Las dos se olvidan del nombre, Del teatro donde estan, Y le preguntan a un hombre, Quien las mira con afan. Loco y complacienrc el hombre, Les dice de buena fe, Que el teatro tiene el nombre, Del buen santo San jose. 147

Page 149 text:

Wheels The pollen In the flower, The root In the earth, The bud In the twig, The twig In the branch, The branch In the trunk, The trunk In the ground. The seed In the ovum, The embryo In the womb, The babe In the crib, The youth In his bloom, The girl In her grace, The man In his strength, The woman In her glory. All end In the grave, All end In the ground. Wheels Within Wheels Of Life Ancl of Death, Of Hope and Despair, Eternally spin. G 149 Perpetual motion The mystery of od.