Our Lady of the Angels Academy - Angelican Yearbook (Enfield, CT)

Page 21 text:

VISITORS The opening of the Academy of “Our Lady of the Angels,” in the quiet little town of Enheld, Connecticut, has not only surprised many but also attracted attention and aroused some curiosity among friends and strangers. A number of visitors have honored our Academy with their presence. Dr. Roy Deferrari of the Catholic University of America was one of these distinguished guests. He spent a pleasant day with us. His visit resulted in the affiliation of our Academy with the Catholic University of America. This we consider a gr:at privilege. Yes, we are indeed proud of our ALMA MATER whose aim is a high, sound and thorough educational standing. Another visitor on a similar mission was the Diocesan Superin¬ tendent of Schools, Reverend Father Heffernan. We welcomed our Honorable Guest with enthusiasm. Pleasant memories of his visit will long linger with us. A number of clergy, members of various religious orders, our dear parents, relatives and friends are our frequent guests. Each visit is highly appreciated and long remembered. May the dear Lord love and bless each and every one of our benefactors. Carolvn Rutkowska ’45

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THAT FATEFUL MARCH THE THIRD A few days preceding the month which comes in like a roaring lion, we became very docile — very cautious. And on March third we hold on to our hats. For no matter what precautions we take, a disastrous fate is ours on that day. On March 3, 1942, fourteen timid, yet adventurous Freshmen skipped into Music Class, anxious to find out what happens to un¬ prepared culprits. Their curiosity was satisfied only too well, for a few moments later an indignant teacher sailed out of Room 204, followed by twenty-eight eyes, widened with fear and wonder. That afternoon, the Freshmen virtuously abstained from the movies shown every Tuesday, in order to make amends for the unprepared lesson. It was merely a coincidence (and a well-guarded secret) that this was our punishment for the morning episode. On March 3, 1943, we tiptoed into Geometry class, sat down and hoped for the best while fearing the worst. We almost whis¬ pered our answers. There was a pitiful look in our faces. Rut no fortune is merciless. Out sailed another teacher. Next year we thought we had outwitted the fate that chained us to a tragic March 3. Of course, English class had not been ideal, but the teacher sat through the lesson as if Her life depended upon it (ours did.) We heaved a sigh of relief when the day passed with¬ out the usual storm. Alas ! We counted our chicks before they were hatched, for, that day, one of our classmates had been transplanted to another garden — for she entered the Novitiate of the Sisters of the Poor of St. Francis. Of course we were glad that she had been true to her vocation, but it was not consoling to hear that we had lost a member of our class. This year we were sure that we had escaped our fate for March 3 fell on a Saturday. Surely the tradition would be broken. No such luck! Ironically enough, it followed the course of an important holiday — it was moved to March 2, its vigil. The disturbing ele¬ ment was an apparently innocent looking book, full of wisdom which we had not deigned to digest. But the less said about our woes, the better. It is sufficient to say that we’re glad the last “fateful day’’ has gone. Florence Rakowska, ’45

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MUSIC ROOM? WANTED: A music room entirely furnished, if possible. Must contain a piano with unbreakable pedal and a sturdy general con¬ stitution. fifteen comfortable chairs, and sound-proof walls. Send by express to: Our Lady of the Angels Academy 1570 Enfield St. Enfield, Conn. Oh! Oh! we forgot! We should have included a request for book-stands. Those books have the annoying habit of slipping through our fingers. There must be some invention to remedy the situation. My! won ' t Sister Presentatia be happy when we receive an answer to Her prayers! The corridor and steps after all, are al¬ right, but — We look like climbers of Jacob’s ladder on the steps, and “Outcasts of Poker Flat’’ on the corridor. In each case, we block the way for passers-by, if they dare venture through the dense jung ' le of girls. Usually, however, our singing gives them a fair warning of what lies ahead. But then again, I suppose we’d miss the old system, if we ever had the luck to obtain what we ask for. On baking days, the deli¬ cious aroma of Sister Rajneria’s cakes is an incentive to proper breathing. A sound-proof wall would also be smell-proof, wouldn’t it? The ideal piano would leave no room for excuses for little defi¬ ciencies in our playing After all, it is a comfort to be able to blame the piano for it all. And as to the chairs — it is fun to sit on the steps. Now, to top it all, we’d have to say goodbye to our dear little “Bambino.” Let’s call the whole thing off. Good old corridor and steps! Florence ’45