Seven Hills High School - Yearbook (Cincinnati, OH)

Page 100 text:

Milestone refused even to come down stairs and look at the tree. What to do with Marianne! Of course it was a shock: and so hard on such a young girl! Marianne was only twenty-five, the poor child. Mrs. Hopkins did so want to do something to help, to ease Marianne's pain: but there was nothing to do. Mrs. Hopkins glanced at her watch and saw it was late. Her husband had gone upstairs a little while ago, and now she followed. During the night Mrs. Hopkins was awakened by Marianne's cries. They took her to the hospital, and Mrs. Hopkins stayed with her all night. When the doctor came out of Marianne's room he looked worried. While talking to Mrs. Hopkins, he tried to hide his concern, but she sensed the trouble. Mrs. Hopkins, said Dr. Baker, 'iMarianne is a very sick girl. She has lost the will to live, We are doing everything in our power to pull her through, She has to help, too. NVithout her aid, l'm not sure what will happen. We have given her some medicine and she will sleep for the better part of the day. l suggest that you go home and rest. lt has been a hard night for you. We will call if there are any further developments. Mrs. Hopkins left, confident that Marianne would get the best possible care. Marianne was dreaminge-odd, fantastic dreams. lt seemed as if she were in some cloudy, filmy place. ltQit was heaven! She saw no one: then all of a sudden a form appeared - the form of a beautiful woman, all dressed in blue. lt was the Virgin Mary. She approached Marianne and spoke to her in a low, melodius voice: she told her that she must be brave and happy. The Virgin told Marianne that she must, above all, want to live. She told her that once, long ago, she had also brought a child into the world on this very night, Marianne, in her dream, stood dumbfounded, unable to move or speak. Suddenly this vision disappeared and another one was in its place-a vision of Johnny. She ran to him, crying. She was in his arms and he was comforting her, telling her not to cry. He told her that she must be brave: that, just because he was no longer with her on earth, it did not mean he wasn't there, because he was. He was by her side, always, talking to her, helping her, and above all, loving her, Johnny said he would always be there when she needed him. He said she must be good and strong when bringing up Dickie, and, if she ever needed his help. just to call and he would be at her side. She was calm now and had stopped crying. Johnny released her and said, Remember, dearest, I am always with you. He bent and kissed her, then disappeared. Marianne ran after him, looking everywhere and calling his name, But all was in vain. Johnny was nowhere to be found. The next thing she knew, she was awakened by a nurse, and a soft, cuddly bundle laid in her arms. lt was her baby--a boy, born on Christmas Day. She was suddenly cold and afraid. Then for a second page 96

Page 99 text:

Milestone knitting and weaving it. And even further back in time, the monks in their secluded monasteries used to copy whole books by hand and illustrate them as well. How the hands of the serfs of those times must have cried out in pain! They had no modern tools and inventions and machines to assist them in their hopeless lot of scratching their very existence from the soil. But hands are more important than just for the work they do: one simple action may decide the fate of millions of people. For instance, when the atom bomb was released from the airplane by simply pressing a small button, millions of people suddenly were killed, and many extremely important questions were aroused. And just think what a simple goodbye wave of the hand can mean and has meant to millions many times in the past. And doesn't one's hand take a tremendously important step when it signs its owner's signature to a pledge or agreement which must then be kept? But the most decisive hand of all is C1od's hand by which this world was created: The sea is His and He made it: and His hands prepared the dry land. Is this not the hand which leads us all? ELIZABETH CARSON, '48 A 5 WN L h e 6 or A CHRISTMAS VISION To-night Marianne couldn't get to sleep. It was three days before Christmas, and Marianne hoped that holiday would never come. She hated the thought of Christmas alone. On Thanksgiving Day her husband, Johnny, had been killed in a hunting accident. Marianne wished she were dead, too. She was dead: that is, she was, inside. Marianne ate and slept, but only because she had to, She hated everybody, even her three-year-old son, Dickie, Dickie was so like his father? The way he walked. the way he held his head, his eyes, and his curly hair, all of these traits were like Johnny's. Dickie didn't, couldn't, under- stand about his father. He kept asking, 'lWhen is Daddy coming home, Mommy? And what would Marianne tell her coming child? How could she make the baby know its father, when it had never known him, and would never see him or be seen by him? While all of these thoughts were chasing each other across Marianne's brain, she fell into a troubled and restless sleep. Mrs. Hopkins, Marianne's mother, was so worried about herl Marianne was so uninterested in everything going on around her! Mrs. Hopkins had hoped that if she decorated the house and put up the tree it might make her daughter feel a little better: but, no, Marianne page 95

Page 101 text:

Milestone Johnny reappeared and repeated his words about being brave, Marianne now had a new strength. 1 She asked for her mother and little boy and told the nurse to tell Dickie she had a wonderful Christmas present for him-a baby brother. i When Mrs. Hopkins entered Marianne's room the girl was asleep, with her baby by her side. Mrs. Hopkins stared in amazement-here before her very eyes was the Virgin and the Child. CARQL Locicwooo, '49 YV U1 1 e. Q 5 vw PRAYER Little children at the close of day Kneel at their beclsides, heads bowed, and pray. Little children in all the different lands, No matter under what skies, Raise their little hands. Does it matter if their color Be yellow, red or white? 'Tis but to only one God Their prayers do rise at night. Little children at the close of day Kneel at their bedsides, heads bowed, and pray. CHARLoTTE CRAIG, '49 ff? i