St Angela Hall Academy - Veritas Yearbook (Brooklyn, NY)

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Mirror of Girlhood Mirror, mirror, 011 the wall, Who is the fairest one of all? T ALL began in the Garden of Eden. Eve sought the answer, and thought the serpent had given it to her. Woman banished from Paradise sought her image in a stream and wondered: Am I the fairest one of all?', Up through the Agesthe question came. What is true womanly beauty? who is the fairest one of all? Woman was seeking, ever seeking, seeing her reHection in the streamlets of peasant England, in blue Italian waters, in the crystal mirrors of the court of Louis XIV. K On, on, and still she searches. Does she not know the answer has been found? The beauty of the King's daughter is from within. The Kings daughter-Mary, Mother of God. How blind have been her children! They seek to honor a thing unknown, while the Queen of Beauty is watching from heaven and earth! We know that the beauty of Mary is not a golden head, a graceful hand or a fair complexion, though she possessed all of these. Her beauty is the grace of purity, of a stainless soul, and a holy mind. Her beauty is the beauty of grace. It is the radiance of love as intangible as the morning mist, and as real as the morning sunrise. She is the mirror of girlhood, of womanly perfection. Do we not call her in the Litany Speculum Justitiae, Mirror of Justice? There will always be women who will not acknowledge this answer. They are blind and ignorant, and they will go on, seeking transient beauty, and never finding it. Mirror, mirror, on the wall, Who is the fairest one of all? O Mary, Queen of Heaven and Earth, thou art! JEANNE ALVINO. PI4 Great Queen of Queens, most mild, most meek, most wise, Most Venerable Cause of all our joy, Whose cheerful look our sadness doth destroy, And art the Spotless Mirror to man's eyes. BEN JONSON C1573-16375

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Piellertions OUTH is a strange thing-fragile, tender, brief, fashioned of the fabric of dreams. And young girls, they are strange things, too. Their elders say they are heedless, shallow, uncomprehending. They find it amusing to note the number of times a day a girl glances into a mirror. They scoff at her idle dreams. The word Youth conveys to them laughter, perhaps, and immaturity-and more dreams and mirrors. Wait, they say, I have heard her talk. Spring, and romance, and love. Not much depth there. Every other time she passes a mirror, a young woman pictures herself as a bride. Watch her sigh at weddings, hear her read over the marriage ceremony, always with one eye on a mirror to broaden the vision perhaps? That is foolish, too idealistic, a waste of time. Pause a moment. Glance beyond the mirror. Gaze through it as she does. Watch with her the thoughts that stir beyond those candid mirrored eyes, and behold her dreams. Did you ever read through the prayer in the Nuptial Mass? . . . may she he prudent like Rebecca, long-lineal and faithful like Sara, may the author of sin have no share in any of her actions . . .Could a girl find better counsel? . . . may she fortify her weakness with strong aliscipline, may she he respected for her seriousness and venerated for her mori- esty . . . ls not this what you have sought to teach her? . . . May her life he pure ana' blameless, and may she attain to the rest of the hlessecl in the ltingrloin of heaven . . . Worthy fruit of young dreams. Within that passage is contained the ideal source and ultimate goal of Christian wornanhood. It is no waste of time for her to steal a glance into a mirror as she passes by. Nor is it foolish for her to see there a bride. For even if her dreams are never realized, they have given to her something that shall never be lostg true values, an ideal. . . . May she he well taught in heatfenly lore . . . May she revnain jiranly attached to the faith and the covnznandments. MARY SCHMUCK. PP If she does something but a little sweet As gaze toward the glass to set her hair See how his soul falls humbled at her feet! What if this lady be thy Soul, and He Who claims to enjoy her sacred beauty be Nor thou, but God, and thy sick faith a female vanity Such as a Bride, viewing her mirror'd charms Feels when she sighs, All these are for His arms! from Sjionsa Dei by Conventry Patmore