St Anthonys School of Nursing - Acorn Yearbook (Oklahoma City, OK)

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forever being disturbed, Miss Ierome fBarbara Fennesseyj, who wanted to see a ghost and was not disappointed, and Lucy IVIorrison QLonia Giebj, who helped unravel the mystery. The party was assisted and shown about by the mountain girl, Liza Gordon. This outstanding character, who almost stole the show, was none other than our own Irene Cymbalist . Tha? cast was very carefully selected, each member fitting her part perfectly. The plot held the attention of the audience from the first scene to the final curtain. All the critics agreed it was a raving success, thanks to the very capable direction of IXIrs. Ma1'y Goodwin, our house-mother. 4 Louise Landrum, a talented vocalist of the Senior class, presented two selections, I I-Iear A Rhapsodyf, and The Fable of the Rosef' -MEIICEDES SIMON. The Origin of the Christmas Crib Reading Given by Iobemmz Schott, December 23, 1940. I Who does not love the Christmas season with its joyous greetings, tinsel-wrapped gifts, glittering Christmas trees and the feeling of good will towards all that pervades the very atmosphere? But amidst all the merry making, how many of us stop to think of the true significance of this most beautiful of Christian feasts, the birthday of the Infant Savior? To keep this thought before us is the purpose of the beautiful Christmas C-rib that may be seen in every Catholic church or chapel-and it is interesting to know that it was St. Francis, patron of the Sisters of St. Francis, who originated this beautiful custom than has come down to us through the centuries. In telling the story of the first Christmasz Crib, I quote from the Chronicle of St. Franciswz V ' In the year 1223 St. Francis of Assisi celebrated Christmas in a way the world had never seen the match of. In Greccio he had a friend and well-wisher, Messer john Vellita, who had given him and his Brothers a wood-grown cliff up above Greccio, for them to live there. St. Francis now had this man called to Colombo and said to him: 'I want to celebrate the holy Christmas night along with thee, and now listen, how I havd thought it out for myself. In the woods by the cloister thou wilt find a cave, and there thou mayest arrange a manger filled with hay. There f1'lLlSt also be an ox andian ass, just as in Bethlehem. I want for once to celebrate seriously the coming of the Son of God upon earth and see with my own eyes how poor and miserable he wished to be ifor our sakes., john Vellita looked after all of St. Francis's wishes, and at midnight of Christmas Eve the Brothers came together to celebrate the festival of Christmas. All carried lighted torches, and around the manger the Brothers stood with their candles, so that it was as light as day under the dark vaulting of the trees. Mass was said over the manger as the altar, so that the Divine Child under the forms of bread and wine should himself come to the place, as bodily and discernibly as he had been in the stable of Bethlehem. For a moment it seemed to john Vellita that he saw a real child lying in the manger, but as if dead or sleeping. Then Brother Francis stepped forward and took it lovingly in his arms, and the child smiled at St. Francis, and with I-Iis little hands stroked his bearded chin and his coarse brown habit. And yet this vision did not astonish Messer john. For jesus had been dead or else asleep in many hearts, but Brother Francis had 'by his voice and his example again restored the Divine Child to life and awakened it from its trance. Christmas at the Nurses' Home UNO, we donit sit by the fireplace and keep a close lookout on our stockings hanging there to make sure Santa does not slip by us. We do keep a close watch, however, to see that Santa does not miss us. Santa makes his annual trip to the Nurses, I-Iome, too, and leaves the Christmas spirit behind. Christmas here is indeed a treasured memory. We all gather in the living room to see this jolly old fellow after the preliminary class each gets her big Christmas present, her cap, admitting them all into the freshman class at dear St. Anthonyis. Everyone is trying to be so quiet while waiting for Santa, but it is oh so hard to do. After what seems like hours, the sound of bells jingling in the dis- tance can be heard. Listen! yes, it is he!! Look! There are lovely gifts for everyone, with a large sack of that real Christmas candy we loved as children, to go with it. Such an array of gifts I have never seen, and I am sure you havenlt either. There, in the corner, is an unusually large package. Each

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A Mystery Story Characters : I-A senior student nurse. A surgeon-QAny resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely co-incidentalj Place: In any one of the eight operating rooms of South Surgery. Time: My first hectic weeks of surgery. The fplotj mystery: Wliat will the Doctor want next? A synopsis: Surgery! as I reluctantly pushed open the door that holds behind it the final phase of our education as nurses, the strangest sensation passed through me-I felt the emotions of fear, anxiety and happiness all at once. Ac last I was to be a surgery nurse. I had dreamed of this moment for years. My first assignment was the tonsil room, and I had always heard that helping with a tonsilectomy was so simple! My troubles began when I tried to assemble all the parts which make up a sluder. I tugged, twisted, pushed and worked myself up into a general state of turmoil but, at last, I got it together. The preliminary preparations were made and we were ready for action until the surgeon indignantly announced that the in- strument had been put together up side down. The pulling and twisting was resumed, this time to take it apart. Finally we were ready to start. My duty was to hold down the tongue, but try as I might the offending organ was always where it shouldn't have been. First I heard, Place the depressor on the back of the tongue and press downward. My sense of direction must have been all wrong for in a second came 'gPress downward! you're cutting off the patient's airwayf' Due to the surgeon's skillfulness a tonsil and not the tongue was extracted, and my next job was to suction the throat. First attempts were futile so the doctor patiently demonstrated to me all the nooks and crannies into which I was to reach, then he turned his head and with it the light, leaving me peering into an endless black pit. In another moment he groaned, you've got the uvula, it's the tonsil fossa I want cleaned out. Blinded with the pain of my ignorance I stumbled through the rest of the operation and rushed out, declaring I couldn't stand another day of it. But I survived several more days before the morning Sister announced, You may scrub for an appendectomy todayfl I had rehearsed every step of this operation, but in my fright I couldn't even tell Hchromic zl' from horsehair.n The surgeon reached out his hand toward me-the first thing I saw on the table was a pair of scissors so I slapped them into his palm. The scissors flew back to me immediately and with them, I-Iemostat ! When the appendix was safely in the specimen pan, came the words, 'gSponge count pleaseln I counted and re-counted, but one ten-sponge was missing. Frantically I searched all the tables and with my every movement I heard the Doctorls foot tap the floor and saw his brow raise and lower. Must everything happen to me? Finally the circulating nurse called out that the missing piece of gauze had been found in the clothes hamper. We proceeded. Suture,', came next-this I had carefully prepared beforehand, so in a split second I had it in the surgeon's reach. I want a round needle, not a cutting needle,'l instantly greeted my ears. Well, how was I to know? The patientls visceral structures certainly looked tough to me. Finally I emerged from the operating room. I was twice convinced this time Ild never spend another day in Surgery. And after a few weeks I saw that even I couldn't remain unlearned always in the arts of surgical technique. One morning I awakened to a realization that I liked preparing the sterile supplies, and anticipating the wants of those mighty surgeons, but my allotted time was nearly over. Everything that had seemed so difficult and complicated was in- teresting and much fun and I sincerely regretted the day I left Surgery. Still, to every new nurse, the mystery remains unsolved-what will the Doctor want next? f '43-