St Joseph Academy - Jomara Yearbook (Yakima, WA)

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THE AURORA Forty-one The full beauty of his life is known best to God. In one of his last letters home he wrote, Pray that I may love God more. It seems to me that I can learn to love God more passionately, more constantly, without distraction, so that nothing else matters. Except while we are in the trenches I receiveg Holy Communion every morning, so it will be all the easier for me to attain this object in my prayers. I got faith, you know by praying for it. I hope to get love thesame way. When Aline learned that a shell had ended the life of her husband she wrote: I f I had loved you more, God would have had pity. God is a jealous God. You have loved too wildly, You have loved too well! one said. I bowed my head, but my heart in scorn was crying That you, whom I had'hot loved enough, were dead. Throughout the lonely time that followed his death her heart yearned for the loving companion of former days. r - This should atone for the hours when I forget you, Take then my ojering, clean and sharp and sweet, An agony brighter than years of dull remembrance. I lay it at your feet. Before the world she appeared quite happy and the great love which she bore God and her children kept bitterness from her heart, but- Life seems only shuddering breath, A smothering, desperate cry, And things have a terrible permanence When people die. IRENE FEARON, '26 MARGUERITE HARRIS, '26. FELINE ETIQUETTE Thomas stole softly across the lawn, his wary eyes watching the actions of a small sparrow, who was industriously picking up a worm. Pounce! Pussy's paws held the small bird securely. The little creature gasped for breath. It was useless to struggle with the traditional enemy of his race, whose power made itself felt in every limb of the ach- ing, trembling little body. Nevertheless, the sparrow summed all his remaining breath to utter a scornful chirp. It's the first time, Master Thomas, that I've seen a well- bred cat eat without washing, he said. , This remark hurt Thomas' feelings. Why should people always say such unkind things? Wasn't t enough to have one's mother constantly boicing one's ears for un- becoming manners? Slowly Tommy raised his paws and began to wash his face. Whirr! The small sparrow was in a tree, and Thomas Cat, astounded, surprised, and angry was staring upward foolishly. Disgust was evident in everylmovement as he made his way to the rear of the house. Henceforth, he muttered, never again shall I, Thomas Cat, wash the hands and face of the aforesaid Thomas before meals. ERVILLA DUNHAM, '26.

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Forty THE AURORA LIFE OF JOYCE KILIVIER Alfred Joyce Kilmer was born at New, Brunswick, New Jersey, December 6, 1886. People who knew him as a boy described him as one of the funniest small boys they had ever seen, basing their characterization on the fact that he wore rather odd-looking clothes. In one respect at least he was very much like the majority of boys-he never acquired a great liking for school. Between the ages of eight and twelve he contracted a violent passion for a lady of thirty-five, who was his school teacher. It is told that at a preparatory school he made up his mind to stand at the head of his class, and he accomplished his purpose although hitherto this goal had seemed un- likely of his attainment. He graduated from Rutgers College in 1904 and received his A. B. from Columbia two years later. j In 1908 Joyce Kilmer and Aline Murray were married. It was plainly seen that theirs was a love-match, for their married life was one of happiness, made so by trials and hardships mutually borne. For several years Joyce was not only a successful hus- band and father, but was also a clerk, reporter, lecturer, editor and Writer. When he told his fellow clerks that he was a married man they looked at his youthful, jolly face and refused to believe him. When he announced that he was not only a husband, but a father they were willing to accept any statement he made, and if he had said George Washington made the Statute of Liberty, they would probably have nodded and said, Yes, that is so. It was during the time when his little daughter Rose was suffering from infantile paralysis that he and Aline found a Love greater than that which they had previously known which magnified their devotion for one another. They were received into the Catholic Church. Kilmer declared that he had always been a Catholic at heart but Rose's illness had made him realize it. His life and poems after his conversion were so filled with God and Love that they were like psalms. Many life-long Catholics wondered and were put to shame by this young convert's extensive knowledge of Catholic practice. The legends and ancient customs of the Church always gave him pleasure because in them his aspiring and romantic mind found 'food for thought. When Kilmer learned that the United States had entered the war he did not wait to be drafted but joined the 69th and took all possible shortcuts to get to France. He was at that time the father of four children-Kenton Sinclair, Rose, Deborah Clanton and Michael Barry. A short time after the angels had carried Rose's soul to Heaven Christopher was born, and a few days later Kilmer's regiment sailed to France. In No Man's Land Kilmer was an excellent soldier and fighter, a true friend to his regiment, and his natural happy self. From France came his best writings. The letters between him and his wife were wonderful because of the common bond of love between them 5 but his other letters were scarcely less beautiful and charming. His war poems were marvelous. Rouge Bouquet the best-known was so well-liked that the com- mander had a dozen copies made to send to his friends, and his fellow soldiers sent copies to their sweethearts and mothers. The war brought him nearer to human beings 3 it brought him from his little castle of dreams but it could not, thank God, destroy those delicate and imaginary strains of thought that were his-it made him more trustful and humorous than before. His essay Holy Ireland shows best the effect the war had on him. Although his bodily fatigues were great, yet his mind rose above them and he found beauty in life's coarsest materials. After reading his war poems, essays and letters we see a different Joyce Kilmer. Before, the poet was first but now the man advances. Strengthened by trials and nearness to humanity, he appears a radiant being, glowing with love and faith in God. The poet falls back and we learn to love Kilmer, the man. When Kilmer's buddies saw him lying on the ground with his face toward the camps as if trying to find the enemy's position they walked over to speak to him and found him-dead. He was buried beside Lieutenant Oliver Ames and on the cross above his were inscribed the words, Sergeant Joyce Kilmer-Killed in actionf'

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Forty-two THE AURORA THREE WAR POEMS Probably the three best-known poems written during the late war are Joyce Kil- mer's Rouge Bouquet, John McCrae's In Flander's Field, and Alan Seeger's I Have a Rendezvous with Death. The author of each was killed in action. The three poems deal with the subject of war deaths, but the keynote of each is different. The author of Rouge Bouquet looked at death from a spiritual plane, and death for such a noble cause held no terrors for himg his faith enabled him to picture it as the shin- ing gateway to a more perfect life. There is a note of prophecy in Alan Seeger's poem. He speaks of an engagement with Death, an engagement looked forward to with certainty and a touch of dread, but one that was not to be broken. When spring trips north again this year, And I to my pledged word am true, I shall not fail that rendezvous. The author of f'In Flander's Field places himself among the dead, who, falling, throw the torch of freedom to those who are to take their places in the ranks of battle. It is a solemn call from those who were the first to meet the enemy's advancing line, and sacrifice their all In Flander's Field, to those who should follow their noble example of devotion to duty. IRENE FEARON, '26 MARGUERITE HARRIS, '26. TO ROSE IN HEAVEN Little Rose Kilmer had spent but five short years in this world when God called her to Him, on the ninth of September, 1917. Her sweet pure soul had already flown to the gates of Paradise before Father Garesche heard that she was seriously ill. The news that his little friend had died came as a great blow to him, but after the sorrow of missing her had been softened by time he wrote To Rose in Heaven. In this poem Father Garesche asks Rose to tell him of the joys of heaven and of her welcome there. Had the beautiful angels come to put the flower of her soul in God's Golden Street to bloom? Had the little cherubs waited by the Gate for the coming of another flower and clapped their hands in glee? Did Heaven's Queen, Mary, come forth to welcome little Rose? But most of all he wanted to know how she had been wel- comed by the King. But oh, Most, most I crave to know How He came forth to find you, how the street Sang with His hurrying feet, The lit, adoring air was all aglowf' Perhaps God called Rose to Him just in time while her wondrous beauty was in its prime, and the fragile, tender bud had not yet been seared by contact with the world. In heaven all the beauty, pent in her sweet bud of frail humanity, burst into bloom and mirrored her Savior's glory. Time was when the kind priest could have told Rose of the troubles of this world, and warned her against temptations. But Rose in Heaven has seen God and found true happiness. J esus' soldier might now ask humbly for a crumb of her knowledge. DOROTHY STRAUB, '26.