St Marys Academy - Chimes Yearbook (Philadelphia, PA)

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lthhtea The run that brief December day Rose rheerlerr over hill: of gray. -john Greenleaf Whittier DECEMBER IS THE CUE for Lady Winter to don her cloak of shimmering silver and travel across the unsuspecting earth. Wherever she walks, life, with all its warmth, takes a leave of' absence, for the touch of Lady Winter is like the touch of Death. Lakes that once rippled in the gentle spring breezes stiffen at her touch and remain silent examples of her chilling powers. But, Lady Winter, though cold and heartless, is not entirely without beauty. There is something truly majestic in the still quiet of her reign. It is in the country that her majesty rules supreme. The No spring nor summer beauty hath meh grace, A5 I have seen in one autumnal face. --john Donne AUTUMN TO THE FARMER' means the harvest. lt is a very joyful occasion when he beholds the fruit of all his earlier labors fall under the sharp edge of the reaper, for he knows that it will 'assure him a new and better year to come. To the city dweller it brings a chance for renewed labor, a time to make up for all the opportunities he has missed during the past sea- sons: Rejuvenated after the warm summer, he takes up his appointed tasks with a determination todo better. Perhaps he will fail again, or maybe he will succeed. The important thing is that he will try. Books and teacher's dirty looks is how the school child interprets this season. A child's thirst for knowledge is easily satiatedg nevertheless, on he must plod until the very end, and paradoxi- cally enough, he is sorry when the spring -or the end of his school days approaches. Autumn is JOAN GREIPP, '51 roadsides, once covered with the fallen leaves of Autumn, are now buried under the soft blanket of snow that Lady Winter provides for her sub- jects. The rolling hills' green carpets are hidden beneath Winter's mantle, here and there a tree deprived of its foliage stands tall and alone with its leafless arms outstretched toward the heavens, beseeching the Snow Queen to surrenderi het throne to gentle Spring. The sun, startled by the white brilliance of the world below it, withdraws into the recesses of the hazy sky. All nature bows in mute subservience to her winter sovereign. Winter, Winter! The interlude of quiet peace among all the seasons. The death scene of the four act drama of the year. JANE RAFFERTY, '51 not without its recompenses. Witches and goblins combine to terrify eager chidren every Hallowe'en. Each November the family unfailingly marvels at how Junior can possibly consume so much turkey. 1 Autumn, besides being a division of the seasons, is likened in the above poem to a dividing time in our lives. The autumnal period of our existence marks our entrance into old age. During this season of our earthly stay we, like the farmer, should sit back and reflect over the good for evil, that we have sown during the past seasons--the spring, our youthg and the summer, our maturity. We should also be looking to the future-the winter, which is the last stop on our long journey home. Autumn is the time of dying in nature. The bright leaves are dropping lifeless to the ground, abandoning the trees which will soon be the bar- ren sentinels of the stormy winter. We mortals should not regard the autumnal period of our lives thus, but rather as a period of awakening. It is then that we realize how empty the pleasures seem from which we derived so much enjoyment

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ut of a Single Combat IN ALL WARS, heroes have arisen to write their names down in history. In this last World War there were almost three hundred winners of the Medal of Honor and many of these awards were given posthumously. But in the fight for souls which the Church is constantly waging, I think that Father Damien de Veuster stands out before all others for his fight against leprosy and for the lepers. Father Damien was a Belgian priest in the order, Society of the Sacred Heart. His very first mission was Puna in the Sandwich Islands. Often during his nine years there he had seen some of his people depart for the leper colony after they had contracted the dreaded disease. As he watched them wailing and saying good-bye to their families, he determined that someday he would go to the lonely outpost where these poor creatures were segregated from society. Now he was with the Bishop in a small out- rigger canoe which was taking them to the dock at Molokai. The Bishop was visibly disturbed. In his heart he wondered if he had done right in permitting Damien to stay with the lepers. At the dock, after a few fond goodbyes, the Bishop told Damien that he could stay for a week and if he didn't like it he could come back home to Puna. Then he left. As Damien watched the canoe depart, a sudden wave of loneliness and despair swept over him. He turned away and faced his flock who were wait- ing there for him. Many of them wore the grass skirts of the nativesg a few wore filthy and torn cotton garments. The bodies of the older men were rotting away, some who had the use of only one leg walked awkwardly on the stumps, others were without arms, others without lingers. The horrible purple-colored ulcers gave off sickening odors. There was curious loneliness in their eyes as they stood gazing at the newcomer. A young leper who was a little stronger than MARIE Louise Rrrcnorre, '51 the others led the way back to the settlement of Kalawao. When they reached the village, Father Damien surveyed the surrounding country won- dering how anyone could live in such a wild savage place. He went swiftly from one hut to another. The crude grass shelters were steaming with dampness and were charged with putrid air from the foul bodies of the lepers. On a rush mat in each hut, lay one or more lepers who were unable to move. In many of the shelters, men and women were dancing wildly after having drunk an alcoholic beverage from the ki. As the priest looked at the unfortunate crea- tures he realized that the Bishop had not exag- gerated in his description of the place. Many of the men and women had forgotten the moral law. The spiritual corruption oppressed him far more than the physical. He found the same condition in the other village of Kalaupapa, but there he found a church which probably had been built by some travelling missioner who stopped there. This he fixed up and he said Mass in it daily for the beneht of the lepers. His next big problem was the water supply. The spring which the lepers used was too far away for the more seriously ill. So he begged some piping from the Hawaiian government and with the aid of the stronger lepers whom he had to cajole into working, he built an aqueduct for the colonies. During all this time he had no place to sleep except under a convenient palm tree. He learned how to care for the sick by watching the visiting doctor who stopped at Molokai regu- larly. He washed the wounds, bandaged them, and sometimes operated on the lepers when necessary. He built a hospital capable of housing one hun- dred of the sickest lepers. Father Damien really worked wonders on the island and made known to the whole world the situation of the lepers. He himself died of leprosy on April 15, 1889, but his work lives on.

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in our youth. True values are now apparent. At this stage, life has given us most of the answers and knowing the answer brings with it a sense of satisfaction, even though, at times, of regret. Like the city dweller we should seek to rectify all our past mistakes. It is never too late to make amends. .For those who are growing old, formal school- ing has long since ceased, but no matter what our age, we can still learn. Experience is the best teacher and, by the time we have reached the K . . Ah, what if Jo rare ar 4 day in june. --lame! Rurrell Lowell AH, WHAT IS SO RARE AS A DAY IN JUNE ! Especially since I registered my first squeal on june twenty-first, the beginning of sum- mer. Those were hectic or shall I say heated days. They placed me in a two by four crib which never gave me enough room to squirm around to avoid the heat. I often wonder if this is the reason why I'm only five foot two. As I became acquainted with the other babies, we worked out a system that each would take a turn crying so that the nurse would come breezing through and provide a bit of air. Finally, they bundled me up and we journeyed home. Everyone wanted to hug and squeeze me so that by the time they were through I could have been wrung out. Even yet I can feel those uncomfortable undershirts, diapers, and blankets clinging to me as if they were afraid to let go. Sometimes I used to recline in my coach with the merciless sun beating down on my bald head and ponder over why I had to select such a season for my birthday. I came to the conclusion that I probably wouldn't have many crosses to bear in later life because I was having them all now. Perhaps the worst cross of all was the time when the family decided to travel to the seashore. The car was loaded down with bag and baggage. Fre- quently I feared they were going to pack me up in a suitcase by mistake. All the way down I clung to Mother for dear life. This driving busi- ness was mighty peculiar. Nevertheless, I thought autumnal period of our lives, we certainly do not lack experience. Old age is not a time to be dreaded, but rather to be anticipated with a certain feeling of gladness. It is considered so enviable a state that God has promised it as a reward for those who are nearing the end of a well spent life. The wish that we may live to see our children's children is incor- porated into the marriage service. What further proof do we need to appreciate fully what should be the most fruitful time of our lives. PAT HARTSOUGH, '51 I'd better mind my P's and Q's, so I settled back and drank a nice warm glass of milk. By the way, have you ever had warm milk on a hot sum- mer's day? Most invigorating! To skip a few minor incidents, we arrived. Everyone wanted to take me to the beach. I thought they'd pull off my arms and legs. It was agreed fand I still say a prayer of thanks, that mother should carry me. As you know, a young child such as I, is not allowed in the water. Nevertheless, Mother being a pious woman, the day being the feast of the Assumption, and the custom being to bathe in the water three times, Mother decided she should begin my Catholic training early. The first time she poured a little on my face, the second time my feet became a little chilled, but the third time proved disastrous. A little boy wanted to see Baby, so Mother proudly displayed me. The child must have remembered that opportunity knocks but once for he proceeded to tip his bucket in my direction. Someday I'll find that imp! The most fun was arollin' up the boardwalk. The only time I became worried was when my brother sent the coach flying and then chased after it. Some people were so thoughtful that when they saw me coming they would step aside. Some would even stop. my coach before it traveled over the railing. ' When the still sky glowed with radiant stars, when a soft wind blew my curl, when the fisher- men cast their lines into a moonlit sea and all the children rode the hobby horses, then it was, that I enjoyed the Summer most fully. Yes, what is so rare as a day in june?