St Marys Academy - Chimes Yearbook (Philadelphia, PA)

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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?

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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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I love the roadside birds upon lhe topr Of dusty hedges in a world of Spring. --Francis Ledwidge PRINGI Are there words enough in this or any other language or even in a combination of all the tongues of the world to describe adequately the wonders of this glorious season? l doubt it, for Spring doesn't mean exactly the same thing to any two people. To your next door neighbor it might mean putting up the screens or painting the new fences or planting seeds. Mother probably connects house- cleaning with Spring when she will go over your abode thoroughly from top to bottom. Hundreds of birds chirping on the telephone poles aren't exactly welcome to sister on a Spring morn, after she has stayed out too late the night before. But no matter how much grumbling and scowl- ing it might bring to some unappreciative souls, to all it gives of its beauty and peace. Mother Nature, paint brush in hand, splashes a rhapsody of hues throughout the world and with each stroke hearts become lighter and the sorrows and mis- llsmt S' E ll A ,rparkling eye and :harming Jrnile Vivaciour, yet serene, Buhbling laughter, childish glee Prove rhe'r sweet sixteen. Old man Gloorn and rainy dayf, Troubles and lrials are seen ll i1h hopeful eyes and rheerful .rrnile When one i.r sweet Jixleen. Cherry rahef, banana rplilx. Sweet music, rerordingr keen, A corner booth and a football .rtar Are heaven at .rweel rixleen. ' joan Donnelly. '53 Mxncus Ronacu, '51 fortunes of Winter are forgotten. It's the one time during the year when Mother Nature becomes a little vain, like a woman modeling .1 new dress who adds a flower here and there to enhance her natural beauty. When else during the year do you see life about you in everything? When else could you come upon a newly hatched bird, fallen from its nest and the sweet protection of its mother's wings? You see its wonderment at the strange world and its feeble attempts to call for its mother. Spring, in fact, is like a new born babe itself, full of life and love. It stretches its arms out to the hearts of all those who would embrace it. lt brings renewed courage and hope to hearts disillusioned with the cares of the world. The old become young again as life takes on a new meaning. All ages are encouraged to strive toward higher goals which stop at nothing less than conquering the world. Spring, then, is ushered in as the season of life and new hopes after the drabness and deso- lation of icy winter and as an introduction to the growth of these living things and the fulfillment of these hopes in the summer months that are to follow. Wiatlwa Mary, 1l'illJ her guiding hand Taught the King of all the land,- Taughz obedience and truth, Taughl perferlion lo lhir Youlh. Mary laid her motherly heart Open, lo be torn apart By the seven Jufordr of grief Which lasted long wiihaur relief. So much help ir needed now. Tearh all mothers, show lhem how To gnide lheir children for lhe bert, So with you .romeday lhey'll rerl. Pat MrKenna, '52