CONTRITION Cry a little, sinner. Tears never hurt after the first sting. Cry and let your sins Turn into water and flow away With the eternal flood. Cry— No one will see behind your c105ed door. Cry and let your hands cup your face And catch your sorrow. Maybe—- Through your tears- You'll see a... Show moreCONTRITION Cry a little, sinner. Tears never hurt after the first sting. Cry and let your sins Turn into water and flow away With the eternal flood. Cry— No one will see behind your c105ed door. Cry and let your hands cup your face And catch your sorrow. Maybe—- Through your tears- You'll see a light And it will grow brighter and well up Into abrilliance of splendor Illuminating your face, your heart, Your soul. Then, sinner, You will be free from pain. You‘ll stand and shout your joy. You‘ll let your voice sing praise. The tears will come again out of ecstasy And peace. Cry, sinner, And let your heart Melt In His forgiveness. Linda Hanwick 11 Show less
SHADOWS Who are they That give life to the silence Of this small—town? Who are they That speak into the soggy walls Of the old houses lining the breathless streets ? Their faces melt into one, Behind the yellowed lace around the windows. Their voices are hidden in the grey Of the shadows Who are... Show moreSHADOWS Who are they That give life to the silence Of this small—town? Who are they That speak into the soggy walls Of the old houses lining the breathless streets ? Their faces melt into one, Behind the yellowed lace around the windows. Their voices are hidden in the grey Of the shadows Who are they. . . ? Who are they That move invisibly through the shaded streets? Their footsteps echo hollowly Across the cracked slabs of sidewalk, Across the beaten earth of the road. Their whispered voices seldom dampen the air Shrouding their thin forms. Whose feet have trodden the path Across the grass lawn? Whose hand has touched and opened the peeling door? (That curtain fluttered in the silent breeze. . .) The whispers I feel Sigh stronger in the evening winds. And the eyes f0110w me As my feet echo loudly Against the sagging porches. Lining these streets of silence. Linda Hanwick 12 Show less
SENIOR YEAR FRUSTRATION: A NEW LIFE NOW? Jane was in high school, her senior year to be exact. She had been look— ing forward to this year for many years and now it had arrived. A few weeks after school had begun, Jane began to let things slide. Her homework was never done anymore, outside... Show moreSENIOR YEAR FRUSTRATION: A NEW LIFE NOW? Jane was in high school, her senior year to be exact. She had been look— ing forward to this year for many years and now it had arrived. A few weeks after school had begun, Jane began to let things slide. Her homework was never done anymore, outside activities did not interest her in the least. Her mother thought it strange to see such a usually energetic girl sitting at home all the time. Many of her friends would call and want Jane to join them, but she always had an excuse so she would not have to go. Noticing this, her mother began to wonder if something was physically wrong. She ruled this out, however, because Jane had had a physical one month before school started. Her parents talked about it and decided that it must be some "teenage phase" she was going through. It was nothing to be- come alarmed about. All parents had these to figure out in their children. Jane continued in school with her grades continually getting worse instead of better. She was always tired. It was difficult for her to move from class to class. Climbing three flights of stairs was a real chore for her and seemed to take an eternity. Her attention span was short and she was very restless in class. Nothing held her interest anymore. The things she craved most were cold, cold water and sleep. Of course, many people had various cures for her ailments but none of these worked. Many said, "She should be taking vitamins. If she would get some fresh air and sunshine, she would be better off too. " One day she came down with one of those "fall colds. " This was then thought to be her major problem. "As soon as she gets rid of this cold every- thing will be fine, " was the opinion of many. This opinion did not last long because Jane's cold did not get better, but worse. Her mother, realizing something was radically wrong and not caring when Jane had had her last physical, called the doctor. A day later Jane was sitting in the waiting room of the clinic, half asleep. Her mother sat with an anxious expression, glancing often at her daughter. Jane‘s name was finally called. She wearily got up and walked into the exam- ination room. First she was weighed and was found to have lost thirty pounds in two months. Then various tests were given to her. She was then told to go home and to come back the next morning without breakfast for a sugar- blood test. This was a fine suggestion to Jane because she could not wait to get back to bed and to sleep. In the doctor's office the next monring, Jane found that she had an in- curable disease. Jane was a diabetic. She would be able to live with it and keep it controlled if she would take care of herself. No more could she en- joy those many sweet delights. Besides not being, able to eat many of her favorite foods, Jane had to orientate herself to the idea of giving herself injections of insulin. This was the one thing that bothered her the most. How would she ever jab that horrid needle into her skin? 13 Show less
At three o'clock of that afternoon, Jane was admitted to the hospital where she stayed nine days, during which time she learned many things con- cerning her disease. One of the first things she began to practice was that of giving an orange an injection of sterile water. This was in preparation... Show moreAt three o'clock of that afternoon, Jane was admitted to the hospital where she stayed nine days, during which time she learned many things con- cerning her disease. One of the first things she began to practice was that of giving an orange an injection of sterile water. This was in preparation for that future day in which she would first inject herself with insulin. The doctor told her that when she was able to give herself her shot she would be able to go home. For three days the nurse watched her go through the prep- arations of giving an injection: sterilization, filling the syringe with insulin, and finding a place to give the shot. Then came the hardest part of plunging the needle into the skin. Many times she would get the needle close to the skin. Her hand would be shaking like a leaf. The nurse would casually say, "Just a little farther and you will be in. " Then she would give up. After a few days of this, Jane was sick of her hospital room and did eventually make the courageous "sta . " She was released from the hospital at noon that day to begin a new and different life. It was at first hard for her to remember what she could eat and could not eat but she struggled with her diet and today eats better than many normal people. Jane will always have to take insulin and be on her diet the rest of her life; but when she is tempted to complain she often says, "What if I didn't have insulin?" Nancy Johnson A MIGHTY THANKS As twilight spreads its misty veil o'er all O'er peaceful slumbering lake before the night, Far -distant echoes of a blackbird call I hear; and mallards quacking in their flight. The fiery, blazing sphere is gone to lie Behind a vague and hazy row of pines; I gaze through fading hues of paling sky As crimson tints caress all the narrow lines. A cricket sends through me with simple talk A chill to make thoughts wonder aimlessly. I feel the might around me as I walk; The feeling - passes on eternally: I hope that peace will be throughout the land. I thank Him for the peace where now I stand. Gary Ellis 14 Show less
E _____) Ev / ‘— CHIDORI* Tottering over the sand With the gait of a drunken man; No destiny defined, Uncertain as the mind That sways with the wind of desire. Lost in the endless and wild, Cries out like a searching child Who trying to awaken At once feels all forsaken, Alone on the land by the... Show moreE _____) Ev / ‘— CHIDORI* Tottering over the sand With the gait of a drunken man; No destiny defined, Uncertain as the mind That sways with the wind of desire. Lost in the endless and wild, Cries out like a searching child Who trying to awaken At once feels all forsaken, Alone on the land by the sea. Trembling on wind-tossed sands A prey to the will of chance As one who nearly blind Is seeking for a sign, For something to steady the eye. Sadness is born in the heart That watches and must depart When winter's orphans sway, In rising to fly away And seek new strength in the waves. Solrum Hoaas *A winterbird by the sea in Japan 15 Show less
BLACK AND WHITE My city was an animal. It lived and breathed, Wheezed and died And went on living. My city was made of girders, Cement, iron, steel, wood And dreams. It was fastened and joined By sweat, blood, Rippling backs, Scarred fists - And sometimes love. Its eyes looked out upon itself At... Show moreBLACK AND WHITE My city was an animal. It lived and breathed, Wheezed and died And went on living. My city was made of girders, Cement, iron, steel, wood And dreams. It was fastened and joined By sweat, blood, Rippling backs, Scarred fists - And sometimes love. Its eyes looked out upon itself At night. Its yellow beams searched the streets And houses, The rivers and parks-- The people as they moved Into the hollow corners Facing the moon-stark avenues. Its mouth was filled By hundreds of ships Unloading, Day and night, Their cargoes of life Into the hungry arms 'Of my city. My city breathed And the air was filled to choking With soot, smoke, grease-- And lilting freshness When the trees along the avenues Began to spread their leaves. The heart of my city was large. It throbbed and pulsed life Through the veins of its body. Its beats could be heard And felt As its body moved Grew-~- And stretched its hands Into the waters Into the air, Into the lives of its soul. 16 Show less
In memory My city shall never die. Its voice shall rumble. Into the endless black nights; Its strength shall surge Through its countless lives As it towers above the earth And reaches into the skies. But perhaps-— Someday- When no one is looking, When no one cares, Someday my city may Roll her... Show moreIn memory My city shall never die. Its voice shall rumble. Into the endless black nights; Its strength shall surge Through its countless lives As it towers above the earth And reaches into the skies. But perhaps-— Someday- When no one is looking, When no one cares, Someday my city may Roll her eyes to the sky, Close her open arms, ' And disappear Into the shadow of centuries. Linda Hanwick R. I. P. When I am dead Do not be sad; Bring no flowers To my grave. Just let me lie—- in peace. When I am gone Let's have no tears; Say no kind words To my dead self. Just let me rest-- in peace. When I am dead Remember this; I lived my life In happiness. So le't‘me sleep-- ’ in peace. Ermon L. Deen 17 Show less
THE INESCAPAB LE DATE It was just one year ago today that grandfather and I made a trip to the state fair. I had saved my money since the beginning of the year so that I could enjoy a very eventful and fun-filled experience. Grandfather, too, had prepared. He was quite old and had been told by... Show moreTHE INESCAPAB LE DATE It was just one year ago today that grandfather and I made a trip to the state fair. I had saved my money since the beginning of the year so that I could enjoy a very eventful and fun-filled experience. Grandfather, too, had prepared. He was quite old and had been told by his doctor to take it easy. Just to be on the healthful side of things, and I think mother had much influence on this visit, Grandfather went to the doctor the day before we left for the fair grounds. The doctor had taken an electrocardiogram of grandfather's heart and had told him to come back that afternoon for the results. Since the doctor had read the electrocardiogram as being very good for a person of his advanced age, grandfather and I happily went to bed that night, resting for the next day when we would make the trip to the city to go to the fair. The next monring, then, we jumped into the car and started for the city. As I look back on it now, I remember that grandfather was more excited about going than I was. Don't think I wasn't though, because I was. Grandfather did not let me get a word in edge-wise the entire trip; he was busy talking about the many amusement rides that he was going to go on. He said that he had not felt well the last few years and that now that he had a "clear-bill-of-health" he was going to take advantage of it by partaking of as many rides as possible. When we arrived at the fair grounds, both of us jumped out of the car, grandfather locked it, and we ran to the admission gate. After grandfather had paid the admission for both of us we entered the fenced-in grounds. I can still remember the occasion: people were laughing everywhere; girls were screaming on the amusement rides which were making a continuous noise as they were moving around their set patterns; the calls from the food wagons announcing the "specials" of the day; and the calls and shouts from the barker who was announcing that the next side show was about to begin. All of these things come back to me so vividly, reminding me of that wonderful and event- ful day. Many were the rides that grandfather and I went on that day, and they were not just for the smaller children, either. We went on those rides that soared way up into the sky and then came back down only to go soaring up again. Yes, we had much fun that day but little did we know about what was hap- pening in grandfather's doctor's office that very same afternoon. Between rides (on various amusement rides), we visited exhibitions, pistol shootings, and animal barns. This seemed to be more strenuous on both of us than the rides had been because we had to walk so far. I suppose we would not have tired if there had not been so many people there, but there were thousands on the midway. You know how it is on a midway during a fair when there are many people walking. You have to jump this way and to jerk the other way if you want to avoid bumping into everyone or their trampling on you. Grandfather at times asked to rest on the benches that were off the midway and I obliged. I, too, was tired and needed the rest if I was to last the entire day. After we had ridden on a few more riders and had visited all the exhibi- tions, we headed for the car to begin our trip' home. Casually grandfather suggested that we eat supper before starting for home. We stopped then on the 18 Show less
midway for a chicken supper in one of the tents. After we had finished eat- ing, I asked grandfather if I could ride on just one more amusement ride. I had seen one ride that I had missed near the place where we were eating. Grandfather gave me the money for the ride and said that he wanted to... Show moremidway for a chicken supper in one of the tents. After we had finished eat- ing, I asked grandfather if I could ride on just one more amusement ride. I had seen one ride that I had missed near the place where we were eating. Grandfather gave me the money for the ride and said that he wanted to rest a little longer before the trip home anyhow. When I dizzily stepped off the ride I saw my parents, our doctor and a police officer hurriedly walking down the midway. I shou’ted to them above the noise of the crowd and they came running toward me. They asked me where grandfather was and I took them to him. On the way, they explained that grandfather's electrocardio- gram had been mixed up with someone else's by mistake and that grandfather's real electrocardiogram showed that he needed plenty of rest or his heart would give out and he would die. We finally arrived at the food tent where I had left grandfather. As we approached him he was looking up, with a smile on his face, at the ride I had been on. When the doctor approached him and touched him, grandfather slowly slumped over the table. He was dead. Bill Chartrand STORM Blackbirds scream their dissonant calls. Wings flap and glide As one by one dark bodies flutter and disappear-— The grey sky swallows the forms. Sounds of life Quiver in stillness and expectation. Whisper of rushing air slowly fills the silence As the winds announce the coming. Leaves against stiff branches Rustle and sway as Trees bend, nervously awaiting the storm. The air turns hazy green, yellow Heavy with breathlessness. Billows of gray over white race over the hidden blue, Their waving strands dark and foreboding. Waters seethe and squirm, Tossed in gaining fury Onto the battered rocks. Suddenly the clouds reach forth with misty hands Driving drops before them. A streak of light sears through the mass And the rains crash As the sky explodes in thunder. Tom in two, It cracks in fury. 19 Show less
Winds lash the earth-- Tear with their teeth. Drops gather, band together To flow over and gouge the land in their path. The earth shudders. Buildings quiver; windows explode. The sea, a maniac, crumbles the rocks. The winds moan in anguish. Trees strain their backs, bent to cracking. The muscles... Show moreWinds lash the earth-- Tear with their teeth. Drops gather, band together To flow over and gouge the land in their path. The earth shudders. Buildings quiver; windows explode. The sea, a maniac, crumbles the rocks. The winds moan in anguish. Trees strain their backs, bent to cracking. The muscles of the earth constrict Under-the whip of fury And she screams of her wounds Into the winds. An orange streak burns through the clouds And splits the back of a suffering palm. Then the earth lies back And weeps As the storm plays out its'madness. Soon the Wind‘s fierceness evaporates Into the moving clouds. The sea withdraws Leaving its remains dying on beaten rocks. Lightning passes into the still-warring sky. Rains fall in thinner sheets 45 the clouds slow their mad race. Then all grows quiet Listening to the steady whisper of the drops bu the abandoned debris. And the storm moves on ---- --. Linda Hanwick ONE PERSPECTIVE There's quite a bit of talk these days about the world and its events, The atom and the H-bomb, the fearful megaton; Man‘s home is still a nest But its on a shaky tree, and some would sigh There‘s not much hope for all‘s uncertainty. It seems God's played an awful joke Says Frost, on you and me ; He produced that apple He hung so temptingly. But was it God, The fruit to blame, 9 Or you and me . Harry T. Cleven 20 Show less
BEWARE OF THE CAT A water sprinkler made a feeble attempt to transform the parched grass of the park to the green carpet it had once been, but it was a feeble effort. The harsh sun beat down relentlessly. Several pigeons were sitting on the trodden paths, their beady black eyes flashing alertly.... Show moreBEWARE OF THE CAT A water sprinkler made a feeble attempt to transform the parched grass of the park to the green carpet it had once been, but it was a feeble effort. The harsh sun beat down relentlessly. Several pigeons were sitting on the trodden paths, their beady black eyes flashing alertly. Suddenly there ap- peared a sleek black cat; the pigeons flew up quickly, all except one, avidly eying a bit of bread near the cat. The cat flattened its body to the ground, flicked its tail, then in a flash, pounced upon the pigeon. The bird struggled but was helpless against the vise-like grip of the cat‘s claws. A pool of blood soon stained the ground where the struggle ensued. I turned away indifferently; I realized it was beginning to rain. Big drops fell, slowly at first, then furi— ously. It was one of those showers that creep up from nowhere. One moment the sky is clear, then the next, black and ominous. I did not want to get wet so I looked for a protective, diverting shelter. A near—by bookstore caught my eye. I went in. The store was long and narrow. Both walls were lined with books and also a row down the middle. There were only a few people around and one saleslady. At both ends of the shop were mirrors, the oneinback slightly tilted so it could be easily seen from the front. I took off my raincoat and inspected the store for a while. Soon my at- tention was attracted to the leather bound volumes on the middle shelves. I saw they were priced above the limits of my finances. I scanned a number of the books, recognizing many classics that I had enjoyed last year in school. I think if I ever have a library it will contain only leather bound volumes. Glancing up from the book I was admiring, I saw the saleslady moving toward the front of the store. She stopped about three quarters of the way down and began rearranging some books. The other people were also near the front, deeply engrossed in magazines. A feeling that had been asleep in my subconscious, awoke, yawned, and arched its back. I looked up at the mirror; I could only see the saleslady's image from the waist-down. The other people I could not see. I felt unobserved; confidently the feeling crept out of my subconscious on padded feet. I was not entirely aware of the sensa- tion, but I was trying to suppress it, like one does in church during a sermon on sm. The feeling, however, began to grow stronger. It was like trying to con- trol the letharg of sleep in the morning when one knows one must get up. I was now fully aware of what I was going to do. I could tell I was terrified and greatly excited simultaneously. Inside of me, a flickering, but intense, flame burned; I was perspiring and my clothes clung tenaciously. At the same time a tremor of excitement tingled along my spine. The feeling was at once fright- ening and exhilarating. I could not stop it and I did not want to. Again I carefully checked the position of the customers and double checked that of the saleslady. No one had moved. I held my raincoat over my arm so the pocket was easily accessible and yet concealed. Carefully and stealthin I slipped the book into the pocket. I felt like an over —inflated balloon ready to burst if it were not deflated. 23 Show less
Suddenly, words rang out, shattering my brittle security: "I have lost a book. " They sounded like the magnified words of some wrathful god condemn- ing the world to eternal damnation. I looked up slowly; my coat weighed down my arm as if the book were some tremendous burden. Fright was overpower... Show moreSuddenly, words rang out, shattering my brittle security: "I have lost a book. " They sounded like the magnified words of some wrathful god condemn- ing the world to eternal damnation. I looked up slowly; my coat weighed down my arm as if the book were some tremendous burden. Fright was overpower- ing the exhilaration. I was frozen to the spot where I stood. I felt like a high tension wire strong to its highest pitch. It had been the saleslady; she was looking straight at me. I was sure I had a scarlet "thief" clawed on my forehead. I was sure I could feel the blood dripping down my face. She came rapidly toward me, then stopped at a table a few feet from where I stood. ''I know it's around here somewhere. I just saw it. " For a moment I felt somewhat relieved, but the cruel tension grew at her proximity. The look on her face did not convince me she did not know, but yet she just stood there for a few moments before she turned away. Thoughts were running through my mind so swiftly that rational thinking was difficult. I thought I would have an opportunity to leave the store now. But there was a deluge outside; I would need my raincoat; the pocket! It was laden with the large volume. I could not put it on! Her words came back to me and continually bounced and resonated through my head. Questions flashed through my mind. Did she or did she not? Did she or did she not? What if she did? What would she do? What would happen if . . . ? Once again I looked at the mirror carefully checking the positions. I thumbed once again yearningly through the book, touched the soft leather surface, and then quick- ly replaced it. I selected another book I could afford and went hesitantly to the counter. I mustered up as much of my former confidence as I could and I asked the saleslady, "Did you find your missing book?" "Yes, " she replied with a little laugh, "It was right here all the time." She put her hand on a copy of Crime and Punishment. I walked out slowly into the rain. It streamed down my sweaty face. The obsessive claws loosened their grip, leaving me weak as though an elec- tric shock had just ripped through my body. The sun came out again, the clouds disappearing as mysteriously as they had come. The only evidence of the rain was the puddles of muddy water which were quickly evaporating under the growing intensity of the sun's heat. I sat down on a bench and slowly dried off in the sun. As I thought of what had happened, I laughed bitterly to myself and cursed myself for panick- ing, but deep down inside a vague fear persisted. The sun was as intense as it had been before the rain; the grass was still withering under the sun's fiery rays. I leaned my head on my arm, looking down at the ground behind the bench. There lay a dead, decaying pigeon; ants were slowly devouring the remainder of the flesh; the feathers were broken and bloody. Harry A. Oftedahl 24 Show less
FRAGMENT Gray mist Falls lightly. . . sodden leaves. . . Old buildings --gray, sad, looming buildings in gray mist. Students hurrying Soundless. . . velvet footsteps On gray sidewalks--a sad-eyed girl With cloudy hair and shabby coat melts wraithlike Into fog. A turbaned form--dark, sad, with... Show moreFRAGMENT Gray mist Falls lightly. . . sodden leaves. . . Old buildings --gray, sad, looming buildings in gray mist. Students hurrying Soundless. . . velvet footsteps On gray sidewalks--a sad-eyed girl With cloudy hair and shabby coat melts wraithlike Into fog. A turbaned form--dark, sad, with Hindu eyes of liquid brown--glides by in mystery. A lonely boy with downy chin Scans dreams with haunted eyes-- A macintoshed professor strides With purpose in his face. And in the stillness Trees hang ghostly, drooping arms Toward sullen buildings dank with mold. Drop and droplet fall in grayness—- Heaviness. . . mist. . . Julie Medbery MY NIECE'S MIND Like a flash of lightning on a cloudless day, Her wit would crackle through my languid soul, Sear through the cords of boredom dull and gray, To free the poor bound thing in laughter whole. Like the cool, sweet gurgle of a forest spring, The bubbling laughter of her gaiety Entrance my ear with music that could bring, From nature's full supply, wealth of sound to me. A rainbow reaching through the atmosphere, Her radiant charm bends right across my heart. It radiates like sunshine when she‘s near And makes my inhibitions fall apart. The world has nothing in my daily grind Quite so enchanting as my niece's mind. Susan Locke 25 Show less
PURPLE Underneath an oak tree Nestled in the moss Is an efficacious splotch of purple, Clinging close to the soft, damp earth; Modestly hiding from the world its "raison d'etre, " Improving Mother Nature's shining beauty. This cluster of color cuddled here, Buried deep within these murky swamps... Show morePURPLE Underneath an oak tree Nestled in the moss Is an efficacious splotch of purple, Clinging close to the soft, damp earth; Modestly hiding from the world its "raison d'etre, " Improving Mother Nature's shining beauty. This cluster of color cuddled here, Buried deep within these murky swamps Casts forth a glow like a gleam on a hearth; Brightens up the dreary, eerie darkness of these swamps; Reminding me of your short stay-- A bit of brightness for so short a time. Ermon L. Deen Show less
A TRIBUTE I think true love is never blind, But rather brings an added light, An inner vision quick to find The beauties hid from common sight. No soul can ever clearly see Another's highest, noblest part; except through the sweet philosophy And loving wisdom of the heart. Your unanointed eyes... Show moreA TRIBUTE I think true love is never blind, But rather brings an added light, An inner vision quick to find The beauties hid from common sight. No soul can ever clearly see Another's highest, noblest part; except through the sweet philosophy And loving wisdom of the heart. Your unanointed eyes shall fall On him who fills my world with light; You do not see my love at all ‘ You see what hides him from your sight! I see the feet that fain would climb; You see the steps that turn astray! I see the soul, unharmed, sublime; You, but the garment and the clay. You see a mortal, weak, misled, Dwarfed even by the earthly clod; I see how manhood, so perfected, May reach the stature of a god! Blinded I stood, as now you stand, Till on mine eyes, with touches sweet, Love, the deliverer placed his mighty hand, And lo! I worship at his feet! Darlene Fie ldseth SYMPATHY _Do leaves cry When one dies and floats To the ground and melts into the earth? Is their crying so quiet That none but the grasses Hear the sobs And feel the tears ? Come, my dear, into the forest And listen to the breeze If you want to feel the breath of sorrow, Stand underneath these trees. Linda Hanwick 2 7 Show less
SUMMER'S ENDING Camp Wapanacki lies at the crest of a mountain in Vermont. On a clear day one can see, for miles and miles, the green giants which have given Ver- mont the name of "the Green Mountain State." As the road starts its winding descent, bringing wilderness and civilization together,... Show moreSUMMER'S ENDING Camp Wapanacki lies at the crest of a mountain in Vermont. On a clear day one can see, for miles and miles, the green giants which have given Ver- mont the name of "the Green Mountain State." As the road starts its winding descent, bringing wilderness and civilization together, one can see nestled quietly in the valley below the little town of Hardwick. The tall, white steeple down there to the left is the Congregational Church. A little yonder toward the end of town one can see the dome of the Catholic Church as it raises its head above the tree tops. There, painted against the blue sky, the two churches say good morning to each other by their chimes. It reminds one of a pair of book ends, if one stands in the right position, holding the town securely to- gether. This setting, as fine as one can get without reading it in a book, seems like a dream. I can't make up my mind if this really took place or if it was just a figment of my imagination. I was expecting to spend the usual dull sum- mer, with the usual dull people, doing the usual dull things. At least that's what I thought! "Look, Ray! " Skip shouted. "The buses are crossing the bridge. I'll race you back to camp. " "O. K. , " I said, and took off. Reaching the counselor 's lounge ahead of me, Skip yelled to some of the counselors there and kept on running. "The buses are coming. " To these words some thirty counselors and cooks ran to the dining hall. Everyone took his place by different tables. All the food was arranged in the following clock-like fashion: potatoes at three o'clock, meat at six o'clock, and vegetables at nine o'clock. This rule for placing food was of the most importance as it is the way that blind children are taught to eat. The rearing of the buses mixed with yells, cheers, and songs broke the silence of a once quiet and peaceful camp. It was evident that the girls' session at camp had started. Six buses carrying eighty-nine camp- ers and twelve counselors came to a halt in front of the dining hall. The familiar "hellos" and "glad to see you backs" were mixed with tears from the younger set away from home for the first time. The girls were ushered into the dining hall and joined in the table grace before sitting down to the long- awaited meal. It was then that I first saw her. She wore a yellow dress with a white collar. Her hair was done up in a pony—tail. All she did was smile at me. Imagine a girl smiling at me. Funny, I never thought that a girl would give me a second look. She said not a word, but went in to join the others. "I wonder who she is? Must be at least eighteen, " I thought to myself, picking up her blue suitcase. "I wonder who she is. " At the dining table I could not eat. My eyes kept scanning the hall, trying to see the girl with the pony-tail. There she was, over there at the last table sitting with some older girls. The usual "jabber" of the girls filled the room. She sat quietly like the Mona Lisa with that famous mystic smile. I turned to Skip to ask him who the new counselor was, but before I could get 28 Show less
Skip's attention, the girls had been dismissed to their cabins. "Oh well, I'll see her later on at the lounge, " I thought to myself. I waited till eleven- thirty but she did not come. Tomorrow is another day. It was evident that I was not going to sleep tonight. I lay there on my bed in the... Show moreSkip's attention, the girls had been dismissed to their cabins. "Oh well, I'll see her later on at the lounge, " I thought to myself. I waited till eleven- thirty but she did not come. Tomorrow is another day. It was evident that I was not going to sleep tonight. I lay there on my bed in the darkness staring at the ceiling. All I could do was to think of some way to rush the night into tomorrow. I was up early. The sun, painted against an azure sky, greeted me. Even the birds, that only yesterday were pests, seemed to sing a special song for me. That morning at breakfast I saw her again. All she did was to wave her hand. r "Nice day. What department are you going to work in? " To all my questions she shrugged her shoulders. "Kathy," someone called, and off she went. "Hey, come back," I called. She just kept on running as a fawn does when frightened. "Kathy! So that's her name; Kathy. " I went to see if she was listed as a worker with me. To my dismay I did not find her listed with me nor with any other department. Skip came into the room and said, "What's the matter, Ray, homesick?" I told Skip about Kathy and of the disappointment of not being able to have a chance to talk with her. I told him haw she would look uneasy as if studying my face when I talked to her and how she would smile at me from a long way off and then play her little game of "cat and mouse" by not saying one word. "She can't, " Skip said. "What do you mean? " "She can't talk. She‘s deaf and dum . " Skip told me about Kathy. She was a special camper. She was deaf and dumb psychologically speaking. That night I felt awful. I must have embar- rassed her. I was determined to make it up to her. Skip taught me how to use sign language. When I had acquired a halfway decent means of communi- cation, we held conversations together. Kathy and I enjoyed each other's company and on our weekly trip to the little town in the valley she would giggle like a little kid. We had the most fun when I would mix my "P's" and Q's. " She would go through the long process of showing me h0w to hold my hand to form the right letter. Needless to say I forgot how to form letters on purpose. We would talk for h0urs in our special way and laugh at different things. I was the luckiest guy in the world. I think I even felt that I wanted to marry her. , Nature robs one of time and so, for us, those four weeks went like a bird on the wing. I had to come to the realization that in just two days Kathy 29 Show less
