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... c5'rCarian College Indianapolis, Indiana Let us thanlt God that He makes 1IS live among the present problems it is no longer permitted to anyone to be mediocre. -POPE PIUS XI THE FIORETTI AN ANTHOLOGY OF MARIAN COLLEGE PROSE AND VERSE VOLUME SIX Marian College Indianapolis, Indiana 1948-1949 CONTENTS Frontis piece _________ _____________ _.. ___ ......................... _. -_. -.................. -... -.... ... ....... 3 Editorials ...... _...... ____ ................. _... _. __ ._ .... _._ .... _.. ___ .... __ ._ ..... _... _............. :....... 5 Souvenir ___ .__ . __ .. ____ .___ ... _...... _..... _... _.. _...... Barbara Hipp '50 __ .................... 6 Inner SighL .. __ ._ .... _._ ........ _._ .................. Patricia Parker '49_................... 7 Erin Go Bragh ...................................... Betty K ennedy , 52.................... 8 Fantasy of the Flowers ......................... Patricia Feighner '52 .. _............. 10 They Knew Him NoL ........................ _Sarah Page '49 ............................ 12 Beloved T hier .... ---....................... ..... - Wanda Lee Jacobs' 52................ 14 Constitutional Democracy ..... _............. Alice Raben ' 51 ........................ 15 Rain_ ...... _............ __ ................................. Barbara R eeves ' 52.................... 16 H amleL ................................................ _Barbara Schenkel '49................ 17 Pew Pests ..... _........................................ Peggy Wimberg '52 __ ................ 19 T he River ..... _........................... _............ Barbara Schenkel '49 ................ 20 Elizabeth Goudge ................................. Jane Monaghan '49 .................... 21 Hope ..... _................................................ Mary Jane Porter '49 ..... __ ......... 22 My Father's Sons __ ... __ ..... _....... _............. Suzann R eith' 52_._. __ .................. 23 Big Girl .. _.............................................. Mary Patricia Sullivan '49 ........ 24 Parched ................................................. _Amy Snapp '51 ........................ 26 Books reviewed by "Seven Storey Mountain"._ ............... Amy Snapp '51 .......................... 27 "The Se1/,?1l Miracles of Gubbio" ___ ___ Mary Jane Porter '49 ................ 28 "Disraeli" ...... __ . ___ .............................. _Betty K ennedy '52 .................... 29 "Dolly Madison" ............................... Mary Wassel ' 52..... ___ ................ 30 Gynz nasium .......... _... _.................................... _....... _.. ... ........... ................... 31 Pa frons _... _... __ .... __ ................. _.. _.... _._ ......._.... __ ........ ....... ................. ............. 32 The Staff Editor SARAH PAGE Assistant Editors MARY HELEN WELLS BARBARA SCHENKEL JEAN MORTLOCK Business Manager JANE MONAGHAN Circulation Manager MARTHA 2 BAASE Frontis piece Our Peace "H ave pity on Me and I will have pity on you . .. I will give you peace." These were words spoken by the Holy Infant of Prague to His zealous disciple, Father Cyrillus. So it is to the Divine Infant we appeal to grant peace to the world-a world that needs peace in spirit before it can hope for material peace. Behind the Holy Infant appears His Blessed Mother. One hand of the Virgin is stretched forth benevolently giving her Son to the world that it might find jJeace in Him, while the other hand beckons to humanity to follow the Prince of Peace. 1'0 the left appears a burning candle symbolizing the living faitb of Christendom. It is held high by those in the service of the Little King so that i-l might not be extinguished by the forces of evil. Mayall lovers of peace join in His ranks as He raises His hands in benediction over them saying, "1' he more you honor Me, The more I will bless y ou." --Sarah Page 4 EDITORIALS "Rich man, poor man, beggar man, thief, Doctor, lawyer, merchant, chief." How many times have you counted off your buttons to see what you were going to be when you grew up? And now that you are growing up, how are you helping yourself decide? Surely there is a whispered prayer now and then for that intention. Is that prayer sometimes directed to Mary, patroness of all vocations? Under that title Our Blessed Lady can help you choose your path, and then be a steady helpmate all along the way. Certainly every young bride should look to Mary as her special guide in her new life. As the perfect wife and mother Our Lady was devoted to her family, fulfilling the role of housewife with ease, grace, and competence. Mary was blessed to be the first teacher of the Holy Infant, guiding His first steps, hearing His prayers. reading with Him in the Holy Scriptures. After the death of her Divine Son she taught the Apostles, giving them intimate details of information about Christ and renewing their faith. In this role Mary serves as model for all teachers. Poets and musicians are wont to call upon the Muse for inspiration. How much more fitting to turn to Mary. They have only to con the lines of her glorious Magnificant for a majesty arid dignity ot words and a sweeping rhythm of lines that instantly uplift. Tradition tells us that Mary was at the deathbed of Joseph and' there is no doubt that she tenderly nursed him through his illness. Nurses and doctors alike therefore can take their cue from Mary. And what lawyer ever interrogated a witness with more finesse and - diplomacy than Mary when she questioned her angelic visitor? Study if you will the inclusive brevity and politeness of her cross-examining of Gabriel. Not a word was wasted and yet at no time did she presume upon the integrity of the Heavenly Messenger or his Master. Lawyers and diplomats, take heed. Mary even serves as a model for the policeman. Surely no officer of the law ever searched more diligently or thoroughly for a lost child than Mary did for her Son. Persons whose work demands regular traveling can be comforted by Mary who obediently and patiently traveled to Bethlehem, even to faroff Egypt and back again. The examples could be multiplied -each of us can add our own. And whatever the individual prayer may be, we can swell a mighty chorus, Mary, patroness of all vocations, pray for us! -Sarah Page EDITORIAL There is a difference between seeing and comprehending, between existing and living, between living with faith and living by faith. In the maelstrom of modern life faith is usually regarded as an accessory, something to be slipped on or off as occasion demands. touched by the world and its charms. As we grow older, the bonds of religion which once held us so finnly become shredded and weak. We drift into a state of religious lethargy which is extremely dangerous. To strengthen ourselves we must seek in our faith those elements which we can relate to our daily lives. Contrary to common belief, these are innumerable. The Apostles, the saints, the prophets were human as we are human, yet through the integration of their lives and the Christ-life they lived by faith. Many professed Christians section their lives into compartments one secular, one religious. In affairs of cult and religious observance they follow Christ's teachings, but in their everyday life they observe principles in direct opposition to those of the Saviour. These people live with faith. Christ was a perfect man and He lived by faith. He would ask nothing of us which would be impossible to our human nature. The deliberate effort of infusing the spirit of Christ into whatever we do must, like all h abits, be acquired. Let us practice this and successfully live by faith. The integration of Christ's teachings and our smallest action is necessary for the true Christ-life by faith. This is often difficult in a world guided by materialistic principles, but the rewards are bounteous in this life and the next as well. Faith is usually strong in early life when we are comparatively un- ~Barbara Schenkel SOUVENIR A tear, trickling down a dirt stained cheek, A smile, tender in its loving innocence, A curl, pressed between the leaves of some ponderous bookA look, of heaven, Wise as any cherubimA child. -Barbara Hipp 6 by PATRICIA PARKER why shouldn't he be happy ... going home to a family in a few days." A phrase of the visitor's words drifted through his thought and Jim said "I beg your pardon?" The young artist repeated "I'll bet you're artistic, even sentimental yourself." Jim snorted and felt uncomfortable. "Would you like for me to describe your view for you?" the voice came softly. Dr. Jim Blake scowled and surprised himself by nodding. And there was the spring ... first green buds on swollen branches ... lavender crocuses nodding shyly from the hospital walks . . . lawns of emerald plush . . . interpreted as only an artist could -interpret . Jim was silent for a long time, straightening only when the nurse came for the visitor. "Thanks ... " he hesitated, " .. . more than you know." \'7hen the nurse returned, he asked about the artist. After many pointed inquiries, he said "How long will he be blind?" The nurse raised an eyebrow, then frowned, "how did you . . . " "There's one thing I knew that he didn't," Jim said slowly, "and it's given me something to think about. If he can be so cheerful, I guess I can, too. You know, you forgot to tell him before he described my view of the grounds ... I have an inside room." Dr. James Blake was a bitter man, as are many men who work for fame the hard way, then suddenly are blind. Worse than the gnawing bitterness, he was beyond comfort . . beyond hope. For he was a doctor, and why did they try to lie to him about if he'd only try .. only try to have hope ... only try not to think in terms of blackness. So he sat in his hospital room and thought of the spring. Spring -1949. How he wished he could be walking with Jeanne as they used to do before he left her to seek fame. He had the fame, but then the accident, and he'd never send for her now. Spring! The door opened and Miss Grimes swished in, pushing what sounded like a wheel chair (he was beginning to distinguish sounds), then swished out. From his side came a masculine voice. "They tell me you're Dr. Blake." Jim nodded, actually a bit pleased with this unexpected diversion. "And you?" "Don Sanders, an artist," the visitor volunteered, "uh .. hurt in a fire." "When will you be out?" asked Jim, and felt a twinge of resentment at the retort " . . . oh, soon, I think." As they talked, Jim was thinking to himself "this happy fellow ... but 7- by BETTY KENNEDY Poor Mike, everyone took advantage of him. But today was different. Bustling, busy Cora had hurried Mike through his breakfast. "Michael, hurry, you'll be late for work." ''I'll take my time; pour me another cup of coffee." Cora shook her head in wonderment as she watched her husband walk out the door of their modest little home in Crown Street. Mike Connelly had never acted like this before. Never! What had gotten into him? Why he had shown his Irish today! Not that you couldn't tell that Mike was Irish. His brogue, brought over the blue with him sixteen years ago, was still with him, his black hair and blue eyes, his merry smile and ready laughter, all betrayed his nationality. And next to Cora and little Mike and Cathy, Eire was closest to his heart. But Mike just didn't have the temperament of an Irishman. Cora had expected the usual meek, "Yes, Cora." She never drank coffee herself and she disapproved of anyone's drinking more than one cup a day. "You know it's bad for your heart and you haven't time." "Pour me another cup of coffee," this commandingly. Cora obeyed quickly. She was astonished. Mike had never talked back to her before. Mike was timid. Yes, timid. In all the years that Cora had known him, he had not once lost his temper. He was meek. Everyone bossed him. He was henpecked not only by his loving wife, but by all he came in contact with. Even the milkman told him what to do. Just yesterday Cora walked into the kitchen to find Mike humbly carrying the four daily bottles of milk up the three flights of stairs and carefully placing them in the ice box. "I will not, and let it rain." Mike pecked his wife on the cheek. "Goodbye, Cora." He went out and slammed the door. "The milkman was tired," Mike explained. Cora sat down and poured herself a cup of coffee. Mike finished his breakfast, picked up the morning paper, and began to put on his coat. "Wear your overshoes, Michael; it may rain." 8 Mike looked up indifferently. It ' was Fischer, his foreman. It was common knowledge at the plant that Mike Connelly was afraid of his six-foot, gruff-voiced boss. Mike reached the corner just as the trolley pulled to a stop. He was about to step on when Tim Hogan, a brute of a man rushed up and proceeded to push Mike aside, as was his daily custom. "Is there something?" Mike queried, with the air of an annoyed man. "Just a minute, my good man," said Mike. "I was here first." And with a superior air, he stepped up. Fischer blinked; "Is there something?" he mimicked. "Why aren't you at your machine?" "Sure, sure, Connelly," Hogan answered, shrugging his shoulders. Now what in the world has happened to him? Mike returned to "'Tisn't time yet." The trolley stopped at the King Machinery Co. and Mike alighted ahead of ten of his fellow workers. He usually got off last. But tod ay he was different. his paper, Scratching his head, Fischer turned and left. "What's got into him?" he wondered. Mike's eyes fondled the paper as he continued to read the article headlined It was ten minutes to eight so Mike went to the recrea tion room, sat down, and unfolded his paper. IRELAND BECOMES INDEPENDENT TODAY. "Connelly! " 9 flINT lISY Of THE fLOWERS by Held by life's gripping chain, prisoner of a dream, aged, depressed, the sale survivor of a wealthy family clung to a desire of recapturing a youth which had long flung back her vibrant head and passed him by. He had given his whole life to a strange occupation -that of cultivating flowers for the purpose of drinking in their youth and vitality to the extent of attaching each natural change to his own long suffering life. The birth of each new bud recalled to this eccentric old man the first vibrant meeting , with the sparkling . ' eyes and rosy cheeks of fair youth. With the soft unfolding of the tender petals to full bloom he rose into starlit heights crowded with hopes and dreams so beautifully synbnomous with youth. When life began to slacken its hold upon the lovely flowers he stamped out that life remaining, afraid of the inevitable death which rohbed his charges of their beauty-too sharp a symbol of his own passinginto the shades of night. PATRICIA FEIGHNER petals unfolded. One flower unveiled to the wide-evc::d man the soft whiteness of a ne~ fallen snow; the other, startling by its contrast, flashed defiantly a shining ebony bloom. Suddenly from the center of the black beauty a tiny flame flickered, and simultaneously a soft scent arose from the white flower. The man shielded the candle beside him, but still the tiny flame gave light and the fair bloom continued to exude its perfume. Then, as if from nowhere, a soft voice echoed through the room, first faint and indistinguishable, then loud and clear . Oh man of softest touch and gentle care To you I give a gift of greatest good. That you may have eternal youth and love If but somehow you can Kill this black companion of your world This which accompanies man and robs Him of his birthright to a star. With bitterness within your heart Your taste will ever be insipid, But flaunt before the lace of evil a rose And your soul shall be as sweet. You have the night no longer. This night, eerie with its inky darkness, he kept vigil with one of his rare plants. For weeks he had been anxiously awaiting the appearance of the flowers which blossomed only once a year, on the eve of St. Aloysius, patron saint of youth. On the stroke of midnight the large 10 The work of his years of tender care was destroyed before his eyes. The man wept bitter tears and cursed the force which propelled the onslaught. Yet neither stamping, slashing, nor cursing withered the plant. Suddenly he fell to his knees, his eyes raised toward the heavens, his lips moving prayerfully. The gigantic plant wavered, then like a storm spent of fury, gave one last weak gesture, drooped, and died. The man smiled faintly, the first smile for many years which had opened his heart. He arose, half consciously, from his position on the floor and slowly began to clear away the wreckage. Within himself he found a new peace, the realization of release from a lifelong fear and pessimism. As dawn glimmered through the window pane came new assurance-out of the wreckage a new flower-a new life. The road of life is short; The destination is eternal. The voice drifted dreamily away and the man was left alone, staring unbelievably before him as the fragile snow flower withered, then died. Wildly the ebony flower began to grow. With a frightened cry the old man rushed to the door for escape, but the door was impassible. He was trapped like a fly in the web of a spider. The flower continued to increase in size; the petals curved downward to the floor below, lapping space like a thirsty man. Viciously stamping upon the petals the man sought to destroy them. He slashed madly at the stem with a piece of garden cutlery but failed to effect even a scar. Rather the plant, ominous in its blackness, plunged onward, smashing tools he had perfected, devouring many of his choicest blossoms. 1.1 by SARAH PAGE The lad hopped out of bed, donned his clothes rapidly and sped across the small courtyard to the workshop to call the head of the f amily to breakfast. Breakfast over and the dishes washed and put away, the young mother shoved her son out to play. No sooner had the child stepped out into the brilliant morning sunlight than a group of children playing under a nearby tree spied him and one of them called. "Hurry up! Come on over. We've been waiting for you. \Ve want you to meet Paul and James. Their family just moved in." As the boy joined the little group one said, "Well, what shall we play today?" "Let's play house," suggested one of the girls. "No! no!" vetoed the boys. "I've got it," said John. "It's really too hot to do a lot of running around, so let's tell stories." This suggestion was unanimously approved. "You begin" John said to the dark-haired lad, his dearest friend, " 'cause you always tell the best stories anyway." So the youngster who had just joined the group began. Gaily, beams of sunlight danced through the window of the little cottage and shone with affection upon a young woman busily at work preparing breakfast for her little family. Deftly she rolled out dough, cut it and placed it in the oven. Then with swift movements she set the table for three. She paused for a moment touching one slender finger to her temple and surveyed the table to see that everything was in place. With light steps, she 'went into the little room ::djoining the kitchen. "Get up you little sleepy head! Breakfast is ready." Stepping closer to the bed she leaned over a small boy about ten years old. She gently rumed his dark curly hair and bent to kiss him. He opened his eyes, and though the mist of sleep still hung over them, their brown depths were amazing. "Good morning, mother!" Then sitting up abruptly in bed he said, "Mmm. Something smells good!" "\Vell, hurry, dear, and get dressed. There's someone who's been up long before you or me and I want you to call him to breakfast."~! 12 "Let me explain . . . Please let me show you . . . " "Go home! Go on home! You're a liar and my mother doesn't want me to play with liars." White faced with terror, John stood helplessly by and watched the other children with true mob spirit pelt his dearest friend with stones and pebbles. Still protesting the lad was forced to run home. Flinging open the door, he ran sobbing into his mother's comforting arms. "Mother, oh, mother . . . " and then he broke into sobs again, crying not so much because of the physical hurt but because he ' had been misunderstood. "It's all right, son. It's all right. Hush, now . Hush ... " And somewhere from the past she seemed to hear an ancient voice echoing and rechoing. " . . . he was wounded for our iniquities, he was bruised for our sins: . . . and by his bruises we are healed." Soon, with the true gift of the storyteller, he had his audience in complete attention as they listened to his beautiful story. Transported into another world they listened to his every word as if to miss one meant that they must come back to the world of reality all too soon. Suddenly the spell was broken as one of the new boys broke in rudely, "But that's not right!" "James is right," said his brother. I don't believe he should have to return the ring! After all if he found it, it's his. Why should he have to give it back?" "Don't you see," explained the calm unperturbed lad, "just because he found it didn't mean it was his because ... " "Finders keepers! Finders keepers!" broke in the other children. "Paul and James are right." "Go on home." sneered James. "And here's some stones to help you along," and picking up some stones his brother began to throw them at the boy. THE LITTLE THINGS Have you wondered, as have I At things for which small children cry? A broken doll, a skinless knee, A harsh word spoken spitefully? \\7ill you weep when childhood's past For shlttered dreams, and sigh at last In hope for better things to be, For joy, for peace, eternal charity? I have. -Barbara H ipp 13 BELOVED THIEF Because, somehow, you've looked into my heart, And heard its loudest and its lightest beat, Have watched its foolish ways and kept no chart Of what you deemed appropriate or meet; Because you've wandered tangled paths of thought That wound about my much bewildered mind, And condemnation of me never sought, Nor seemed surprised at strange things you might find; Because you've overlooked my childish deeds, Yet, wisely, have not overpraised my good, And taught me in my piteous needs To crucify myself on Christ's own rood; Beloved thief, you stole my heart for God, And set my footsteps in the way He trod. -Wanda Lee Jacobs 14 CONSTITUTIONAL DEMOCRACY by ALICE From the first encroachments of the British upon our ideal liberty up to the present time, freedom-loving Americans have labored and fought and prayed to preserve the rights which we consider necessary to the fulfillment of our role as free citizens of a just government. Our forefathers fought the Revolutionary War when they became aware of the fact that liberty was losing its significance, and our forefathers drew up the constitution as a "black and white" assurance of that liberty which was to exist as long as justice exists. I t was to make more certain tha t the natural rights of their fellow citizens would be respected that the great statesmen of our infant nation met at Philadelphia in May, 1787. These statesmen were of the conservative class, but they were a group of men with practical ideas who realized not only their own individual needs, but the needs of the na tion as a whole. E ach man came to the convention with visions of an ideal yet practical type of government - a type of government which would hold justice and liberty and respect of man's natural rights above all else. To most of these statesmen, the qualifications for this type of government would be fulfilled in a democracy. But there is ambiguity in the word democracy, and before it can be rightly determined whether or not our constitution forefathers estab- RABEN lished a democracy, we must distinguish between the pure democracy of the Greek city-states and the modified democracy of modern times in which the government exists in all matters for the good of the people. Certainly it is the latter kind of democracy that underlies each word and phrase of the constitution. It is not a pure democracy, for the rulership is confined to those representatives chosen by the free vote of the people. These representatives are under obligation to judge and rule by the criterion of right reason and that which will promote the common good, whether it be the opinion of the people or not. The constitution then retains a democra tic tone, a tone that reveals the nation existing for the good of the people, promoting their freedoms and liberties, and administering justice and reason. St. Thomas' conception of the essence of good government is exactly what our forefathers attempted to b r i n g forth in the constitution - law as an ordination promulgated for the common good by representatives who have been appointed by the government. From 1787 to 1949 the government of our country has retained this democratic element with no radical changes. We have been aware, however, all through the intervening century and a half that (Please Turn to Page 26.) 15 RAIN There are tear drops on the window pane, Left there sparkling bright By a billowing, stormy cloud, That passed by in the night. They gleam like jewels of fairy queens, . Catching rays of light, Blending into pools-and glow Like moonbeams in the night. The sun blooms forth to view the scene, The clouds scud swifty by, The tears turn quickly into mist, And float up to the sky. -Barbara Reeves "The play's the thing in which I'll trap the conscience of the king." A [ONSIDERATION OF HAMLET by BARBARA SCHENKEL to characterize so lucidly reached its peak in the creation of Shakespeare's greatest tragic hero, Hamlet. But so subtly is characterization interwoven with plot that one is never conscious of any conflict between the two. The climax and crisis in Hamlet occurs in the play scene (III). To achieve this dramatic high point Shakespeare employs a frequentlyused literary device, the reenactment of a crime to trap the criminal. The "play within a play" is f 0 u n d in several Elizabethan dramas, but only Shakespeare has been able to create the dramatic suspense found in Hamlet. The young prince, Hamlet, suspecting his Uncle Claudius of his father's murder, seeks proof of the crime in order to carry out the revenge demanded by King Hamlet's ghost. Four things spur Hamlet on -his father's murder, a desire to find out whether his mother is im- During the reign of Queen Elizabeth a number of brilliant dramatists produced plays for the eager hordes of Elizabethan theater-goers. But one man of this group stands alone. He wrote plays which were regarded as outstanding by his contemporary critics and which now are recognized as the very best works of a period noted for the exceptionally fine quality of its drama. Like almost all authors, he produced one work into which he put heart and soul, his greatest powers of characterization; this is his masterpiece. The author - William Shakespeare; the play- Hamlet. It is often said that Shakespeare was the greatest psychologist who ever lived. Some ardent Freudians may dispute this point, but everyone must agree that Shakespeare could penetrate and interpret human nature as no other author has ever been able to do. This ability 17 talk of "second marriages" takes on new meaning and the murderer's motive is evident. It is probable that Hamlet did not know the players were going to present the dumb show, for his exclamations reveal his surprise and anger. The trap may be sprung too soon. But his fears are groundless, for Claudius has been disputing with Gertrude and his court advisor and has missed the brief action. The whole point is lost on him, as proved by his demand to know the argument of the play. If he had been attentive the dumb show would have told all. But now he watches the dramatic performance and upon the mention of poison, "cursed hebona in a vial", recognizes Hamlet's threat to his security. He flees the room amid the confusion of the court. Throughout this scene the observer is constantly aware of the effect of the play upon the principal characters. So skillfully does Shakespeare wield his pen that we can almost see the shadowy, fleeting passions flicker across the face of Claudius as he is in turn puzzled, angered, then frightened as the trap is sprung. Gertrude, too, is much affected by the presentation, bu t since she is innocent of complicity in King Hamlet's murder her husband's strange action at the poisoning scene are inexplicable to her. Mention of "second marriage" does sting her conscience, however, and she gains a new understanding of her son's bitterness t'o ward her. But it is Hamlet who dominates this scene. He is master of the situation and conveys his nervous (Please Turn to Page 26.) p1icated in the crime, his mother's hasty marriage with the suspected murderer, and the loss of the throne to Claudius. The occasion for testing Claudius' guilt presents itself when a group of strolling players come to E1sinor. Hamlet commands them to perform The Murder of Gonzago, a play which he knows closely parallels the incidents of his father's death. He inserts a few lines of his own to make sure that Claudius will not overlook the inference, and the trap is set. Will the mouse swallow the bait? The play presented at the court consists of two parts a dumb show and a brief dramatic skit. Dumb shows were commonly used during the Elizabethan period to foreshadow the contents of a play in some symbolical manner. But Sh . 1Tespearc employs the dumb show in Hamlet in a novel manner, for it does not foreshadow coming events, but actually presents in pantomime what takes place later in dramatic form. The importance of the dumb show is evident when one examines the dialogue which follows it,. For some seventy lines a king and queen discuss second marriages, then an entirely unexpected character comes in, and following six lines of dialogue, murders the king. ,What would have followed we never learn, for the jaws of the trap have closed on Claudius and he runs guiltily from the room on seeing his crime reenacted before his eyes. The dumb show has revealed to us the facts that are only hinted at in the dialogue. Therefore, .we know the murderer has committed his ghastly deed to gain the crown and win a queen. The 18- by Our church is troubled from time to time with a type of pest for which I have been unable to find any remedy offered among the many sure - cure advertisements. You know, the pew pests. Pew pests range in variety from the mischievous three-year-old who crawls up and down the bench rubbing his feet all over the back 6f your coat to the litle old lady who, God love her, is just a little deaf and doesn't realize that her recitation of the rosary is getting the best of your nerves. In between these are many others. For instance, the "night owl" who was up a bit late last night and has decided to catch up on sleep during the sermon. I don't begrudge him his little nap, but because of his snoring I only hear every other word Father is saying. There is also the fanatic who brings with her the biggest purse she owns plus t~o or -three glasses cases and an array of books and deposits them next to her on the pew. This, of course, explains why it's so crowded with only three in a seat. PEGGY WIMBERG Another pest who is bothered wi th a personal problem decides to figure it out while half sitting on the bench. The person behind her tries repeatedly to follow his missal and finally gives up in despair. At collection time there is always an absent-minded church goer who completely fails to remember to get his donation ready until the basket is right upon him. Then while his fellow-sitters strain helplessly, letting themselves be practically choked to death by the basket handle he calmly and smilingly deposits what sounds like his life savings in pennies. Particularly obnoxious is the fel low who every Sunday parades down the aisle after the Gospel and inevitably pushes his way into a pew which is already overcrowded. Actually the pest who really climaxes all pests is the one who just has to get to the communion rail first, even if it means mashing your -hat or snagging your nylons-or both. These are the Pew Pests. Can you suggest a remedy? THE RIVER by The river is never still. All year round it moves and cries out in defiance against the more stationary aspects of nature. Sluggish rays of spring sun grope their way toward the frozen surface. As the sun gains strength, long snake-like cracks begin to creep across the ice. Apparently the river is sleeping. But beneath the crusty surface the undercurrent increases its pace. Swifter and swifter it flows. The ominous "crack" of th ~ slowly extending fingers grows more frequent 2S the ice tears apart. Suddenly with a tremendous groan and shudder the m ass breaks up and rushes downstream. The river is a warrior respectin g no man's rights. It rages; it roars; it thunders. The river is quiet now-and . friendly. Its face is a mirror of sunlight which catches the outline of nearby trees and shrubs and reflects their quivering images in the crystal depths. The river is full of good will and gay spirits as it BARBARA SCHENKEL languishes in the sun. Nonchalantly it kisses the greenery on the banks, then guiltily slips back. It murmurs and hums to itself, lulled by the gentle "slap, slap" of its own waves against the shore. The air is crisp now and the water dances with vitality. Greedily it snaps up fallen leaves and flings them in miniature whirlpools. The river is impetuous and sometimes brash-like a small boy delighted wi th his own mischievous good spirits and the frosty autumn air. \'V'inter's icy breath coats the ri ver wi th a silver cover. Chill winds tear at the ice-flecked surface and frightened snowflakes scurry to hide in the frigid depths. The river is a haughty aristocrat. It struggles to protect itself from the icy coat, but its battle is in vain. It is sullen now, as it fights under the thickening ice. Dully it roars and rushes on into darkness. Listen and you can hear it. The river is never still. 20 An Admirer Looks At ELIZABETH IiOUDIiE by American novel readers looked forward to Pilgrim's Inn because they expected good things from the author of Green Dolphin Street. Even Hollywood had made something of a stir about that. But the author of these books is not a new novelist; she has been writing novels (and having them published) for fifteen years. Elizabeth Goudge was born in Somersetshire a t the turn of the century. The only child of an English churchman and a NormanFrench mother, Elizabeth inherited a taste and a talent for story-telling. Her schooling was rather haphazard but through those childhood years she gathered up stores of knowled ge and experience, especially during the happy summers spent with her grandparents on the C han n e I Islands. Childish attempts to write a magazine in collaboration with some neighborhood boys were followed by the publication of a volume of fairy tales which brought her a bare fifteen shillings. The young writer decided that her efforts were not appreciated and resolved to become an artist in the Pre-Raphaelite m anner. After two years at the Art School of Reading University she blithely announced to her friends and neighbors that she would teach design and applied art. And a3 21 JANE MONAGHAN she put it "The ladies of Ely believed me and actually had the generosity to pay me." When Doctor Goudge was named Regius Professor of Divinity at Oxford in 1923 the family moved there and Elizabeth assumed the duties which would normally have been her mother's - entertaining, parish calls, etc. She continued to teach, but the old urge to write reawakened. Days were already full, so the writing was done in the hours before breakfast. She chose to write plays, but not until she was thirty-two was any accepted. A play about the Bronte sisters was produced in London - a Sunday night performance. Encouraged, Miss Goudge gathered her plays into a book and sent it the round of the publishers. With one of the rejections was a note of advice, that she try writing a novel instead of plays. Tha t was the necessary spur the story-writing began anew and the novelist was made. Since 1934 Miss Goudge has published on an average a novel a year. The first, Island MaRie, was woven from her memories of the Channel Islands. Her best-selling A City of Bells, about the cathedral city of Wells where she was born, followed two years later. Through the years have come stories steeped in the legends I ear ned from her story-telling mother, mingled with the flesh and blood characters she has created. Her descriptions of the English countryside are delightful, her portrayal of children masterful. Occasional sentimental splashes, "lush'ly lyrical," are checked by her resolute realism. A realism that is not afraid to show the reader her own belief in the reality of happy living. Miss Goudge has never married. After her father's death in 1939, she and her mother moved to a cottage in South Devon. With fellow Britishers they had to suffer the deprivations of war, but through it all the stories have continued to appear. The last novels of Miss Goudge have whetted her reader's interest; they are waiting for more. HOPE Stars rise in the night To point out the way Onward, ever upward. Man comes from the wood To lead man astray Onward, ever backward. God loves from above To draw us each day Onward, ever forward. -Mary Jane Porter 22 by SUZANN REITH they were re-packing the brakes. I told them I had planned to use the bicycle. They promised they would have it ready for me in about an hour. I knew my brothers, and I also knew the spring sunshine would soon lure them outside. I decided that a walk would give me just as much exercise. Sixteen, twelve, and ten add up to thirty-eight, but taken singly they mean Jack, Harry, and Tom, my father's sons. Being the only girl, and the oldest, is quite a distinction. The boys call me "Queenie," but this name isn't what it implies. I'm outnumbered three to one. I always lose in the mad scramble when the telephone rings. Should the call happen to be for me the boys announce, "It's a girl, better luck next time," or "It's a boy, here's your chance." It's a wonder I have any friends. The boys have an uncanny way of involving me in all their escapades. The night of the Senior Prom they happened to hear me men tion I would like to wear a hoop. Jack with the help of Tom and Harry took down his radio aerial, and pulled it through the hem of my dress. My date was waiting when I discovered the wire, w I had to wear the dress as it was. I never knew when, during the course of the evening, the homemade hoop would fly up and hit me in the face. You've heard of the testing grounds for the atomic bomb. I'm the testing ground for all new jokes and card tricks. I can work relatively simple mathematics problems, but I can never guess why a chicken crosess the road. If by some strange chance I can see the joke, the boys know it's too old or too simple. My brothers' antics are not limited to certain days, months, or seasons. One sunny spring day I decided to go for a bicycle ride. I opened the door of the garage only to find my bicycle completely dismantled. Tom and Harry covered with grease beamed at me and said Only now that I'm away from home can I realize what a big part the three boys play in my life. I actually miss the escapades and and antics of Tom, Harry, and Jack, my father's sons. 23 by MARY PAT'RICIA SULl.IVAN Ellen ran into the bedroom, anxious to show how quickly she could get herself ready. Her father followed slowly, his shoulders drooping slightly. He squared them determinedly as he reached the door. "How is my little baby this morning? Get up, honey. We are going for a ride in the car . . . . " Sunday was a long day. Ellen wasn't enjoying herself; she wanted to go home and find mother there. Julie seemed to be having fun playing with cousin Billy on the floor. "I wish daddy would come," she whispered. "Aunt Nora and Uncle Tim seem to miss him too, because they keep looking at the door." Nora noticed the child's gaze and she tried to be gay. "Come over here, Ellen, and I will read you a nice story." Her voice began strongly "Once upon a time there was a little princess . . . " As she heard a car pull up, Nora's voice trailed away. Ellen leaped off her aunt's lap and ran to the door. Daddy came in. He nodded his head slowly at Nora. She made a funny noise and turned away. "Come into the bedroom a minute Ellen and Julie," he said. Ellen stood looking tenderly at her little sister, flushed in sleep on the bed. "I've got to take care of you today, Julie," she thought, "because mother went away to that place again. I wonder if she will bring back a baby this time like she did last summer. I wish they hadn't taken him away. Of course, she knew her little brother W:1S in heaven, but just the same she would hwe liked to have someone else to play with. Now. . Ellen could hear daddy coming in the front door. "Maybe he br~ught mother back," she cried excitedly, running into the living room. She stopped suddenly, looking at her father standing so still and sad in front of the mantel. When he saw Ellen, his face brightened. "Come, honey. We must get Julie up. I am going to take you to Aunt Nora's house today. Won't that be fun!" "Is mother going, too?" "No, dear. She will have to stay where she is a little while longer. I am going back to see her as soon as I take you and Julie. Come, let's hurry. Since you're such a big seven-year old girl, you can dress yourself, and I'll help sister." 21 Julie skipped in to the room ahead of them, but Ellen held tightly to her father's hand. Something must be wrong. Ellen could feel it. Daddy closed the door behind them. "Where's mommy?" asked Julie, beginning to miss her now. "Sit down girls. I ... I want to tell you something." "It is about mother?" "Yes, Ellen, it is . . . Your mother has gone away. She has gone to heaven." Ellen looked stunned. No mother to come home. How could that be? " \'Ve need mother. She couldn't go away, daddy." Her tears were falling fast now, and father's arm tightened around his children. 2 5. "Yes, dear. We need mother, but God needs her more. I'll bet He wants her to help Him take care of the little babies in heaven." "Like little brother," Julie said. She could not quite understand, but as long as mother was going to see baby brother it couldn't be so bad. "Here is your mother's rosary, Ellen. She told me she wanted you to have it. It will help you take care of us." Ellen dried her tears and sat up straight. "I will take good care of you and Julie. If I get stuck, . I'll ask mother. Will she hear me, daddy ?" "Yes, dear. In fact I think she h ea rs you now." by The steady maddening sound beat through clouds of sleep and the man writhed and tossed in agony. He covered his ears with his quivering hands but the awful sound penetrated and beat against his eardrums like tom-toms. He struggled to rise but could not. The inky blackness of the night surrounded him, enveloping him like a shroud. He could feel his forehead and palms grow clammy and his tongue felt hugh in his parched mouth. DEMO[R1U:Y Would this agony never cease, he wondered. He could not stand it much longer. He felt as though he were going through the tortures of Poe's "Pit." The beating increased and seemed to shake the very walls. With a crazed cry he leaped from his bed and groped his way through the darkness. Stumbling and groping along for what seemed eternities he finally reached the kitchen sink and wi th a groan of relief, turned off the dripping water faucet. (Cont:nued from Page 15) there are constant threats to the . continuation of the democratic ideal of our constitution. Whether the threat be communism or slavery or disregard for civil rights, we can be sure that we can overcome it by HAMLET AMY SNAPP strict adherence to the justice, the promotion of the common good, and the respect for man's natural rights which are such integral, basic notions of our fundamental law, the constitution. (Continued from Page 18) Even though we know he has delayed too long in killing his enemy and is going to his own doom as a result, we share his elation. For like all true heroes, he has the ability to make us feel as h e feels. He is the master wo~k of a master craftsman. impatience, brilliant restraint and fearful agony to even the most careless reader. When the play scene is climaxed by Claudius' guilty esc ape, Hamlet is overjoyed. His plan was successful; he has trapped his father's murderer and proved his mother innocent of any complicity! 26 Sellen Slore,! mounlain by "That you may become the brother of God and learn to know the Christ of the burnt men." THOMAS MER TON Huxley, Lawrence, and Hemingway. But when he began work on his master's degree, he decided to wri te his thesis on William Blake, a mystic, visionary poet. Thus does Thomas Merton express his philosophy of man's relation to his Creator in the closing sentence of his autobiography, The insecurity and yearning Merton had felt for so long became more and more intense and his increasing sense of futility forced him on the way to finding the surest way to happiness. He was baptized a Catholic after much hesitation and finally learned the importance of grace within the soul. Seven Storey Mountain. Thomas Merton was born in France in 1915 of an artist father and an idealistic American mother. He attended school in England, where his intense and sensitive nature was denied the religious training it craved. Merton began to revise his worldly standards, discovering a superna tural good he had never known. After further searching he found his way and at the age of 'twentysix he entered a Trappist monastery. He early showed signs of extreme individuality and egotism. At Cambridge he mingled with the intellectuals, collected jazz records, and drank a lot. After his transfer to Columbia University, he became interested in the communist movement active on the campus. Here he also drank to excess, covered New York listening to jazz bands till dawn, and fell in love a few times. The book is simply written. It is the biography of a young man much like so many modern young men. It makes no attempt to preach or expolit religion and contains simple truth, no smugness or air of self-satisfaction. It tells of one man's struggles to reach God. The student Merton was greatly influenced by the writings of Joyce, 27 Merton is a remarkably versatile writer. He realistically describes his "sprees," fellow psuedo-communists, jazz sessions. Then he becomes a poet-molding his words exquisitely into Divine praises. that the day of saints isn't overthat it is possible to live in our materialistic world and still lift our hearts and minds to God. The intimate glimpse into a man's soul fills one with love and hope. It is one of the truly inspirational books of our time. Seven Storey Mountain is a book that deeply impresses the mind and heart. I t is a reminder to moderns -Amy Snapp Oncc;n . a rare while, one discovers a small slim book, written for busy, workaday adults, but having an age old charm, a childlike simplicity. the basis of the story; the sometimes misplaced sense of values, the man-like reasoning, and the parallel of the wolf and man with his chances of grace give the story a memorable quality-that of seeing into the matter of compassion for the first time. Such a book is The Seven Miracles of Gubbio and the Eighth a Parable. Written by Raymond Leopold Bruckherger, a Dominican at the St. Maximin monastery, and translated by Gerold and Peter Lauck, it is the tale of a German wolf who held no compassion for man until confronted by St. Francis of Assisi who gives him the power to perform seven miracles-seven opportunitiesto endear himself to man. T he Seven Miracles of Gubbio appeared first in the Parisian magazine Le Chev al de Troie under the title "Le Loup de Gubbio" in September of 1947. It was published here by Whittlesey House last year. Taking no more than an hour's reading, it pays dividends that cannot be measured by time. The use to which he puts his power, wisely or unwisely, forms -Mary Jane Porter 28 by "Adventures are for the adventurous, life is monotonous only to the monotonous." This was Benjamin Disraeli's theory and this is the way by which he lived. For he was, in the true sense, adventurous. ANDRE MAUROIS one to succeed in politics, always keeping his goal - the prime ministership, in mind. Outwardly Disraeli was a pompous dandy. He was bold and conceited. But inwardly he was timid and nervous. He was high-strung, in turn admitting defeat and as quickly becoming over-confident. Andre Maurois, in Disraeli, eloquently portrays the life of the Jew who became prime minister of England. The success of the foreigner may be attributed to his inborn greatness, the knowledge of which was always with him, and the fact that he "loved the English more than they were capable of loving themselves." Disraeli's ascent to success was greatly aided by acquaintances with important people - acquaintances which he had a knack for cultivating. Among them were the Sheridans, Lord Bulwer, Lady Cork, and the head of the Conservative Party, Sir Robert Peel. Enemies there were too, such as every politICian must expect. Two of the strongest were Gladstone and O'Connell. Benjamin Disraeli was at first a disappointment to his parents. His mother was startled and perhaps a bit frightened at her precocious child whom she could not understand. Isaac Disraeli, a student and man of letters, always orderly and satisfied with his position as a respected Tory gentleman, was dismayed at his son's restlessness and at his insistence on becoming a great man. "You are too impatient, my son," he would say. Disraeli is a strange combination of text book and novel, a combination which makes it sometimes tedious, but, more often, interesting. Maurois' colorful phrases and deep understanding of his subject add to this interest. As textbook, however, it lacks a necessary objectivity and thereby loses some of its accuracy and value. Yet one adversely criticizes the book rather wistfully, for Maurois has evoked an odd sympathy for the renowned statesman and interesting personality he has painted. Impatient he was, this orator, author, lawyer, and statesman. At each failure of a book, a campaign, an idea, Disraeli's disappointment 'YlS ,great and he often came near despair. He rushed through the preliminaries which are necessary for 29 Betty Kennedy by ALICE CUR TIS DESMOND Mingled among historical acinvention of a new dish called "ice counts of the years from 1769 to cream." Many years later, an aged 1849, years covering most of the and impoverished widow, Dolly Madison's charm and sweetness was great events of the beginning of our Republic, are found details of still in evidence and she remained the Queen of the Whi te House and the life of Dolly Madison, Cinderella of the White House. Indeed, of all First Ladies. she was the dominating influence in Historical biographies have apWashington life during four adpeared repeatedly each year on the ministrations, first as hostess for list of new books, but one of the Thomas Jefferson and later as th;; most eagerly awaited in 1948 was wife of President James Madison. Her romantic legend begins in the this biography by Alice Curtis Desdays when Dolly was a shy Quakel' mond. A student of American hism"id who helped her mother in a tory and an extensive traveler, Mrs. boading house in Philadelphia, . Desmond has already become wellwhere she met many famous and known for her previous books which are also based on these two main glamorous heroes of the time. Eninterests. In Martha Washington: chanted by their exciting and colorOur First Lady she aroused among ful lives, she rebelled against the strict Quaker rules and married Americans a deeper interest and J ames Madison, a man much older pride in the history and traditions of than herself, but a man facing a our country. In the inspiring story brilliant future. By virtue of her of Dolly Madison she has again enjoyed bringing to life in a fictionalradiant personality, she carried him much farther than he would have ized biography another of the fasgone alone - to the Presidency of cinating women of the early days the United States - and thus lifted of our republic. the veil on her own future - a brilliant social career in the White Her authentic characterization House. During these gay years, presented in a simple, straightforwarmhearted, laughter-loving Dolly ward manner has produced a rich Madison was hostess at many of and fascinating tale, an unusual and the most lavish parties America has understanding biography that is ever witnessed and went down in very real and appealing. history, if for nothing else, for her -Mary W' asset 30 MARIAN COLLEGE GYMNASIUM 3] PATRONS Mr. and Mrs. Edward Bath Miss Nancy Brosnan Mr. and Mrs. M. J. Eckrich Mr. and Mrs. Cornelius Haugh Miss Wanda Lee Jacobs Dr. and Mrs. Bernard Matthews Mr. and Mrs. David E. Messer Mr. and Mrs. E. F. Monaghan Mr. and Mrs. John Monagh'lll Mr. and Mrs. Joseph Murello Dr. and Mrs. Thomas B. Noble Mrs. Gertrude M. Page Mr. and Mrs. Joseph Schenkel Mr. and Mrs. James P. Stieff Mr. and Mrs. Patrick D. Sullivan Dr. and Mrs. Fred A. Thomas Mrs. J. E. Wells Mr. and Mrs. Julius Zerr BUSINESS PATRONS CAPITOL GLASS CO . . 432 South Missouri ENGINEERING METAL PRODUCTS 401 S. Harding JOHN GRANDE & SONS 2401 W. Washington St. HOOSIER BOOK & SUPPLY CO. 1939 N. Meridian KRIEG BROTHERS 249 N. Pennsylvania SOUTHEASTERN SUPPLY CO. Bunding Materials Prospect & Southeast Streets \VEGE MARBLE & TILE CO. 927 Architects & Builders Building 32  ...

... c5'rCarian College Indianapolis, Indiana THE FIORETTI AN ANTHOLOGY OF MARIAN COLLEGE PROSE AND VERSE VOLUME FOUR 11 Marian College Indianapolis, Indiana 1946-1947 That Thou wOllldst vouchsafe to grant peace and unity to all Christian peoples, we beseech Thee hear u.s. -LITANY OF THE SAINTS G'ONTENTS Page Frontispiece 5 Editorials 4 At Fourt~en . ... .. ... . ... ......... Joan Baumer '48 . . . . . . . . . . . . . 8 Moon Glow . ..... , .. . . .. . .... . .. . Mary Jane Porter '49. 9 . . . . . . . Jeanne Kessling '49 . The Prodigious Child . . . 10 Loretta SPaltlding , 50 . If She Had 01zl)1 Believed. . 13 . Lois T enbie g '48 . . . . . . . . . Silver Willows by the Field . . . . Doris Aiken '47. . . Education in UNESCO . . 14 .15 Science in Internationalism . Lorraine Sinz ' 50 . . 17 Youth Movem.ents. Mary Jane Porter '49 . . 19 To His Se1'vant . . 21 ... . .. . .. . . . Barbara Hipp '50. . 21 . .. Lois T m bieg '48 . 'the Peonies .. . ....... . . . . 22 Jean Mortlock ' 50 . Cake Shop Romance . .. . . . . . . Carpe Diem, . . Barbara Hipp , 50 . . 24 Black Sorrow . Lois Mendenhall' 50 . T /Je Best Things in Life Are Free. Catherine Gormley' 50 . .. ..... 25 . Mary Catherine Cangany '50 . ... 26 Our Lady of Fatima . Louis De Montfort . Mary Jo Doherty '48 . Berta Humm el ..... . . .. . .. . .. 28 . . Sarah Page '49 . . . . . . . . . Thom({s Alva Edison . Vigil Lights. . 25 . 30 . .... Joan Baumer '49 . ...... ... .. 32 . . . . . .. . .. . . . .. ... . Loretta SPaulding '50. . .... 33 Price of Sin .. . ... .. ... . ..... .... Lois Mendenhall '50 . ....... . . . 34 Naval Initiation . . . ... . . . . . . . Ruin . .. Catherine GOfmle)! '50 . 35 ......... . . . .. ... .. . . . .. . . Marjory GuIde '48. . 36 Stone's Th1'ow . ... . .. . . ... ... . .. . . Mary Frances Punch '50 . . 37 Books "Stricken Land" . rev iewed by . ... . . . .. Gladys Gonzalez '48. "\Voman of the Pharisees" . "Color Blind" .. A Night P1'ayer to the Virgin . ... Lois T enbieg '48 . . .. Mary P. McCarth y '49. . .. Lois Tenbieg '48 1 . 39 . . . 40 42 .45 The .Staff Editor-~l1:-:Chief LOIS TENBIEG Associate Editor JOAN BAUMER Assistan,t Editors DIANA MAGNUS SHIELA :McANDREWS PATRICIA PARKER MARY JANE PORTER Art SARAH PAGE LOIS MENDENHALL BUSINESS General MARY Jo FALVEY MARY HAUGH BARBARA I-lIpp Circulation GLADYS GONZALEZ DOLORES MAYER JEAN MORTLOCK Frontispiece World Brotherhood For centuries the handclasp has been a symbol to man of friendship. In this instance, the handclasp of St. Francis is shown. After the holy saint had given his robe to a fatt ered beggar, he showed hin'! this sign of friendship. From tbe left comes the foot of t.be Blessed Virgin Mary, C1'ushing the seJ'pent Satan who is the sower of the seeds of race hatred and creed dissension. Above, the M01'11ing Star gliste11S in the sky as a herald of the friendshiP among all men which must come to the war weary world. On the right shines the sun J'epresenting amity, harmony, and good-will among all men and aiding world brotherhood by giving light fo the struggle of a man. Th e man, who is bound by the chains of sub jugation placed upon him by society, signifies all minority races and creeds. In the world of perfect brothel' hood he shall rise, cast off his bonds, ami take his rightful place in world societJ'. In tbe background revolves the world which is exploding, not exploding in an atomic war, but in a burst of enlightened C/Jristia1'lity. Ever signs of happiness, the cross and t/:;e dove of peace sJlmbolize the new era o f brotherhood coming to the world. Sarah Page 4 EDIT 0 RIAL S Over seven hundred years ago a man saw the world for what it was, a world in conflict with God; a world which had sinned so often that it was thrown out of balance. Logically, he saw as the only possible means of restoration of the balance penance for men. He saw that man could not be happy until he had made reparation and found peace. St. Francis' penance was to be by means of self-sacrifice for the benefit of fellow men; in other words, by brotherhood. The teachings of St. Francis foster in a special way a fraternal spirit. The Little Poor Man of Assisi would have men see one another as brothers, God as their common Father. Under the spiritual direction of Francis, the poor discover that all of the rich are not mercenary tyrants and the rich find beauty of soul and love of God among the poorest conditions. The spirit of St. Francis engenders kindly understanding between rich and poor. . What an ideal state of civilization could evolve from this kind of understanding and cooperation. These principles applied to individual relations produce harmony. Applying them to nations and races should logically bring about harmony of living on a wholesale scale. The specific requirements of St. Francis' rule are not practical for all of us, but the notable precept of universal brotherhood is applicable everywhere. The term peace is represented as the goal towards which the world should strive; the world problem is that of finding a world peace or establishing brotherhood among nations. It is a huge task to make brothers of whole nations; it is a relatively simple one to make a brother of the fellow who lives next door to you. Suppose his skin pigmentation is different, suppose his social station is not the same, or that he lives on the other side of a political border line. He still is just the fellow who lives next door. Concentrating on the act of becoming his brother, the complicated problem of the wide world of men to become brothers with looms less frighteningly on the horizon. In fact the bigger problem is easily forgotten and absorbed into the fascinating process of making friends with the man next door. After him there is the man in the next block, and he knows a fellow on the next street you might like to meet. An individual's connection with world peace is relative to his connection with individuals, his ability to regard individuals as brothers. St. Francis has the best way to world peace offered in any world conference. He bases his rule on the tenets of the Gospel, on the plan of God. This is the key to the success of his order. Where is God at our peace .conferences? Are we, like foolish hou s;;i~~', forgetting the leaven in our bread? -Lors TENBIEG 50rming Opiniond The man on the radio blares, "9 out of 10 housewives use-," or "reliable sources say-." And allowance a bit and worry about a date for Friday night. without much It is especially appalling for college questioning on our part we accept such students to fall .into the habit of slipshod thinking. With specific training sta tements. It seems reasonable that nine out of ten housewives do use Sudsy Soap, for we've used it and found it to be a good product. in methods of correct thinking there is no excuse for evading issues. No handed down opinion can equal the correct one We accept statements regarding a arrived at by ?ur own conscious effort. matter of minor importance and then If we mentally challenged the common generalizations and found out the just as casually accept statements concerning a matter of major importance. It's a habit many of us have fallen into. In smaller things it isn't too dangerous, truth, we would have a much clearer picture of the world's situation. Our age is highly mechanized. Pre-fabri- but after a while, when the habit has cated had a chance to grow, someone tells us , even "seeing eyes" to open doors, have "The people in Europe aren' t starvin g. made many former tasks child's play. But no mechanized appliance can re- My brother-in-Iaw's cousin was over there. He says they have plenty of houses, electric dish-washers, food." And we believe it. Then we hear place the operation of the human mind. And no one else's preconceived opinion on all sides, "Don't trust Jews," or "Everyone says educating the Negro is can ever take the place of our own conclusions based on fact and resea rch. a wa~te of time," and we believe that, too. Why? \\'1hy? In the first place, because it's shru g off situations by bringin g out our little list of " I've heard's" and "they say 's." If I've heard it or they say it, then it's true the U.N. h asn't much chance of surviving and money spe nt on Europe's starving is money wasted. It eliminates my need of doing anything about the matter. ea ~y to In the second place, I don't ha ve to cpend any time thinkin g about the world's problems. With such readyn:ade opin:ons, gotten of course from "reliable sources," I have more time in which to find a way to stretch my If you pride yourself on being wellinforme d these suggestions m ay help. Don't accept "9 out of 10" and "reliable sources say" information. Find out how nearly true a statement is. In important matters learn to add up dependable information to form your own opinion . And put all such knowled ge to use. One person helpin g his neighbor is worth infinitely more than the announcement of a radio commentator that, "a recent poll shows that nine out of ten persons believe in the Colden Rule." Don't thi11k according to wrong opinions; .act according to right ones. -JO AN BAUMER 6 If we seek to make this "one world," her example faithfully in this respect? if we really want to be one family, we Have we looked upon all men as she must look for one who will bind us has, as children of God? Perhaps we have never realized that we have a duty together-every family must have a mother and mother love. But we need not look far; Christ gave us a Mother, and she has never stinted in giving her love. Love has no other test so true as service. Housewives will sing as they per- to combat racial prejudice. What Mary does out of love we are bound to do out of a Christian sense of duty and justice. Mary in heaven, having won her eternal reward has no obligation to be our special helper, yet we find her always at our call. And not to anyone indi- form dreary tasks and men gladly spend their days at hard work knowing that the results will mean happiness for a loved one. In view of service given we vidual representative of one race or class or color but to all men. can see how greatly Mary loves mankind. It is easy for her to love the In her miraculous visits here on earth Mary has tried to give us a message. A message of love, a special plea for whole of mankind because she has first loved God. All men are the sons and good will toward all. Surely as the Mother of Mankind she is interested in dau ghters of God. Her Son had loved each one of us. As her children we them unto death and had then entrusted them all to her. should be interested in each other, too. In the eyes of God, as each of us knows, one soul is essentially as good as the Though Mary is in heaven , her work through the ages has been given uninterruptedly for her earthly children. other. Our daily prayer should be to ask Mary, as Divine Mother of us all, to implant in us love of each other. May From her shining example we can find evidences of love for all mankind. Never has she shown prejudices of any we pray that in spite of "pleasing or repellent exteriors, docile or unquiet SOft. In appearances to all nations and colors, at Lourdes, at Guadalupe, at minds, gentle or ira sci ble tempers, we may never for get that all souls, even Fatima she has shown her immense love for mankind. the coarsest, are God's beloved children" and Mary's. Can even we who love her with a special love say that we have followed -JOAN BAUMER 7 Al :Joul'feen Lif e can be jJroblel1ttatic. by JOAN BAUM E R are no t pretty. A nd Janie's gloom was brou ght on by such knowledge. The fact seemed t o sh out at her from everyw h ere. Her dresser mirror jeered at h er in the morning, "You aren't pretty," and the hall mirror gloated ove r it. Her lovely room m ad e her feel unwanted, and her dresses h anging in the closet refused to look right on her. Nothing could be worse than this awful trouble. Its enormity was fri ght ening. Mother was so sweet abo ut it all. " You'll grow out of it, J ane . You may be all arms and legs now, but that won't be for always. You don't look fr eakish, dear. Just because you're growing fast-." But mother, Janie knew, didn' t understand. What if she always stayed tall and thin and one da y go t to be like Miss Drue? J anie shudd er ed. W h at could be wo r se than bein g su ch an old and spinsterish sort of person? With a long nose and a tongue feared by all, she was indeed a terrifying person. It was too awful! J anie plopped down on her bed . Critica lly she examined h er face in the hand-mirror. It was agonizing, she decid ed . W h y on ea rth didn't mother let her pluck h er eyebrows? Sh e could make them arch. That would at least give h er a look of m ys tery. "If I can't Janie sighed. It was a lon g sigh , ca rrying all h er pent-up feelin gs. "It's n o me ," sh e t old h erself, "You have to be pretty or nothing counts." At fourteen it is dire catastrophe to know you s really happy? She doubted it. It was simply"Janie, hey Janie," someone shouted. It was Buzz, next-door neighbor, waiting down in the yard for her to come play tennis. "Wait till I ge t my racquet," she called out the window. Minutes later the two of them, racing each other to the corner, were laughing and shouting. An elderly man, whom they passed by, shook his head. "Wonderful to be so young. A nice little girl. Ought to be a pretty one someday. Not a care in the world." He sighed. "Yes, the young are always so happy." be beautiful I could be mysterious." She could see herself, clad in exotic clothes. People stared after her, murmuring, "No one knows who she is or what she does. She's so mysterious." Janie shivered in anticipation. Why, there must be all sorts of mysterious jobs at which one could work. And if you looked the part-but it was of no use. Her eyebrows remained unplucked and her face had a decidedly honest look. Back to despair. It really wasn't fair in the least. To be ordinary looking was horrid. Her hair just hair-color, eyes brown, complexion fair. No dimples or long eyelashes or anything III the least extraordinary. She sighed again . Would she ever be able to be MOON GLOW I was alone as the moon Floated down on silent beam To enter my window. "Come with me," he teased And the monotony of life Caused me answer, "Yes." Gentle winds caressed my cheeks And stars reached out to warm my lifeless heart. I was wanted. In the after-glow I sit and watch and wonder As the moon, on silvery rays, ascends To leave me desolate. -MARY JANE PORTER 9 by JEANNE KESSLING The f antas)I of a C01n poun~d rOHtanCe May I tell you a love story? It has not been published as a best seller, nor produced as a Broadway hit or a Hollywood box-office success, but then, it was not written for these ends. The characters? They are two lovers from a world of scientific fantasy-yet a world not unknown to those of us who are radical in our search for the h idden facts governing our existence. The story of Kay Sienno and N. H. Esofor, known to their friends as KeNO and (NH,JJ2S04' a I m 0 s t didn't have a beginning, for every time that it seemed they might become acquainted, something prevented their meeting. One . lazy Sunday afternoon, however, when N. H. Esofor had been rotating indifferently around his orbit, h e noticed a striking young compound. He decided that she had the customary lineaments of other female compounds, but that she also had something which gave her a distinction all her own. It was at this point in his observation that N. H. resolved to find out for h imself. There isn't the slightest doubt that N. H. was a handsom e compound. Neither let it to be supposed that he was m odest and unaware of this advantage; but still, he possessed a personality devoid of any suggestion of conceit. He usually knew what he wanted and he possessed an unmistakable ability to talk his way in and out of tedious situations. It was this 10 latter quality which enabled him to confront Miss Sienno with just the right approach. When N. H. floated nonchalantly over to Kay, he found her quite 'indifferent to his presence, for Kay regarded her attractive beauty as something inherent and had become used to the second glances and attentions of previous inept suitors. "I wouldn't go too close to the edge of that orbit if I were you." Startled, Kay turned and glanced, at first coldly, then with amusement, at this strange young compound who w as so bold, yet friendly. N. H ., too, found himself ~crutinizing Kay. She was even more appealing at close view. "My name is N. H. Esofor. I just happened to notice you standing over here, and was wondering what makes you so different from others." Kay continued to stare, also n oticing a dissimilarity between them. Just when N. H. thought that she must be incapable of speech, she said, "Yes, I can see a difference in us, though I don't know what it is." And they were off to an analytical discu ssion about their ancestry. N . H.'s inorganic forebears were characterized by a d evil-may-care attitude. They, above all, were not concerned with problems of individual structures and consequently did nothing to build up or strengthen themselves. N. H. didn't like it, but since it was the prevailin g habit of his compounds, he could hardly stand alone in his defiance. Kay's narration was contrary to that of N. H. Her organic ancestors had always been meticulous about structure; in fact, their entire existence was vitally concerned with the manner in which atoms were linked together. Kay mentioned that the position of the elements around the carbon atom could make or break a compound and, upon hearing the word "carbon," N. H. snapped his fingers, muttered, "That's it," took hold of Kay, and started to bounce around in a com pound's interpretation of an Indian War dance. "Mr. Esofor, please, will you tell me what's happened to you?" "Don't you understand, Miss, Miss -why, I don't even know your name." "Sienno, Kay Sienno," Kay hastily replied. "Don't you realize, Miss Sienno, that carbon is the discriminating element between us? Your compounds are made up of carbon, while ours completely lack this element." During this excited outburst, N. H.'s face had taken on a shinin g expression of triumph and expectancy. After his last words, however, the glow faded and a look of disappointment took its place. . Kay, still puzzled from N . H.'s previous outburst about carbon, an element which she thou ght every compound contained, found herself utterly nonplussed. N. H. lost little time in explaining to her that he had just rea lized the unfavorable a ttitude his fami ly had towards hers. Here she was, from a strong-willed, structureconscious group and his was almost the direct opposite. Kay didn't see why that should cause him w much concern' after all hadn't she just met him?' Suddenl; they both became aware of the time and, after an agreeme!;t to meet again the next day, N. H. returned to his own sphere. A not too unexpected situation resulted from the more and more frequent meetings between Kay and N. H., for love cannot be denied two people whose diversified, yet common interests, contrasting, yet harmonious personalities are brought toge ther. N. H. had met and favorably impressed Kay's parents, but his own parents were firm in their decision that their son should not marry info the organic family. This decision failed to coincid e with N. H.'s recently made resolutions, so, upon agreement with Kay's parents, they were united on an organic orbit with only organic compounds in attendance. T hus, the first union between an organic and an inorganic compound brought a happiness only realized by Kay and N. H. Esofor. After they returned from an indescribable honevmoon bits of gossip reached their ea;s. 11 The ProdigioDs Child the sun's relentless rays, but it was Kay again who was able to encourage him, little by little, to enjoy the lazy life that the beach offered. On a particularly sultry d ay, while Kay and N. H. sought relief in the ocean's liberating coolness, they happened to glance at little Sienno lying on the sand. Simultaneously they rushed to him, for he was writhing, twisting, moaning, in a cruel, pitiful agony. Kay gathered him to her, only to find that he was literally a ball of fire . N. H. started to leave in search of a doctor, but Kay stopped him. "I have just realized what is happening to our son, N. H. The heat is bringing about a vital change which will either make him a stronger structure or will break him down completely. Please, N. H., don't leave me. All we can do now is to pray that the crisis comes soon and is in our favor." The minutes which followed found the organic and the inorganic compounds fixedly watching a strange phenomenon. Were the Esofors justified after all in their disapproval of a union which had all the indications of disaster, of failure? Little Sienno's movements became calmer, his childish moans less audible, until it seemed they would subside altogether, when, with a spasmotic jerk, he sat up, his entire structure rigid. N. H., afraid to touch him, looked helplessly at Kay who suddenly burst into tears. The distraught father, now convinced that the worst had happened, tried to comfort Kay, but all at once, she started to laugh. "Don't you understand, N. H., our child is perfectly well now. The heat has transformed him into an organic compound. He is the first organic sub stance formed in this way. Oh, N. H., I think I'm going to faint." What kind of children would result? Certainly, they could not be normal. Would such effects cause a separation between Kay and N. H.? . Yes, they were quite aware of these and similar uncharitable remarks, but they were also completely aware of each other, of the unconqu erable joy in each other's presence, only surpassed by the knowledge tha t this joy was soon to be increased. . The child of Kay and N. H. was not abnormal, was not a freak; but neither was it a healthy manifestation of childhood. Much to his father's di~ tress, little Sienno (registered as NH,l CN 0) possessed most of the dcminant defects in character and structure of the inorganic compounds. Kay refused to believe that their son would grow up to be unconcerned about structure and character, and her optimism was a great comfort to N. H. Their love for each other and for little Sienno grew stronger as the child grew more ionizable. In their search for a cure for his weakness, they were advised to take him to the South where the heat might help him. N. H. was somewhat hesitant about taking this advice, for he doubted that heat could produce the desired effect. Kay, whose kindred had many times before been saved by the everfaithful heat, won his confidence and within the next week the three were enjoying the sunny southern climate. Sienno at first refused to lie under (Pl ease t1lrn to "bage 44) 12 by LORETTA SPAULDING A ballaril1a grips with life There was nothing but bleak, stark, coldness which began at her toes and crept upward to blot all the warmth of hope from h er body. She knew it well, this feeling, for it had become her only feeling of late. It came from want-the penetrating want of food, the desolating want of shelter, the longing want of love. All this, within! There was nothing but the harsh, damp, coldness which began in the heavens and sank to the very depths of the earth to blot all the warmth from the air. All this, without! She wore but a light shabby coat which scarcely covered her thin frame. She had only a thin silken scarf on her head, a remnant of finer days. For shoes she wore a pair of ballet slippers. They once had been white, white satin, with lovely bows of baby blue. Oh, but they had been beautiful, all shiny and soft. She remembered the day she had boug ht them. They were the finest in the little shop and _the owner didn't want to sell them to her. She had lau ghed gaily, flashing the crisp bills in his face. They were her last bills but she had been so sure that others would come soon that she had told him to keep the change for good luck. She was so happy then! Oh, so very happy! She was sure that even Mama would have been proud of such a purchase. Mama, with her dancing eyes and dancing feet, would have been proud of the fine gesture too, for Mama had always said -"Do good and good will come to 13 you." If Mama were here now there would be no want, for Mama was everything. But Mama wasn't here. This thought dashed away the warmth of memory and left but cold loneliness again. It, too, began at the feet and rose upward until it gripped the heart. A month ago, perhaps even a week ago, this memory of Mama would have brought tears-warm tears of emotion-but now amid this despair there was no warmth, there was no emotion left. She shifted her postion on the hard, wet bench and the movement brought the dull pain of coldness inside her coat to settle there. Aye, what a bitter night, and it was yet early. Was there no pity anywhere? Yet, she didn't want pity. Many had pitied of late and she had seen. Even Marzoka had pitied in his own brutal way. His pity would have stung; she knew this and had left. Left the last chance, the only chance that would ever come to her now. He had offered her a menial position in the last line. She-who should have been first. Mama had always said-"Never take last when you can be firstl" Had not Mama taught her from her first step? Had not Mama been great-greater than any? Oh, yes, even at her own age. For she herself was getting old---old for a ballarina. Being alone in the world made one old. The thought of age made her look at her uncovered hands. They were blue (PI eas e tn:'11 to page 44) slLVIR WILLOWS BY THE FIELD The willows by the field are t : tIl. Among their silver leaves Greying shadows deep'ning blush, Greying into darkest tone. Witching fingers suppliant Are reaching, reaching ever up To m ake graceful tracery, Patterns of living shadows On the low-lying, blue-lipped clouds. Each silver leaf is tipped with light A gleam of gold, a streak of brown in deeper hue. The unseen sun is playing, Playing with the majesty Of silver willows by the fidd. -Lors 14 TENBIEG Education in UNESl:O by DORIS AIKEN An over-all undertaking in which edu- Education is in a key position today. It has assumed a role of importance in the formation of policies leading to reestablishment of world peace and security. cation must play a major part IS a worldwide attack on illiteracy, with special attention to backward areas which are deprived of a means of modern living. International leaders are keenly aware of the fact that peaceful and harmo- It must be realized that UNESCO is nious cooperation of all nations will be possible only in the measure that igno- not empowered to set up an international system of education. It can merely suggest plans or improvements for existing educational policies of the nations. The systems vary from the dual system of the United States to the one school plan more common 111 Europe. France has taken the lead in reorganizations of the educational system with emphasis on a wider selection of subject matter and a careful study of individual differences of the pupils. rance, prejudice, and erroneous thinking are eliminated from the minds of all peoples. The directors of world affairs expectantly follow the program of the United Nations Educational, Scientific, and Cultural Organiza tion, which aims "to contribute to peace and security" by a planned program whereby the youth and adults of all nations can acquire a proper understanding and appreciation of the peoples of the world. The goa l of international understanding is to be pursued in a special way in the teaching of the socia l sciences in the primary and secondary levels. Special stress is to be directed to the underlying attitudes and solid understanding that are necessary to the proper functioning of a socia l organization. Educators have realized, as well as politica l leaders, the importance of a project such as this. J. W. Studebaker, Commissioner of Education in the United States, summed up the role of education when he said that "the ~c hoo l s and colleges must provide the firm basis for int~rnatio nal cooperation by an increa~ed empha sis upon educat ion for world u n d e r s tan din g . " UNESCO has chosen as specia l projects in the field of education a cla ssroom prog ram designed to develop international understanding at all school and college levels; a comprehensive revision of textbooks to improve teaching and teaching materials; and a study of physically and emotionally handicapped children in the war-devast at ed areas. In the area of college work student exchange serves as a medium of furthering the UNESCO aim. Although the plan is not new in the United Sta tes, the present program urges an expansion, sending more students abroad, receiving more in to the colleges and universities at home. C losely allied with any educational system is tex tbook revision. But revision 15 Education in UNESl:U peaceful is a slow and difficult process. Unbiased cooperation, and equitable opinions and a complete breakdown of - national prejudices are necessary for a world order and then put these into practice in the home, community, and wund world revision. Under such a pro- nation. Granted that it is impossible to gram English authors might well write United States history textbooks. That lieve it, the need of adult education give advice if you yourself fail to b e- task lies ahead. Along with the textbook reVJSlon comes the desire for the improvement lar or adult education also serves as becomes apparent. Furthermore, popu- of teaching. Teachers have_ the grave responsibility of giving their pupils not adult problems and provides guidance for leisure and recreational activities. only a body of knowledge, but more important, the ideals and principles for Adult education will be promoted by the u se of the press, the radio, and their future living. The school is expected to develop character ~raining, most concrete progress has been made ideals of citizenship, and an atL .. hment in the field of radio. An immedia te plan adequate preparation for the meeting of the motion picture. Of these three, the to democratic institutions. To accomp- considered by UNESCO at its first lish this teachers must themselves be spiritually strong, sincere in upholding meeting in Paris, 1946, is the establish- democratic principles, and keenly alert to world problems. Teacher cooperation is the underlying appeal in the project scientific, and cultural topics available to any national network under the title of "World University of the Air." now under way for a world seminar The comprehensive drive for eliminating illiteracy involves a wide program ment of a series of talks on educational, during the summer of 1947. Delegates fro m c 0 u n t r i e s members of the of activities which include not only formal education but problems of UNESCO will meet to discuss their problems and experiences in the job of health, economlC status, citizenship, and the like. The fact that illiteracy educating for peace. Educational reconstruction may produce an alert and active youth, imbued cuts off a large segment of the world population from the rest creates in it- and creed and desirous of furthering with tolerance in matters of race, color, self an obstacle to peace and security which UNESCO has' resolved to over- their understanding of the problems of other na tions. Nevertheless, the existence of youth is not confined to a classroom where attitudes and principles may be carefully fostered; it also extends to a society which is directed by adults. If adult leaders are to inspire youth, then adults must acquire a firm conviction of the principles of democracy, come. An international program of such dimensions must needs move slowly. The beginnings have been made; with proper support and cooperation there is no rea son why it should not succeed. What it asks for is the same as that which Comenius desired three centuries ago, "a universal rededication of mind s." 16 There is a future for Sci~nc~ in Int~rnatiDnalism by LORRAINE SINZ the whole wo rld, science be strengthened and be unhampered . The supreme issue before all people of the world today is the elimination of war. The emergence of the atomic bomb is a final and conclusive proof of the fact that there must be no more universal conflicts such as the t wo past World Wars which wreaked irreparable and almost universal d e vas t a t ion. Science has come forward to turn its great resources into the paths of peace. It is imperative that international collaboration in science be restored at once to set the pace for international understandif\g in other fields. It is necessa ry that both h ere and abroad the methods and accomplishments of science be made known to the public, w that the public may better understand how science can contribute to the welfare rather than to the destruct :on of mankind. Before Science can make any important contributions to international h armony it must be given freedom. By freedom in science is m eant first of all, ready exchange of ideas and open discussions. It means freedom from gov ernmental control and restrictions; freedom from r ed tape and pressure; freedom from fear, and finally, freedom from want. The measures taken during the war by our military agencies in restricting the free intercourse among scientists on related or identical projects have gone so far th at one can foresee as a result of its continuance the total irresponsibility of individual fc ientific workers, and ultimately the death of the scientific spirit. Both of these are disastrous to world unit y and entail g rave and immediate peril for the public. Hence, the greatest service tha t scientists can render now is to see that, first in this country, and then In Once the restraints are lifted fr om sc ience , ~ci entists universally will be in a position to au gment understanding and harmony among nations. As an integral organ of the United Nations Educationa l, Scientific, and Cultura l Organization science promises to be a potent means of promoting internationalism . In view of the urgency of restoring and extending the means through which scientific workers m ay attain their new goal-that of contributing to peace and security- a proposal has been presented whereby collaboration might be possible and profitab le between UNESCO and the International Council of Scientific Unions. Such a cooperation would undoubtedly ~ tren g then the programs of both bodies In the area of their common concern. 17 Science in Internationalism An agenda providing m ass communications is being drawn up by the International collaboration in scientific matters could be a major factor in UNESCO to advance the aims of this or ganiza tion. Indirectly science will be responsible for such a development. In - furthering congeniality. Such a merging of knowled ge and efforts could be effected through various communicative media. Suggested methods include ternation al communications by means exchange fello wships, establishment of of the radio, press, cinema, and multi- UNESCO-controlled laboratories and experimental stations throughout the world, and improvement or rehabilitation of devastated laboratories and stations. Other plans are being proposed, but the majority are still in the embryonic sta ge. transla tions of significant ?ooks serve to inform the people of the world with justice and truth about each other. Such a system would insure the g rea test possible freedom to the instruments of international information from censor ship and other obstacles to the free Exchange fellowships have a definite appeal to the public. Such a project would enable students and teachers alike to broaden their education by reIa tions with forei gners, while furthering the constructive work of cementing foreign relations by interchange of ideas and understanding of customs. movement of ideas by word and image amon g the peoples of the world. The Natural Science Division of UNESCO is now initiating two notable projects which will lay the g roundwork for forthcoming human welfare programs. The first entails a comprehensive study of life and natural resources in the Amazon Basin. This joint effort of scientists of the world under the nationa l Scientific Commission will be a worthwhile contribution towards the development of similar areas around the g lobe. The second research program provides for the establishment of a group of nutritional science and food technology teams to study nutritional problems in India, China, and Africa. An exchange of scientists would in future years provide grea t dividends by contributing to universal hum a n knowledge. Although extensive knowledge is held by some to be responsible for a great many evils in this atomic era, it is an unquestionable fact that ignorance has laid the g roundwork for the abuse of nature's beneficially-intended treasures. Construction and rehabilitation are pleasant sounds to the ears of the educated masses of ravaged lands. The learned of every country are the influence-wielders. To aid these people in raising or maintaining their educational or cultural standards by lending material aid would be a step toward the goa l. Science, as a part of UNESCO, could supplement the rehabilitation efforts of unfortunate nations by re building their razed pillars of learning and by erecting bigger and better research foundations. All of these plans should lead to the increment of world security and understanding. UNESCO has gained the recognition of the majority of nations as a future savior of civilization. Archibald MacLeisch has aptly compared it to a kite lying on the g round which needs a strong wind to help it rise. The scientists are ready to take the role and as strong winds from all the corners of the world to buoy up this worthy organiza tion in its efforts for lasting peace. 18 Idealis1n and zest for actio-it create YOUTH MOVEMENTS by Flaming torches, lusty singing, and an indomitable spirit prefaced the parade of Young Europe as they marched through the principal streets of the continent d u ring the middle of the nineteenth century. Russian youth were revolting against the sentimentality and romanticism of their elders. The young men of Germany banded in pursuit of idealistic mysticism . Italy's campaign for freedom saw the youths joining the seawned leaders in the fig h t for a united Italy. MARY JANE PORTER matters not. In reality, t h e latter may and probably does depend upon the former. The fact remains t h at youth movements are symbolic of a dissatisfaction with eXlstlllg conditions. Generally, young people are either unsure of their present sta t us or of t heir possible future ~tatus. Often they merely refuse to reconcile to their own idealism conditions set forth by t he older generation. This unrest is the primary reason that youth movements are at their zenith immediately following a war or some other radical economic disruption. Such demonstrations are characteristic of youth and youth movements. From the beginnings of political controversy yout h movements have played their part in molding the youth and shaping the destiny of their country. To be true youth movements spontaneity is essential, as is the matter of action inspired by youth rather than by older lea ders. In the second place is the recogni t :on by yout h of the need of a change, whether it be material or spiritual, national or world-wide. This recognition is evidence of their inherent idealism and their sensitiveness to the shortcomings of the same idealism. Their awareness of the need of change leads to the prospect of trying their power in a concrete way. The significance of youth m ovemen t s is three-fold. Youth h as become in the last century and a half more and more a topic for disc ussion and specula tion. Whether it is because of the increasing assertivene~s of youth or the realization by adults that youth does have some worthwhile views on prevalent affairs In government and economics class in Christian doctrine, sociology, and psychology classes students learn the theoretical methods of alleviating political and social crises. It is not surprisin g, then, that when an upheaval occurs 1\1 political, economic, and social cone~, 19 Youth Movements ent and there usually are, some shreds of tru th in their deductions. Youth has proved itself right in the past; there is no reason why it is not right in the present . ditions, youth wants to try its hand in the healing, believing that it can do no worse than its predecessors. Under the fiery passionateness of youth movement$, there lies an inexhaustible source of belief-belief in the better nature of m an that will prove itself when chaos diminishes into nothingness before a dominating order. Youth has little or no conception of defeat. It must be ap plauded, therefore, in the intrepidity of its undertakings. You th h as joined hands again. It is not surprising that this should occur after a world war which called so completely for the cooperation of youth throughout the world. They are eager to test their theories; they h ave formed an International Union of Students. In America students of the colleges have expressed their desire for a national organization which will bind them to gether regardless of politics or creed. The first step forward in this direction was the Chicago Students Conference late in December, 1946. In animated assemblies, in heated panels, a cross section of America decided there would be a definite benefit derived from an organization consisting of every college in the United States. Here would be a clearing house for student problems, student exchange, student travel, and numerous other activities of the student world. Plans were made for a constitutional convention at which time the National Students Organization will become a reali ty. It is much to be lamented that youth movements have sometimes gone awry by reason of the interference of adults. Su ch was the case of the }ugel1bewegUl1g of Germany which began as a true youth movement but was diverted by adults who took advantage of the idealism and eagerness of young people in pursuit of that which is new. The young people were betrayed into an acceptance of false principles which they carried over into their own generation of rule. From the days of the Greek republic men have looked to the youth of a nation to carryon. The retiring genera tion has been generous with their time-tried counsels, but they have respected the rights of their succeswrs, not exerting undue influence on their beliefs. Yet sometimes men have failed to observe this code of honor. Youth believes that adults should listen to their reasonings, detecting , if pres- Although no flaming torches or lusty songs will mark this movement, its brand will seer just as deeply. 20 TO HIS SERVANT National Anthology of College Poetry , 1946- 47. I despise that Persian pomp And linden crown, deride; Search not, my boy, for roses rare, Nor place where they abide. Embellish not the myrtle plain For 'tis no wish of mine, When unbecoming to us both, This gaudy, mantling vine. - BA RBARA HIPP ( translation 'of Hora ce-Porsicos Odi I, 38) THE PEONIES National Anthology of College Poetry , 1946-47. The peonies are growing Along the old brick wall. The pinkness of their nodding heads Is soft and feather-like. The friendly ivy on the wall Twines lovingly Around its neighbors' stems And the old dullness of the ivy Supports the fresh, sun-seeking peony leaves. The peonies are growing, Pink-clad spring. -Lors 21 TENBIEG CakeS!top Romance by JEAN MORTLOCK In the cake-shop window Geoffrey, the gingerbread boy beamed with happiness. Now you may think it queer that this g ingerbread boy's name should be Geoffrey, for you know gingerbread boys seldom have names; in fact, they are u sually in some little g irl's or boy's tummy before they have time to think of a name for themselves. However, 22 when Geoffrey popped out of the oven on Saturday, no one bought him, and since the bakery closed a t noon that d ay, Geoffrey had the week end to Jive a short and happy life. When Geoffrey saw himself, he was amazed and quite pleased with his chubby frame, the three raisi n buttons on his coa t , his red hot eyes, raisin nose, and pink icing mouth that turned up at the corners in a smile. Geoffrey was surrounded by trays of other gingerbread boys, but none were as handsome as Geoffrey. While he was being pushed here and there in the back of the bakery, one of the assistants bumped him so hard that the pink icing of his smiling mouth nearly became dislocated into a sneer. Geoffrey managed to survive, however, and by ten o'clock Saturday morning was in a standing position in the bakery window. This Geoffrey enjoyed very much. He liked being the center of attraction, and scarcely noticed the other occupants of the cake-shop window. of arrows, arid if you ever feel a peculiar bumping sensation around the region of your first raisin button, encase your heart in ice!" "If the arrows hurt, why do you go around shooting them?" asked Geoffrey. "That's my job. The minute 1 was off the assembly line at the toy factory I was handed a bow and arrow, and a list of instructions on the method of shooting unwary victims." " Oh," said the gingerbread boy, "thank you for your warning; and I'll remember and stay out of harm's way." "I must go now, Geoffrey," said Dan. "My work begins about the time my boss, the moon, is high in the sky. Goodbye, and remember my advice." "Ho, hum," yawned Geoffrey, "guess I'll take a walk, and find out who else is in this window." Twelve o'clock soon came, and the bakery curtains were drawn. When Geoffrey had become accustomed to the dim lighting, he began to wish for some company. To the left near a large chocolate cake he spied a mound of white fluff mounted with a curlyheaded cherub armed with a bow and arrow. Geffrey said to himself, "There is no reason for me to be so lonely, I'll go over to that chubby little fellow with the big red heart and get acquainted." That's just what Geoffrey did, too. At first Geoffrey's legs were stiff, because he wasn't used to walking, but he didn't find it difficult to learn. Approaching the little fellow he brightly asked, "What's your name? Mine's Geoffrey." The little yellow moon cakes lighted Geoffrey's path as he picked his way through the maze of pies at the front of the window. His legs were just beginning to ache, when to the right he faintly distinguished a glistening white mound which slightly resembled the house Dan occupied, but which was ten times more beautiful. Geoffrey gazed in wonder, and nearly tripped over a small chocolate chip cookie tha t ran across his pa tho "Oops, 1 beg your pardon," apologized Geoffrey. "Tell me, do you know who lives there?" "That's the china bride's cake!" called the cookie as he scampered away. Geoffrey just sat and gazed. How beautiful! One mountain of white on top of the other, and glistening silver baubles which shone like little lamps. And at the peak was the loveliest vision that Geoffrey had ever gazed upon. She was dressed in silk and lace, and "Don't you know me?" chuckled the merry cherub. "I thought everyone knew me. You haven't been around long have you? My name's Cupid, but you may call me Dan. Stay out of the way, Geoffrey. I'm having target practice." "Why, will your arrows hurt me?" "Well," answered Dan, "that depends on what you consider ' bei~g hurt. There are some people who say that they actually enjoy being in love. My advice to you is to stay out of the way (Please turn to page 43) 23 [ABPE DIEM Look up, my friend, there's much to ' doThe year is yet untouched with dew That newborn hope within thy breast Should send thee upon the quest Of new adventure. What times in the past have I heard you say "Tomorrow, tomorrow, not today 'Twill suffice for such troubling thingsToday is full and tomorrow brings A chance for change!" Strike now, dear friend, and gather thy day About you, lest it turn away Chiding the fool who let it slip by Unused, disdained without a try For opportunity. Hark, then, that thy only resolution be "Let the coming dawn bring to me What it will; please God, I'll have the grace To accept my fate with unflinching face For today was seized." -BARBARA HIPP 24 BLACK SORROW Leaping flames envelope my stupefied gaze, And beckon mind to exile, in a land of tears. Curiosity urges consent-drowsiness overcomes! Here hearts, fired in a kiln of sorrow, Are hidden by the mirth of a laughing race. These victims-so lashed by tongues of ignorance, How they are marked for their life of disgrace! Alas! Mind awakened by falling ashes of logs devoured May never again be beckoned therein. But the tears, the race mirror an existing Truth. The land, is it ours-or is it a dream? -LOIS MENDENHALL . tn by Walking through the downtown section of a city immediately after a heavy rain always seems to fill me with a deeper appreciation of the real beauty of the free things of life. The whitewalled buildings, which, before their unsolicited bath, were gray with the dirt and smoke of the city, have now acquired that "well-scrubbed" look, recapturing the freshness of years before when they were newly-born. The rain has relieved the streets of the usual accumulation of discarded newspapers, broken glass and other articles, giving them a smooth, transparent look, similar to a thin coating of ice. Near the curbstones are the temporary streams flowing rapidly toward their destination carrying with them little unidentifiable articles which, to the excited child watching from the sidewalk, 25 CATHERINE GORM LEY would be little sailboats, speeding along on a g reat lake. The streetcar tracks up and down the center of the streets appear to have just been waxed and highly polished, their steel rails gleaming in the darkness. The department store windows have lost the distracting cover of dust, and even the mannequins within their sheltered show cases, appear to have been the recipients of nature 's bath. Reflected on the sidewalks, refreshed by their shower after supporting the crowd of shoppers and workers all day, are the multi-colored lights of the hundreds of neon signs. The overall cleanliness of the surroundings makes a person feel that he should remove his shoes so as not to leave tracks as he walks along inhaling the beauty provided gratuitously by nature. Radio script awarded Second Prize in N atiol1al Mariology Contest, 1947. oilB LADY Of fATIMA by MARY CATHERINE CANGANY NARRATOR: Once again Our Divine Master has chosen to manifest His divinity in a miraculous manner, and once again Mary, Our Mother, was privileged to be the emissary, bringing to the world the words of God. This event took place in May, 1917, in a village called Fatima in Portugal. Our Blessed Mother appeared to three small children who were tending their sheep on ~: hillside, giving to them the marvelous words of heaven and at the same time laying the foundation for devotion to her Immaculate Heart. (The following skit is a scene from this apparition.) iog and get to work. Lucy, you gather more stones, and Jacquinta and I will start putting them together. There, that's right, Jacquinta. JACQUINTA: I love doing this. Do you think we'll have it finished by dark? FRANCIS: If we hurry. Lucy: There, five stacks, ten stones in each stack. Is that enough? FRANCIS: Just get a few more and then you can start helping us put it together. JACQUINTA: Fran says if we work hard we can finish it today. (A thunderil1 g noise is IJeard at a distanc e and then returns I01lder.) Lucy: Did you hear that? I believe it's going to storm. We had better g uide the sheep toward home. FRANCIS: Come on Jacquinta, we can finish this tomorrow. ]ACQUINTA: Look! Lightning. NARRATOR: Above the children app ~ a rs a beautiful young lady who speaks: LADY: Do n ot be afraid, I will not hurt you. Lucy: Where are you from? LADY: I come from heaven. ]ACQUI NTA: From the beautiful heaven above? FR ANCIS: I pray so hard every day. Tell me, beautiful Lady, will I go there when I die? TIME : Around noon. PLACE: Cave de Iria in Portugal. CHARACTERS: The beautiful Lady; Jacquinta, a small girl of five; Francisco, a boy of nine; Lucy, a girl of eleven; and voices from the crowd. NARRATOR: We can hear the three c hildren saying, CHORUS: Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the h our of our death. L uey: There , now tha t our rosary is finished we can start to work on our little stone house. FRANCIS: Have you noticed how beautiful the sky is today? Gee, it makes you feel close to heaven. J ACQUINTA: It is pretty. Lu cy : I noticed that, too. F RAN CIS: Well, let's quit the dream- 26 LADY: Yes, my little one, all good people go there to meet their Heavenly Father. Lucy: Will I see my Grandma there? ]ACQUINTA: And little Maria? She just died last month. We liked to play together w much. LADY: In this beautiful place everyone is happy together. You will have all this happiness, but oh, much more. Lucy: But why did you come back here? LADY: I have a favor to ask you . little ones, I want you to come here the thirteenth of each month at this same hour. In October I shall tell you who I am, and what I want. Lucy: Will you be at this same spot? ]ACQUINTA: Every month? LADY : Yes, a t this same spot every month. Until then you must be faithful to your rosary and say it every day. FRANCIS: Oh, we will. We had just finished saying it when you came. LADY: You must be fervent in your prayers so that the sufferings you will have to endure will be mere trifles on your way to the beautiful place from which I come. (Faint strains of Tota Pulchra Es.) NARRATOR: Then amidst heavenly strains of melody the beautiful lady vanishes. The children stand speechless until Jacquinta, the smallest, says, ]ACQUINTA:She was beautiful. Lucy: Her robe was such a pretty blue, edged in gold. Gee! FRANCIS: What does she mean suf~ ferings? Lucy: (Wistfully) I don't know, but her beauty is beyond words. I'm sure everything will be O.K. if we just do what the lady tells us. FRANCIS: We must hurry to tell our mother. JACQUINTA: When will we finish our house? Lucy: Come, Jacquinta, we can finish it later. 27 NARRATOR: The three children hurry homeward filled with love and admiration for the lady they have just seen. Again in June, the same time and place, the Blessed Mother appears to them. The suffering she had mentioned came to them in the form of protest and doubt as the people refused to believe in the devotion they were beginning to love so dearly. They were scorned and their lives threatened. The devotion to the rosary had prepared them for this suffering, however, and they endured all courageously. Curiosity brought about sixty people to the scene of the second a ppari tion and by October there were seventy thousand men and women from all parts of the world at Fatima to witness the miracle the beautiful lady had promised to work for the children. Lucy: I know the beautiful lady will ,orne. She would not disappoint us. FRANCIS : Yes, and she will give us a sign as proof to all the people. JACQUINTA: For she said she would. FRANCIS: She is so beautiful. NARRATOR: In the distance can be heard the sounds of people's voices, some approving, and others scorning. Then suddenly: JACQUINTA: She is coming. See! VOICE IN CROWD: Look, the rain has ceased, the clouds have vanished, and the sun is spinning around like a wheel of fire. SECOND VOICE: And the rays coming from it, all of different colors! NARRATOR: Kneeling, they say: "The lady is truly miraculous." While the crowd gazes at the splendor of the sun, the children see the beautiful lady and the series of tableaux which she presents to them. Lucy comments on the first which is the Holy Family, Our Lady with Saint Joseph carrying the child. Lucy: She is more beautiful than before. (Pl ease turn to page 38) LOUIS DE MONTFORT by . An apostle 0/ lVIary MARY JO DOHERTY lnerits canonization Lovers of Mary have alerted to the news that one more of her zealous devotees will soon be raised to the altar. The canonization of Louis Marie Grignon de Montfort has been set for July 20, 1947. Revered as the founder of two religious communities, De Montfort is best known for his Treatise on the True Devotion to the Blessed Virgin. Of the noble but impoverished family De La Bacheleraie, Louis Grignon de Montfort later adopted the name of his native city for that of his father. He was born on January 31, 1673, in Mqntfort-Ia-Canne, the oldest of eight children. Stories are told of his kindly disposition which endeared him to his friends, of his struggles against an angry temper, of his devotion to Our Lady even in boyhood days. Because the child showed talent, especially for drawing, he was sent to the Jesuit school at Rennes. But Louis, the dreamer, was not planning to draw pictures; his desire was to draw souls to God and His Mother. The announcement of his intention to ~. tudy for the priesthood came as a shock to Louis' f am ily and his unsympathetic father opposed him harshly. The lad had heard glowing accounts of the holiness of the Sulpicians in Paris and longed to join them, but Pa.ris was far away and he h ad no funds . When a kind lady promised him help he started on his two hundred mile 28' trip to the capital, walking in the rain, s lee pin g in haystacks and under bridges, begging for food. All these hardships were crowned by a severe disa ppointment when he found that his benefactress had arranged for him to study, not with the $ulpicians, but with a small and very poor community. Louis felt that he was only an added burden to the group, but he was given work as a means of supporting himself there. One of the tasks assigned him was that of watching the dead at night, when it was customary to have religious wake with the corpse. Macabre as this ma y seem to the modern, the eager theology student made a virtue of ne ce~sity; he spent part of each evening in m ~ ditation and prayer, and the rest of the time he used to study his notes. When Louis was about ready to take Minor Orders, his Superior died and h e had to transfer to another small community. Finally, however, he was admitted to the Seminary of Saint Sui pice. His dream had come true; but its realizat :O:1 might not have seemed h appy to one less intent. The young man had acquired a number of pious habits which the new superior felt impelled to try by humiliation. His practice of rigorous penances, of trading his clothes with beggars, of dropping on his kness at any time or place to pray were condemned as fan atical and were openly ridiculed. All the efforts of the student to cooperate m et with censure and repri- I mand, still he was not dispirited. He was allowed to complete his studies and he was ordained at the age of twentyseven. He offered his first Holy Mass in the Lady Chapel of Saint Sulpice. The young priest volunteered for mission work in North America, but he was refused. He was destined for greater work in his own country. The h eresy of Jansenism had wiped out the fait h fr om many French towns and Pere De Montfort spent himself in going fr om village to village, rousing the p eople by his own contagious cheerfuln ess to restore their poor churches and return to the practice of their religion. Bitterly opposed by the heretics, he was driven from place to place; yet his work seemed to thrive on opposition and humiliation. In these apostolic years he founded the Congregation of the Mis~ionaries of the Holy Ghost at Saint Laurent-sur-Sevre and that of the Daughters of Wisdom. Although these gained few members during the holy founder's lifetime they, like his "True Devotion," grew substantially in later yea rs. The book on "True Devotion" to the Blessed Virgin was also the indirect result of his persecution. The heretics at LaRochelle had determined to be rid of him once for all, and a deadly poison was mingled with his food. The priest 29 wondrously survived but not without a great deal of suffering. It was during this period of convalescence that h e composed his treatise. For long years the little book was unknown, but over a century after his deadl it was fOt!nd by one of the priests of his congregation at Saint Laurent in 1842. The "Tru e Devotion" ha s enjoyed a new and vigorous following in our times. In essence it requires the formal en tr y into a compact with Mary, whereby one gives to her one's whole self, thoughts, deeds, and possessions , both spiritual and temporal; past, present, and future. Such a complete renunciation has caused advocates to refer to it as the "Slavery of Mary." The soul gives all to Mary that he may thereby come closer to God through Mary and be more pleasing to God. The C hurch has approved the practice of De Montfort's devotion by t he establishment of the Confraternity of the Queen of Hearts with its special spirit ual privileges to the members. De Montfort died on April 28, 1716, at the age of forty-three, after sixteen years of priestly labor. His death date will be commemorated by the Church as the feast of a saint whose life was exemplified in the motto "To Jesus through Mary." BEBTA HUMMEL by SARAH PAGE Whence the HUll~11'lel figurin es mand, "Berta, draw me!" And swiftly the child's own individuality and personality were caught on a sc rap of paper bv Berta's talent. - During the years of the first Wodd War Adolf Hummel had to leave his family to serve in the army. Little Berta wrote him frequent letters, gaily decorated and fully illustrated in her own way. In 1921 Berta was sent to the Mallingen Volkschule of the Institute of English Frauleins at Simmbach in Inn. She continued to excel in art work and at the recommendation of her instruc tors her parents consented to give their daughter special trainin g. In 1927 they took her to Munich. There she availed herself of every cultural opportunityvisiting the art galleries, frequentin g the theatres, and attending concerts. In short, she was interested in everything which she thought might help her art. Her ac h ievement at the Munich Art Academy was su ch that her professors had high ambitions for her future as an artist. The fullness of her experience in art circles, however; only confirmed in Berta's mind the plan which had been becoming g radually m ore clear. The love of children, of innocence, of beauty were only wisps of what she was seeking. She decided that she must find her answer in religious life. Before she was twenty she was ad mitted to the F ranciscan convent at Seissen, Wurtembur ,;, Germany, and she made her profe s~ion of vows August 30, 1934. H er Americans have capitulated again to the charm of childhood. Shoppers at a busy counter have been captivated by a hint of mischievousness peering from behi~d an angelic face, or by a mask of pertness cloaking an unblemished soul, or hu ge eyes brimming with innocence. The Hummel figurines and prints have attracted the young and the old, the sophisticated and the naive. Although Hummel creations have taken their place with other lovely things which Americans consider their own, few know anything of the artist who identifies her work with forthright letters in the right hand corner of her sketches . Some vague news about her being a German nun stirred us to an investigation which probed and discovered a few facts. In the little village of Ma ssing in Lower Bavaria Adolf Hummel was a successful merchant. His wife Victoria bore him six daughters. The third of these, Berta, was born on May 21, 1909. When she was five years old Berta join ed her sisters at the village school, conducted by the Poor School Sisters. Very eady she manifested a talent for drawing. Her friends were amazed to discover the life -likeness of anything she chose to sketch. Frequently she was call ed upon by the teacher to entertain her schoolmates for a while, and at the b lack board, under her nimble fingers, g rew carefree birds, swaying trees, and frisky animals. Many children stopped her in the street with a pleading com- 30 the significant little bee which so often appears (Hummel means "bumble" ) ; h er technique in picture or figure is quite distinct. choice of the order is especially noteworthy because she loved nature, animals, and children, even as did St. F rancis. As he had ex pressed his love in songs, Berta put hers into pictures. The name given her in religion , too, was surely significant . She who could so well reproduce the peculiar quality of childhood which we recognize as Inn ocence was known as Sister Mary Innocenza. In the convent Berta's superiors directed her to continue the work she loved . During the years of Hitler's rise the little Hummel figurines made their appearance. Placed on exhibition at the Leipzig fair the little painted statues of children attrac ted American buyers and thus found their way to American shops. Sister Mary Innocenza was not even a name here, but her work was seized upon with delight. Her peasant children, her lovable infants were compelling. What IS the secret of the Hummel success? It is certainly not a prepublication publicity stunt. It is an inherent quality of the pictures and figures themselves. The artist sees her subjects, sees in them the gleam of wonder, of joy, of innocence and of love, and with the deft touch of her pencil or brush realizes the same effect on her paper, or in the clay. A few strong strokes makes a life -like expression; a well chosen pastel crea tes the realistic coloring. One thinks of the little picture of the baby and the bumble bee. One stroke makes the blanket under his chin, a curve sets his little head, two circles make his wondering eyes, another line makes the little nose that is cocked expectantly toward the hovering bee. And the simple composltJOn thus crea ted is so real tha t it tugs il~ your heart strings. Her handling of t;~ ~aar~ coal or pastel is individual; the texture of her sketches is unmistakable. One scarcely need s to see her. signature, or Although the nun-artist confined herself to a rather narrow fi;ld of" subjects, the diversity within that field is remarkable. Houses, shrines, animals, children, angels, saints. Christs and Madonnas are her favorites. All of her subjects have been drawn in their natural coloring from real life, from boys in patched pants to shy little pigtailed girls. In the illustrations for "Hanzel and Gretel" she presents the stockylegged, chunky peasant children and a very convincing, malicious, gnarled witch, her eyes glaring with evil. In the matter of Christmas cards Berta Hum( Pl ease turn t o page 44 ) 31 Am,erica c01nl1teJ1~Orates the centenary of THOMAS ALVA EDISON by JOAN BAUMER One hundred years ago the war between the United States and Mexico came t.o an end . Beyond the comparatively young state of Ohio stretched vast terri tories a wal tmg settlement; Chicago could not yet be reached by railroad. An obscure young lawyer named Abraham Lincoln had just been elected to Congress. Men had not yet gotten over the wonder of Samuel Morse's new discovery, and a patent official had just resigned because there was nothing more to be invented! Young Tom Edison was like many another lad-idealistic, ambitious, and poor. Money today, broke tomorr~w. But the world was moving swiftly and Tom kept up with it. By 1870 he had established his own factory. Soon he moved to Menlo Park, N . J., where he was to devote his life to his unusual profession-that of inventor. In those days professional laboratories where experiments were carried on toward practical ends were a rarity. Edison was severely criticized for his bold launching of a new idea. He was rega rded by scientists as a sort of intruder. In one instance Edison announced the perfection of a dynamo in which only one -tenth of the machine power was lost instead of the sixtenths previously lost from other dynamos. Some of his critics generously t~ied to show him by simple algebraic equations that he was wrong. Into such a land and such a time of opportunity was born in Milan, Ohio, Thomas Alva Edison. Thomas Edison, whose name we associate with the invention of the electric light, deserves more than brief credit for a single invention. No single test can accurately reveal the greatness of a m an. A list of Edison's inventionseven an imposing one that includes the stock ticker, generator, three-wire system, electric railway, and wireless teleg raph-does not give a true picture. With a man of genius, estimates of his fortune, amount of work accomplished, or length of service rendered do not count. There is much more to consider. Edison's life is an inspiring one even at face value, but behind his long list of accomplish~ents lies a tale of d aring, suffering, patience, and faith. By these qualities does he measure to the yard-stick of the truly great. The invention of the incandescent lamp took many years. Edison was determined not to give the electric light to the public until it was cheap enough for all. He wanted to make it so cheap that only the rich could afford to burn candles. During the time spent on experiments criticism was sharp. "Faker," . "imposter," and "fraud," he was called. But the appearance of the lamp caused a sensa tion. The fame that came to Edison he sca rcely no~iced. In almost every way he 32 was different from the accepted standard of greatness. The public was freely admitted to roam through the laboratories at Menlo Park. If some useful information was picked up, well ;lnd good. If some tourist saw what mi ght be helpful in an invention of his own he was welcome to what he found. Not for the Wizard of Menlo Park was the role of a recluse. At the end of his long and active life Edison had no regrets. What if a di ~honest lawyer had stolen 76 patents from him! What if jealous rivals had attempted to share his glory in the transmitter, the microphone, the phonograph! There was still much for him to do. He told a friend that in his notebook were ideas enough to keep him busy for another hundred years. Today the world has graduated to the realm of atom bombs, television, and jet-propelled planes. Gone is the pioneer feeling of one hundred years ago. In a large measure the world can be grateful to this man named Edison. He, whose centenary we celebrate this year, did more than perhaps any other single man to advance materially the world in which he lived. Our telephone chats are possible largely through his work on the transmitter; our "Bob Hope" programs come through because of his gift of the microphone; our machine sewing is much more joy because of the motor he added. Most important of all, when we press a button to light a darkened room we make use of his greatest inventionthe electric light. by From the broad golden base their thin delicate stems branched, one to her right hand, one to her left hand as if in supplication for those who daily beg at her feet. With the warmth of love, the freshness of dawn, the humbleness of prayer, yet with the stateliness of divine purpose they spread their glow over her virginal countenance. They fushed into one harmonious voice, yet each symbolized a different path. Could it be life they pictured in its joys 33 LORETTA SPAULDING and sorrows? One glowed spasmodically, struggling for each breath, as the young birch against the northern gale. The other flushed but slightly, flickering not, but swayed tall and stately as a willow in the calm breezes. Thus in this same, soft, small beauty they mingled with the muffled strains of the organ, with the sweet perfume of the incense and conveyed my prayer upward. These flames of undying love-the Vigil Lights. PHII:E OF SIN T~y thirst is quenched by blood, 0 Charity! In a glaze of pain Love's eyes grow dimThen linger. Above that altar of sin Through a crimson curtain they look to Thee Whose heart is rent by Mercy's cry! Man's ruin doth witness his own rebirth As Death steals the garb-Heaven's abode on earth. Thou, Breath of Life, art smothered! 'Tis pride That prods empty courage to kill its source. Bold Ignorance! Dare to gaze in Humility's tears There to partake of Eternity-Everlasting Charity! -LOIS MENDENHALL 34 naval.Jnvilalion by CATHERINE GORMLEY A Marian GI It was la te in the afternoon when the draft to which I had been assigned entered the "boot camp" gates of the Navy's indoctrination school for its prospective members. Those gates were closed behind us for six weeks-six weeks devoted to the transformation of an individual to a serial number, capable of taking orders without displaying the human desire to rebel. I was ~cared and had been ever since I had boarded (or rather been forced aboard, for I nearly changed my mind at the last minute) the train in my small home town. After being admitted to the station g rounds everything began to happen so quickly that the details are not very clear to me now. In the course of what seemed an exceedingly short span of time we were issued our uniform ha ts and cotton hose, were taught how to make our bunks in the taut military fa'Shion, and consumed our first rations in a mess hall. We were lectured briefly on some outstanding rules an d regulations and were warned explicitly that the nex t mornin g we would be awakened by a bell at 5: 00 A. M., at which time we must immediately get out of our bunks and "fall in" for roll call. The warning was profferred in a tone which necessarily demanded complete cooperation, doubl y guaranteed by the fact that it had been impressed upon us numerous times that we were no longer individuals but rel1~inisces members of a military organization which could not permit disobedience or laxness. I had a little trouble that night ge tting to sleep. I had been assigned to an upper bunk in a room occupied by t w elve girls. In the first place, it took a great deal of struggling and maneuvering to hoist the lower portion of my anatomy up and into the strict horizontal position required to sleep in such a bunk. My perseverance and determination brought me through the ordeal successfully. Having acquired the position for sleeping I began to fear th at my efforts had been in vain, for I spent the nex t hour or so trying to become adjusted to the novelty of sleeping ten feet above the floor in mid-air. When finally I was able to assure myself that the possibility of my fallin g out was very small, it occurred to me that it h ad always been very difficult for me to get up in time to get to work at home, and they h ad been so firm in their warning ~hat everyone must "hit the deck" promptly at 5 :00 A. M. I finally managed to doze off but awo ke many times, and each time I wondered if it was close enou gh to 1 o'clock to make it advisable for m e t o juot stay awake. But each time slumber w as victorious. Then suddenly I was awakened by a persistent clanging, comparable only to a raucous fire alarm. Lazily I partially opened my eyes, and, 35 Naval Initiation before the heavy lids would permit me total vision, I knew that this riotous alarm meant reveille. Recalling the belligerent look of the officer's countenance when she warned us to be out of our bunks before the alarm ceased ringing, I sleepily proceeded to comply. I threw off the covers and stepped out of bed, completely forgetting that said bed was ten feet above the floor. When I finally reached the floor it was in a maze of blackness superimposed by hundreds of white stars. My roommates, all eleven of them, rushed over to see what had happened. I wasn't certain myself until several hours later when, sitting in the dispensary awaiting my turn, I looked at my enlarged ankle, bulging over the side of my shoe. I realized then that I would have to attempt to find an easier and less literal method of "hitting the deck" each morning. RUIN Windswept garden Tear-drenched plot Reminiscent of splendor Ages past. Fear-filled garden Shimm'ring hate Reproaching the modern Changes made. Lift up thy head! Take pride in thy place! Wouldst thou have scorned Success? - 36 MARJORY GULDE The solution of the 1nurder l1'lystery was ol1ly a by MARY FRANCES PUNCH ney didn't believe her story, and charged her with the murder. I argued that Libbie was incapable of such a thing, but to no avail. Seeing I was getting nowhere, I asked for more information. They told me they had received a phone call about six o'clock from Jeff Stone's apartment. Libbie's half hysterical voice on the wire tried to tell them what was wrong. When they reached the scene, Libbie was sitting on the edge of the sofa, dry-eyed , drained of all hysteria, but on the verge of collapse. Jeff was sprawled before the fireplace, his own paper knife in his back. The cocktail glasses were broken; the pieces were sent to be checked for possible finger prints. \'Vhile the police were telling me this, several reports had arrived. The test for fingerprints proved negative, but a faint trace of lipstick was discovered on the rim of one of the broken glasses. Chemical analysis revealed this to compare identically with Libbie's own lipstick. Her trial is coming up soon, and I still haven' t been much help. The District Attorney's case sounds quit'e logical, if you don't know Libbie. He figures that Libbie loved and was jealous of Jeff and went to his apartment to warn him about his attentions to other women. She evidently hadn't intended I sat in the dignified waltmg room of the District Attorney's office" curious as to why I had been summoned. Perhaps some new evidence had been found in the Stone case. The Stone Case! It all seemed so unreal, so shocking. I remembered the newsboys, screaming the headlines "Jeff Stone Murdered." Jeff Stone, rising young lawyer and popular man about town; Jeff 5tone, who was found stabbed to death in his apartment. And Libbie, poor Libbie, was held for his murder. I had tried to help her, but so far had been able to accomplish little. It all happened two weeks ago. Jeff and I were to have h ad a dinner date that night at the Ritz-Carlton, but my editor assigned me to a night case, and I had to break our plans. I tried to get in touch with Jeff, phoning his apartment several times, but each time the phone was busy. Finally, I asked my assistant, Libbie Adams, if she would stop on her way home to explain to Jeff. The apartment was not out of her way, so she agreed and left the office at five-thirty. At seven o'clock, I received a call from police headquarters. I went over immediately, and found that Libbie was being held for Jeff's murder! She insisted that when she reached his apartment, she had found h im dead, a knife in his back. The District Attor- 37 Stone's Throw killing him, or she would have brought a weapon. They had an argument, her anger flared, she broke her cocktail glass, and in the last heated minutes, she grabbed the paper knife in a frenzy of anger, and 'stabbed him. My thoughts were interrupted as the sec retary announced that District Attorney Langely would see me now. As I entered the inner office, his voice came clear and curt. "Won't you come in, Miss Stevens? Or should I call you Mrs. Stone?" "How did you know?" I gasped. "It 'wasn't difficult to find out," came his calm voice. "But how~no one knew." "A certain justice of the peace knew -and now we know - EVE R Y THING!" "Everything?" I felt something close inside of me, and I knew there was no use bluffing. "I'm not sorry I killed him," I replied, "he never did a thin g for me. He spent our money on other women, and I couldn't stand being made a fool of, even by Jeff." The District Attorney helped with my coat. "Then my theory about the murder was right, only you were the murderess, not Libbie?" he inquired. "Yes." The word came out a muffled sob. He gen tly took me by the arm, and led me to the door. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Stone," he said; "under the circumstances, the case of the prosecution will not be changed, only the names of the defendants." We left the room. The curtain fell. The applause was thunderous. Backstage, I ran to my husband. "They liked your play, our play, darling, they liked it," I cried. "Sure, they liked it, honey. And they loved you as Mrs. Stone. Now go out and take your curtain call." oor Lady of Fatima (Continued from, jJage 27) NARRATOR: And as each tableau passed the children became more devout, but as the last one vanished, the sun, as if loosed from the heavens came toward the earth amid loud cries of t error from stricken people as they fell to the ground believing that it was the end of the world. Lucy: Do not fear Jacquinta; Our beautiful Lady will ca re for us. NARRATOR: And that she did, for suddenly the sun stops in its descent and returns to its usual place in the sky. Lucy: This is the miracle that Lady promised us. She is heavenly and we 38 must spread devotion to her as she asked us. FRANCIS: Now they will believe us. Now for sure they will say their rosary. ]ACQUINTA: From now on I will say m ine every day. (Faint-ly are heard the strains of Ave Maria. ) N ARRA TOR: And thus all the people present pledge themselves to devotion to the Immaculate Heart of Mary, confident that their prayers will be heard. They pled ge themselves to the promises revealed in these apparitions which even today have never been revoked, a sign of their validity. (Cresce11do Ave Maria.) BOOKS by REXFORD G. TUGWELL A Puerto Rican evaluates a study Puerto Rico has been the possession of the United States since 1899, when in the Spanish American War General Miles entered the island with his army of occupation. In an eloquent speech h e promised to promote Puerto Rican prosperity and to give the advantages and blessings of an enlightened civilization. But over the years the Island has become a ruinous one-crop country, and along with the economical problems ~ocial and political ones have developed . In a recent book Rexford G. Tugwell has sought to arouse the national conscience to the need of adopting an honest and sound policy toward Puerto Rico. He wants to awaken the interest and curiosity of every indi'vidual to realize h ow necessary it is to improve the political, social, and economical sta tus of the Puerto Ricans. Tugwell's book is a lengthy report of his gover;J.orship. of the island. He gives emphasis to the political struggles that arose during those five years, but also discusses the British colonial policy in the Caribbean, the American strategy 39 0/ her native island in the island, and his own reactions to and experiences with the Puerto Ricans. The author tries to make the reader understand the complicated problems that the island has presented since it is under the control of the United States. According to him the root problem is that of inability to supply the overcrowded area with enough labor to meet the needs . A faulty insular economy and a not very efficient agricultural system cannot provide a means of livelihood for a decent standard of living to the majority of the population. These problems are further complicated by the fact that Puerto Rico has no middle class. As a result the laboring class depends entirely on those who own the land and capital. All the big sugar companies are owned by continen t al kings who spend their money abroad, leaving none to circulate at h ome. Even the inclusion wi-thin the American tariff wall has given adyantages only to the continental corporations and to a few thousands of the elect all of the officials of their government. As an interested Puerto Rican, I found Tugwell's account to be a clear and accurate study of a difficult era. The book is lengthy, nearly seven hundred pages, and contains much material not dealing directly with Puerto Rico. It could have been half as long if the author had limited his discussion to Puerto Rico, yet the material presented over and above is evidence of his own broad knowledge of the Rodsevelt period. As a minor issue, I consider the title misleading. It might give the impression to those who glance at the book that Puerto Rico is a miserable island on the verge of starvation. It will make them feel sorry for us. But we do not need pity. What we need is help, a wider recognition of our problems, and a change of policy. Puerto Rico has a great future in it and it should not be neglected. The misrule of United States appointees has now been recognized, the faulty economy is obvious. The sincere efforts for reform, however, should now begin to show their effects. I consider Mr. Tugwell's book a marvelous piece of writing. It will bring to minds and hearts a new understanding and a new interest in the problems of dependent peoples all over the world. wealthier class in the island. What we need is - good, honest leaders who are willing to risk their money in the competition with the wealthy monopolies. Tugwell presents a very dramatic and colorful story of his own program of reforms during his period as governor of Puerto Rico. He became interested in the efforts of Luis Munoz Marin, "head of the Popular party, to secure the observance of the terms of the Organic Act, whereby any corporation was forbidden to own more than five hundred acres of land. So little heed had been paid to the provision that some corpora tions were in possession of from twenty to sixty thousand acres, with disastrous results to the small land owners of the island. The governor had also to confront the bitter opposition of the political parties of the "Coalicion" and the privileged agents in the island. But he did not give up until a well organized program of insular legislation had been adopted. By means of this program the public ownership of public utilities was made possible and the control of the sugar industry passed to a Public Service Commission. A very important agreement was that whereby the Puerto Ricans were given the right to decide what their future relations with the United States would be. This freedom was extended to allow the islanders to -GLADYS GONZALE Z Woman of the Pharisees by FRANCOIS MAURIAC translated by Gerard Hopkins Like Our Lord's "whitened sepulchre" Brigitte Pian shows to the world and to herself the pleasing appearance of a good woman, a woman exemplary of Christian charity and virtue. She IS not content to keep .her goodness to herself; she feels called upon to share, or rather to direct the lives of others into the fields to which God and Brigitte have called them. 40 The story of Brigitte Pian's virtuous, high-minded life is told by Louis Pian, clear to them what God had planned from the beginning of time. He tells her stepson, in a skillful blending of the point of view of the boy Louis and the adult Louis' reflections on his youthful reactions as he tells the story. us through the Abbe that "It is almost inevitable that the professionally virtuous should hold exaggerated ideas of There is a minimum of plot; at school Louis becomes the friend of Jean Mirbel, th~ school scapegoat, who is the importance of their actions . . . that measuring themselves by the standards of those around them, they should at times be made slightly giddy by the spectacle of their own merits." dominated by a weak, foolish mother and a brutish uncle. Jean is given over to the care of the saintly Abbe Calous and spends his summer vacation near Louis' home. Inevitably he meets Louis' because her structure of virtue lacks sister Michele. Although they are very the unifying element of love. Only at young, fifteen and seventeen, they fall in love with each other. The step- God does not require a meticulous ac- mother Brigitte opposes them, seeing love as a detestable human frailty. count of merits, that He regards not our deserts, but our love. She separates Jean and Michele, with disastrous results. Mauriac reveals humanity, even virtuous men, as sinners, caught in the web of a search for happiness. He crea tes his picture through the mind of youth, a synonymous term for innocence to him. To strengthen the effectiveness of this innocent point of view, the author introduces letters and excerpts from personal journals to reveal situations and personality traits that the young Louis could not have been aware of. The adult Louis, as narrator, critically analyses Louis the boy along with the other persons of the story, maintaining a dignified calmness that is characteristic of the book. At no time is there a violent outbreak of emotional strain, yet there is a certain tenseness noticeable. Revolving around the main plot is the pa the tic story of the schoolmaster Puybaraud, spiritually and materially dependent on Brigitte, who marries against her wishes. His eventual revolt adds to her burden of scruples and remorse. These episodes are representative of the repeated interference of Brigitte, whose dominant personality brooks no opposition. A final realization of the disastrous results of her interfl'rence thrusts her into the depths of despondency, but humble submission to a director brings her to the true path of virtue. Mauriac has displayed in his study of Brigitte Pian a real psychological mastery. He produces an analysis of human motive that keeps the reader aware of the sincerity of purpose in one whose spiritual aspirations for others led her to make every ~ffort "to drive reluctant souls on to the mountain tops," convinced that her duty was to make 41 Mauriac has shown with a penetrating clarity that all the spiritual efforts of the self-righteous Brigitte are sterile the end of her life does she realize that The French novelist has been fortunate in his translator. Even in English the style is clear, sensitive, and restrained. The narration is smooth, the word is always the right one, the message is unmistakable. -Lors TENBIEG by MARGARET HALSEY Color Blil1dis a book capable of startling many' readers by its seemingly revolutionary solutions to problems of . race relationship in the United States. The author, Margaret Halsey of Yon kers, New York, viewing the negro problem in the light of her experiences . as a hostess of the Stage Door Canteen is sure that segregation is not a necessary evil. Her style of writing is sincere and flowing . Throughout there IS an element of realism which is always to the point. Miss Halsey employs every possible argument to put down "bogey" prejudices. Her solutions, appearing drastic at first, having been lived with for a while become convincing. Whenever the White and Neg ro races make plans to intermingle, there arises the worry that "trouble" will rewIt. What is usually meant is that race r iots will follow or "black babies" will spring forth. Miss Halsey puts these aside with a mere wave of the hand as far as her ' canteen was concerned. A canteen was hardly the place to start a riot. Handling of the various problems which came up after the org anization was set up was a job requiring in genuity. The White serviceman who came to the "rescue" of White hostess dancing with Negro serviceman was an example. The author, by re1a ting these experiences, is a ble to show t o the reader the uncalled for and unfounded prejudices of our , so-called white democratic peoples. Color Blind exposes the willingness of the Caucasian to believe all sorts of t ;> les concerning the conduct and qualities of the Neg ro . A Southern sailor ~ poke of a hospital in England having 600 Neg ro babies, although he had no authentic information on the subject. 42 Following the pattern of most bigoted people, he was convinced of the invalidity of the tale, yet he clung to his anti-negro principles . Miss Halsey provides authentic arguments to disprove the fallacies about the Negro's distinctive odor and mental inferiority. She is effective in dispelling the fe ar that Negro men have a sexual attraction for White women. The actual basis for the refusal to mingle with Negroes, says the author, is the economic factor, cheap labor. Having convinced many intellectually, Miss Halsey suggests a method for conquering the em 0 t io n s-get acquainted with Negroes, especially the intelligent, responsible, and mature. This book inspires the reader to fight ever-ex:sting prejudice. "Sickness and diseases will always exist, but that scarcely seems sufficient reason for telling our medical scientists to put on their hats, close up their laboratories and g ive the spirochetes, bacilli, and viruses a free hand." The task is Dot to do away with prejudice but to confine it to smaller quarters. To the oft repeated question, "Would you like your daughter to marry one?" C olo r Blind comes back with, "Do Negroes want to marry White people?" Customs of the day make intermarriage unsound both from a social and economIc viewpoint. The Negro is attracted to the White man not for what he is, but for what he hasfreedom. The concluding chapter outlines a plan whereby individuals may work toward the "integration of the Negro into American society." The task is one of many small contributions"No heroes need apply." -MARY P. MCCARTY troduce you to her, and this afternoon you can ask her to go to the circus with you." Cake Shop Bommu:e (Continued from page 23) Geoffrey and Dan started out for the wedding cake which was called "Fluffy Mount." Dan flew up to the second tier of the cake and did his best to give Geoffrey a proper introduction. Geoffrey immediately blurted out, with her air of grace she charmed the gingerbread boy. Then it happened. Just what Dan had warned him against. Around the region of his first raisin button began a peculiar bumping feeling, and Geoffrey knew he had it. Never in his short life had he experienced love. The pink rosy glow, the light airy sensation were enough to put him in a daze. He gazed up and sighed a long sigh. Geoffrey's hopes soon collapsed. The china doll, glancing down at him, immediately turned her glance skyward. "I just must be introduced," thought Geoffrey. "Maybe Dan knows the china bride. I'll ask him tomorrow." "I'm very glad to meet you. you like circuses?" Do At the mere mention of a circus the china doll's face lighted up, and she said, "I'd be so happy if you'd take me this afternoon." ''I'd be very happy to," said Geoffrey. T h e afternoon at the circus was' well on the way to becoming a huge success when Geoffrey, feeling confident because of his apparent success with the china doll, made his fatal mistake. He boasted tha t he could make the bell ring by knocking the mallet. Geoffrey just didn't have the strength and he failed, and the idol of Geoffrey's life laughed, jus ~ laughed. Geoffrey was heartbroken , and he even took the short route through the doughnuts back to the china bride's cake. With hardly a word he took his leave. The next morning Geoffrey ran as fast as he could to the Valentine cake where Dan was sharpening his arrows in preparation for the next night's work. " Oh, hello, Geoffrey, you don't lo

... THE FIORETTI AN ANTHOLOGY OF MARIAN COLLEGE PROSE AND VERSE , VOLUME ONE Marian College Indianapolis; Indiana 1943 TO MARY Patroness of Marian College Queen of the Order of Friars Minor Mother of the Incarnate Word this volume of human words is lovingly inscribed through him whose w~rds and works are preserved in the Fioretti de S. Francesco d' Assisi HISTORICAL NOTE The Fioretti de S. Francesco d' Assisi, Little Flowers of Saint Francis, is the name of a classic collection of popular legends about St. Francis and his early companions, as they appeared to the Italian people at the beginning of the 14th century. These historic tales recreate the early Franciscan spirit, instinct with poetry. The Canticle of the Sun by St. Francis voices that spirit eloquently. The earliest known Italian version of the Fioretti ranks with the finest specimens of literary Tuscan. FOREWORD The FIORETTI, of which this is the first issue, has a two fold purpose. It aims to give some degree of permanence to student literary '%rks of merit and to encourage among students the cultivation of the art of writing. The fulfillment of the first of these aims, in particular, dictated the inclusion of representative work done by alumnae during their attendance at Marian, 1937-1943. The remaining contributions were selected from the best work entered by students during 1942-1943 in each of the principal fields of English composition. As is necessary in a compilation of this kind, many deserving works could not be included. Some were no longer available, others, due to their length or to duplication of . subject matter or of form, had to be eliminated. While requiring a certain level of literary merit as chief criterion, the editors have attempted to make this anthology representative both in contributors included and in material presented. Grateful acknowledgement is made to the Phoenix, Marian College newspaper, to the Hoosier College Verse, and to Our Sunday Visitor inwhich some of the selections first appeared. STAFF MEMBERS Editorial Editor-in-Chief MARYANNA TODD, '44 Associate Editors JULIANA DILL HOFF, '46 MARY NOONAN, .'46 Business Circulation FRIEDA MEINERS, '46 Finance Typing RENILD-t\ MENY, '45 GERTRUDE SCHROEDER, '46 Art LICIA TOFFOLO, '44 GRACE CRAWFORD, '~6 CONTENTS Ode to Poetry So Shall Ye Reap Perfect Joy My Autumn Rhapsody Vicissitudes April Shower Heart for Sale . Just Won Date Wistful Ode tqa Nun Christmas Eve To Pyrrha To Augustus The Return of Deirdre Mono-Graphs Book-Lure February Three Cheers for ... .. . Silhouette Miracie Responsibility Sanctissimae Trinitati Ode to Sleep Book Review Mary Jane Lang, '41.. .. ...... .... ............ 9 Naomi Raney, '44........................ ..... 10 Sister Margaret Ann, '44............ ...10 Maryanna Todd, '44........................ 11 Anna E. Mehn, '44.................... .. .. ...13 Marietta (Metcalf) Penning, -'44 .... 14 . Beatrice Hynes, '46............ ........ ......15 Betty Armstrong, '45 ...... ............... .19 Naomi Raney, '44 .............................28 Mary Rose (Turner) Buckele, '43 ..29 Anna Mehn, '44 ................................ 30 Mary Jane Lang, '41.. .....................31 Betty Spencer, '41.. .......................... 31 Naomi Raney, '44.. ...........................33 Beatrice Hynes, '46............ ............ .. 35 Mary Jane Hermann, '46................36 Juliana Dillhoff, '46.... .. .............. ......36 Mary N00l1an, '46 ............................. 37 Sister M. Michaela, '43 .......... .........38 Doris Ann Becker, '42 ...... .. .. ..........39 Betty Spencer, '41.. .... .. ....... ....... ..... .41 Anna E. Mehn, '44.... .... ............., .... .42 . Joan Duffin, '45 .. .............. ... ,.......... .. 43 i I, i i II I I i I I I I I CONTRIBUTORS Betty Armstrong, junior, won the 1942 Civic Theatre Award ' for her play Just Won Date. Doris An'n Becker, graduated in 1942, has written articles in Our Sunday Visitor, in the Qu'arterly Journal of the International Federation of Catholic Alumllae,and in a syndicated column Young America by Elsie Robinson. Mary Rose (Turner) Buckele, '43,was a contributor to the Phoenix and to the Hoosier College Verse in 1939.'40., Joan Duffin, junior, counts the criticism of books among her hobbies. Mary Jane Hermann, sophomore, selects the beauty of the commopplace as her favorite literary theme. Beatrice Hynes, junior, finds creative writing a JOY. Her style is unique and different. Mary Jane Lang, graduated in 1941, was a literary leader at Marian College 1937-1941. Two of her odes appeared in the Hoosier College Verse for 1939 and 1940. Sister Margaret Ann, O.S.F., senior, specializes in verse writing on religious themes. Anna Mehn, senior, writes light verse or serious poetry on request. She merited recognition from the American Poet , Laureate Society in 1942. Sister M. Michaela,O.S.F., graduated in 1943, combines literary with scientific interests. Mariet~a (Metcalf) Penning, '43, finds occasional versewriting del,gl1tful. Naomi R~ney, senior, has earned a place in the American Poet Laureat~ Society volume of 1942. Poetry is her first literary lover Betty Spencer, graduated in 1941, was editor-in-chief of the Phoenix for three years. Her literary achievements were ' recognized by the Hoosier ,College Verse in 1939. / 9 ODE TO POETRY MARY JANE LANG, '41 Hoosier College Verse Entry 1939 Thy beauty fair goes singing down the years, To strike an echo in the hearts of men; To bring a peace where once there was but pain; And by thy presence there, ring out again. Thy noble theme imprisoned in man's soul, Through living words wings out its fragile way, As butterfly from its concealing case Unfolds itself, alight with radiant grace. o Music of the Soul, thou strik'st a spark, And what is thine becomes, indeed, the world's For thou art sung from heart to answering heart. i i i Ii I i i II I I I I i Ii I I I I! I. I I I Ii I i I ! 10 , FIORETTI SO YE SHALL REAP NAOMI RANEY, '44 American Poet Laureate Prize Poem 1942 If in the future there should come a time, When I no longer breathe of Freedom's air, W'hen I have reached the end of that long trail Which I have followed all these many years, If that time comes, let no one weep for me. I want no human tears nor sighs Nor mellow sorrowing wail of funeral dirge. Give me instead the sihister sound Of battle; the roar of guns, the harsh sound Of airplanes as they wing their way Spreading death and terror in their path. Let me have this that I may meet my God in my own way, That when I meet Him I may hear Him say, "Enter, well-beloved, and receive thy joy, For thou hast fought courageously for Freedom's sake." PERFECT JOY SISTER MARGARET ANN, '44 Chapter VIII of the Fioretti de S. Francesco 'retold In what does perfect joy consist? Oh pray, List how St. Francis once expounded this To Brother Leo. 'Twas a wintry day As 'mid Perugian snows the twain made haste. St. Francis spoke, "Oh Leo, though the friars Exhaled the sweet perfume of sanctity, Though they had gifts of tongues, or even power O'er every form of dread infirmity. Though at their word the dead received new life, Not e'en with these is perfect joy allied." Then Leo in amazement begged the saint To tell the cherished secret; who replied "To bear all insults, pain, and sacrifice With patience and with joy for love of Christ." 11 Autumn---perfect of seasons, receives tribute in this sketch. If you love a fall day, .readI My Autumn Rhapsody MARYANNA TODD, '44 Autumn is a fascinating season. I sometimes think the new year just begins for me when the Indian summer winds turn cool and scatter gay-hued leaves over the frosty ground. James Russell Lowell's perf~h days came in June; mine come in October. The world, I think, stung by the first crisp winds that hint of the coming winter, hurries too much to note the peculiar charms of autumn. Have you ever paused outside on a bright October day and let the sun run warm fingers of light through your hair? Have you ever felt the wi'ne-like wind bring rose to your cheeks? Or watched the capering squirrels or heard the last call of the birds? I like to see a lake in autumn, with shivering waves ruffling its slate-blue sleekness. . I like to drink cider before a warm fire, and I like the uncertainty of an early snow from leaden skies. I like to walk through the piles of leaves and I like the smoky taste of wieners roasted over an open fire. I like the trees in autumn, as they seem to reach the acme of their beauty. You can see one with its green foliage hardly touched by the frost, while another is a living flame of amber-gold and red. Then, finally, they all are gaunt and bare, awaiting spring, God's gift for their perseverance through the winter. I love Benediction in the autumn twilight, with incense forming a dim veil and misting the mellow gold of candle flames. I love the ' stately beauty of white and yellow chrysanthemums gracing the altar, and the rich swell of the organ announcing the sacramental presence of the Lord of the harvest-time. 12 FIORETTI Some day I shall compose a melody expressing my conception of Autumn. Perhaps I will not write words, for words sometimes are shallow and cannot fully match the beauty of music. In my melody you will hear the crunch of dead brown leaves trod underfoot; you will taste the crisp tang of an autumn apple. My music will rush with the frenzied cries of half-mad college students as their team battles on to football glory. It will throb with the happy laughs of youngsters on Hallowe'en. Hearing it you will b~ reminded of the ~rackle of a log fire, of the acrid smell of burning leaves, of turkey and cranberry sauce- of America pausing to contemplate her blessings on Thanksgiving day. For autumn means all of this to me. Yes, some day I shall compose this melody. And I shall call it My A utumn Rhapsody. 13 VICISSITUDES ANNA E. MEHN, '44 Tears, Sorrow's c:;hildren, Fall, And a pain-wrung heart Seems lighter. Sighs, The language of grief, Breathe In wordless.accents Our deepest woe. Smiles, The keys to happiness, Open The magic chest Of love and joy. Laughter, Like sparkling diamond, Crowns The tear-washed soul With a jeweled diadem. . I 14 FIORETTI . APRIL SHOWER MARIETTA (METCALF) PENNING, '44 I saw a rainbow in the clouds Arched beautiful and high; The gentle rain stopped pattering The zephyrs breathed a sigh. And all the little animals 'Gain scurried to and fro Trying to make up the time They'd lost a while ago. The crickets tuned their violins, The butterflies sipped nectar, Fat robins caught unwary worms And chuckled loud with laughter. I saw a small, shy violet Sparkling still with dew; I saw a glowing dandelion That held some raindrops too. The whole earth looked refreshed, And creatures now were gay; For WaS this riot a perfect end To a very rainy day? 15 Heart For Sale BEATRICE HYNES, '46 Perhaps you know the woman of this story. She may be an acquaintance, a neighbor, or a friend. Have you ever been at an auction? If you haven't, you certainly have ' a thrill in store. There may be something pathetic, however, about a sale of this kind. I remember very distinctly one that I attended approximately a year ago. An elderly woman had decided to break up her home, sell the furnishings, and spend the rest of her days in a small apartment. When I arrived, many friends and outsiders had gathered, for she possessed some valued antiques. The more cautious bidders were sifting in and out among the crowd, going from room to room, from corner to corner, eyeing and ' appraising each article. The owner, at least owner for another half hour, remained in the remote parts of the house, occasionally nodding to those who intruded upon her privacy. She knew that what she was doing was the most sensible thing to do; but, some-how, she couldn't keep that lump from her throat, and now and then she could taste the salt of a tear on her lips. Hearing the auctioneer's gravel tones suddenly pierce the air, she reluctantly proceeded to the spacious living room. I had been watching her for some time and now followed her. She stood apart from the crowd. Her quivering chin and glassy eyes told me I should join the others, but I could not. The tight creased lips began to mumble. Now and then I caught snatches of what she was saying. Why couldn't they have sent another man to conduct the sale- this one seems so cold and indifferent. 16 FIORETTI ' He was starting now and had selected the cranberryjewel hanging lamp as his first item. The 'opening bid was . ,,' ' ten dollars. .' I That lamp was a birthday gift from Tom .. ... ! . . Her eyes lighted as she remembered the expectant look on his face when he stood there waiting to see whether she would like it. Fifteen dollars .................... sixteen .. .. ............ .... twenty. Now it was the French ic onsolepiano- one hundred and fifty.................... i'" / ~ This was a Christmas ,'. gift to Cathy, ';, tiny, delicate" Cathy, who had, loved " ,:' . , music so passi.on~tely. Three hundred ................. ~ .. fdur. " Everything in this room was sold, even the vase on the fireplace. An old friend, noting the blanched face of the one" time proprietor, came over to her and suggested that she had better lie down- no, she wanted to stay. She did, however, accept" the support of her friend's arm. Subsequently her reminiscing grew more articulate. The group proceeded to the dining hall, an enormous room lavishly: furnished. She recalled the many gay dinner parties, the quiet peaceful family ones, the ones by candlelight when she and Tom were first married. She reviewed how young Tom used to beam when asked to say 'grace. "Bless us, 0 Lord, and these Thy gifts"........ .... ........ .... .... she could hear the uncertain, changing voice even now. The library was next. ' All the books and paintings had been bought beforehand, but the furniture still remained. The ,massive oak desk and the comfortable sw~vel-L- - - HEART FOR SALE 17 Tom loved this room and the rose-carved arm chair there'near the windows. From these windows you could get a marvelous view of the hills and the woods. Cathy used to come in here and watch Tom romping with the dogs in the yard. All the miscellaneousitems were gathered in the reception hall. There was the 18th century grandfather-dock-Five dollars .................. .. It had been in the family for years and was a special ffiend of the children. It .stopped running the night Cathy died .. : and it had to be sent away to be repaired. She remembered'that night all too dearly. It was extremely cold and the house seemed submerged in snow. All the other houses were filled with the joy and gaiety of Christmas Eve. In the distance, carollers could be heard singing their holy hymns and spreading good will toward men. Ten dollars ........... ............. twelve-fifty. The love seat--She and Tom had received it as a wedding present and had cherished it dearly. Young Tom was especially fond of it; when he married, it was given to the young couple to help solve part of their home decoration problem. Then came that terrible train wreck. ...,.................. . "Who'll make it seventy dollars?" The small organ was the next victim of the auctioneer's gavel. In how many family musicales, under her own direction, that organ had played: the main role. Tom took suddenly ill after one of these sessions- he was ill . only three weeks, and then ................... .... . - i 18 FIORETTI HDid I hear someone say two hundred?" Nearly everything was gone and only a few of the original group remained to see the sale to the end. The china was being auctioned now. After that, there were just a few odd pieces. I took my leave, sad and somehow quite weary. As I went out through the grounds into the street, I found myself wondering where she was going to stay that night. Would her lodging be her own apartment, a friend's or just a . hotel? . I was afraid that wherever it would be, she would be lonely, for the auctioneer's mallet, which had signed away her earthly possessions, had likewise crushed her heart. 19 ~Just .Won :.Dane :BETTY ARMSTRONG, '45 (Civic Theater' Prize Play, 1942 . Jane 'spends an exciting evening and learns;/a valuable .lesson v:ia'an interesting niixJ..up. ' I CHARACTERS ,Jane:- a rather flippant.young girl. .Joan:- heftvvin sister. -Quiet, butlmodern. a'ommy:- Jane's friend. Gay, iIrresponsible; in'senrice 'for;a , . short time. .' lDonald:- a , recently. arrived neighbor. Artless, handsome, . ,refined. -' SETTING Scene. Living room'.of the twins' ,home. 'Time. One summer evening about .seven o'clock. ,Uane' and Joan are seated in the living room. Jane'is eating ,an apple as she reads a letter. Joan is reading the newspaper.) Jane:- Oh! (Laughs aloud) Joan:- Is th~t a letter from Tommy? Jane:- Umhmm! (Biting the apple and nodding her head.) Joan:- How is he getting along? Does he still like the ,army? Jane:- He's okay; of course, he's 10ne,some.... .. ~Jor lme . .Just listen to what hesays,]oan. ,~Readingfr{)m 7Ietter) "(Gosh, .Janie, II stillcaIi't believe'that you reallyrdort't care to run around 'with eR lot of other 'fellows while I'm away. 'I getp1l'etty lonesome, and it makes me feel loads better to know that 'you're probably eating fudge ' and pop corn, and thinking 'of 'me:" I{Putting the letter down) Isn't that sweet? IH e Ire ally :knows : my weakness for fudge and pop corn. Hey, thaes an idea! Tm going to make some. (Jane gets up and, reading the letter, ,walks over to the divan, lies down, and looks rat ':1lommy~s Jpicture. ,The ,phone ,rings but sheidoesn't.,notice 20 FIORETTI Joan:- (Answering the phone) Hello. Yes, this is Carrolls'. Miss Jane or Miss Joan? Last week at the Civic Theatre ........ that's Jane. Just a moment. Telephone for you, Janie. Jane:---", Huh? Oh, telephone. Thanks! (Goes to the phone, carrying the picture with her) Hello. Yes,this is she. Oh, yes, Donald, of course I remember. I'm fine, thank you .......... What.. .......... tonight? (Forgetting the picture she allows it to sliP from her hands, and it falls to the floor and breaks) OH! Oh, that noise? It was Tomm ................ I mean, oh nothing! What were you saying? Tonight. Yes, yes, I'd like to. About seven-thirty. Fine. Goodbye. (Hanging up the phone and forgetting about the picture, she dances about the room.) Joan, Joan, guess what! You remember the fellow I told you I met last week at the Workshop Meeting........ the one that just joined the Civic .... .... you know, Donald Norris. Well, he's really good looking, and all the girls simply fell for him, and we were all wondering who he'd date first, and he asked me for tonight! Oh, glory, isn't it wonderful? [ I II I i i ! I i i l' i I! ! I I I Joan:- Nice work, but I thought you weren't dating ' anyone while Tommy was gone. . Jane:-- Oh, this isn't really a date. And anyway, Tommy wouldn't mind just this once. He's just new in the Civic, and how do you suppose he'd feel if he were refused by the first girl he tried to date. Gosh, I couldn't be that impolite could I? Joan:- Humph! Oh, Janie! (as Jane starts for the door) you'd better clean up Tommy (indicating the picture) before you start on Donald. (Jane looks a bit guilty, but starts to sing as she picks up the picture and glass.) Jane:- Joan, may I wear your dark blue silk tonight? Joan:- My new one! You may not. Jane:- But, Joadie, this is special. Please. Joan:- I haven't worn it yet. What's wrong with your new one? Jane:- I wore it last night and spilt a coke on it. Please, Joan, let me wear yours. JUST WON DATE 21 Joan:- Nope, sorry. Anyway, I don't think yo~ should have dates and tell Tommy that you're riot having any. Jane:- Oh, what's one date! Never mind, I'll wear one of my own dresses. Uane leaves the room. Joan sits quietly for a few moments. The door bell rings and she goes to answer it.) Joan:- (In hall) Yes. Voice:- (Off stage) Western Union. Telegram for Miss Joan Carrolls. Sign here please. Joan:- Thank you. (Door closes and she returns to stage) . Jane. Telegram for you. Uane enters, takes the telegram, and , tears it open.) Jane:~ Oh, Joan, Tommy has a furlough and he'll be h~re tonight. About eight o'clock. Isn't it grand? I'm just dying . to see him! , Joan:- Very nice. I'll be glad to see Tommy, too. But you have one date for tonight? . Jane:- A date? Gosh, yes! With Donald Norris. What on earth will I do? J oan:- Break the date. Jane:- But I couldn't do that. I've got to see both of them. 'Oh, gosh! Joan:- Wen, you could have a nice, cozy reunion with both.of them in here; Or you could keep Tommy occupied with fudge and pop corn in the kitchen and keep Donald in the garden. Or perhaps you could ask Tommy to go .............. Jane:- Will you ke~p quiet, and let me think? Wait a minute! What did you say about keeping Tommy in the kitchen and Donald in the garden? That's it, Joan! You can help me and it'll work out swell. Joan:- Oh, no, you don't! Count me out of any of your schemes; I won't help. Jane:- Please, Joan, listen. This is keen. When Donald comes, you be upstairs, and I'll let him in; and then I'll come don~t I 22 FIORETTI up, and you come and take him out in the garden. When Tommy comes, I'll let him in and then I'll go upstairs and turn ,on the light, and you come in the back way, and then you come down to Tommy, and I'll go out to Donald. Do you see what I mean? Joan:- I see exactly what you don't mean. And the answer is still NO. Jane:- Oh, gosh, I thought you were a good sport. Just think of the fun, if we dressed alike no one would ever know. Donald doesn't know me well enough, and Tommy has been gone so long that.. .... ... .... . Joan:- No, no, no! Jane:- Look, you wouldn't have to stay with Donald all evening, we'll swit<;h back and forth. Hey, that would really be fun. Let's prove that we really are twins that no one knows apart. Joan:- Oh, Jane, don't try to talk me into it. And anyway, what dresses would we wear? J ane:- What a question! You know we buy most all of our dresses together, and we always get the same kind. (The door bell rings and Jane looks at her watch.) J ane:- Good heavens, Joan, there's Donald now. What are we going to do? Joan:- Heaven help us, I don't know. Jane:- We'll simply have to carry out that plan, now. You tear upstairs and jump into your dress like this. I'll let Donald in, and then I'll come up and you can have ' him. (Bell rings again as Joan exits right and Jane left.) Jane:- Hello, Donald. Won't you come in? Donald:- Good evening, Jane. How are you? (Jane and Donald enter the room.) J ane:- Sit down, won't you? I'll try to get some music on the radio . . Donald:- There should be a concert on WFBM at 7:45. Would you care to go dancing or take in a movie? JUST WON DATE 23 Jane:- Later perhaps, but not right now. (Looks at her watch) I'll tell you what let's do, I'll run upstairs and get a scarf, and then I'll show you the garden. How's that? Donald:- That's a grand idea. Have you seen the moon? It's full tonight. Jane:- No ............ no, I haven't seen it yet. I'll be down in a moment. (Jane exits and Donald picks up a magazine. Joan enters the doorway, and stands quietly for a moment. She starts out of the room, but then deciding against running away, she speaks.) -Joan:- Have you found something interesting? Donald:- Yes, rather. I was just reading this resume of Hamlet by Tillinghost. It's certainly different, have you read it? /' Joan:- Yes, I've read it. By the way, have you ever heard Barrymore's rendition of the soliloquy? Donald:- No, do you have it? . Joan:- Umhmm. I'll put itdn. (She goes to the phonograph, and having selected the record, places it on the machine.) Donald:- I didn't have any idea that you were really so interested in this sort of. thing. Joan:- You didn't? Why? Donald:- Don't .get angry, please, but the other night when I first met you, I thought you were just a trifle giddy. I've changed my mind so much.in these last few minutes. (Donald is seated with his back to the hall door. Jane quietly opens the door and motions for Joan to go into the garden. , Joan looks at her watch and suddenly turns off the record.) Donald:- What's the matter? Joan:- It's nearly seven-thirty, we've got to get out of here. Donald:- We've got to get out? Joan:- Yes, so Tomm ............ I mean ... :........ a ............ oh, I want to show you the garden, and soon it will be too dark to see the flowers. . 24 FIORETTI Donald:- Well, all right, but I would like to hear the rest of that record before we go dancing. Joan:- Dancing? Are we going dancing? Donald:- You said you might like to, later in the evening. Joan:- Oh, did I? Donald:- Yes, don't you' remember? Joan:- No .............. yes .............. yes, I remember. Let's go out now, shall we? (The door bell rings) Shall we go out into the garden now? Donald:- Don't you want to answer the door first? Joan:- No, Jane will answer it.. .......... .... ,I mean ......:........ . a ................ my sister Joan will answer it. Shall we go out? Donald:- Yes. What did you do with your scarf? Joan:- My scarf? Donald:- Yes, you went upstairs to get it. (The door bell rings again, and Jane starts to enter the room, but she quickly withdraws.) Joan:- I don't need the scarf now. Let's go. UQ~an and Donald exit and Jane enters immediately from the -other room. She looks around the room, and then goes to the front door.) Jane:~ (Off stage) Oh, Tommy, it's grand to see you. You look wonderful. . 'Tommy:- Janie! Gosh, it's swell to be back. Let's go in and let me sit and look at you aU evening. Do you want to go to a show, or dancing, or drivi~g, ?T- something? Jane:~ No, Tommy. I'd much rath~r just sit here and talk. . Tommy:- I was hoping you'd say that. Everything looks so familiar. How's the garden doing? Let's walk out and see it. (As he speaks he begins to opere the garden doors. Jane gets up and rushing over closes the doors and stands in . front of them.) . Jane:- No, Tommy, we can't go out t4at way! JUST WON DATE 25 Tommy:- (Thinking it's a joke) Why not? J ane:- Well, 'cause then you'd see them, and then ........... . I mean ............ !. .. well ............ .... you see ................ 1. ............... Tommy:- (Beginning to suspect something) What have you done now, young lady? Jane:- Nothing! I just.. .............. a ................ I just planted some flowers by the walk, and I didn't want you to see them until we went around the front way. Tommy:- Oh, so that's all it was. You had me worried for awhile. We'll go out later and see them. Got any new records? (As he says this, he walks to the phonograph and takes off the record and replaces it with another.) Jane:--' Tommy, I want to run upstairs for a moment. I'll be right down. Tommy:- Okay, Janie, hurry though, 'cause I want to be with you as much as possible while I'm home. (Jane exits. Tommy wanders around the room and finally goes to the garden doors. Sounds of running feet can be heard.) Tommy:- I wonder if someone is in the garden. Hey, you! . (Calling out the, door) Joan:- Don't worry, Tommy, it's just me. Joan. Tommy:- Oh, okay. (In a few moments Joan comes in the side door.) Tommy:- It's about time you've come back. Do you want to go to the garden now? Joan:- Yes, if you want to. (She thoughtfully turns off a small table lamp, and they walk toward the hall door~) Tommy:- (Stopping Joan) Jane, why did you take off your necklace just now? Joan:- Necklace? What are you talking about? I haven't had any necklace on all evening. Tommy:- Of course you did. When I first came this evening, I was so glad 'cause I noticed that you had on that locket I gave you for your birthday, and you had it on until 26 FIORETTI you went upstairs, and now you don't have it on. Why not? Joan:- Well, Tommy, I didn't want to tell you this, but you see, when I just went upstairs, 1.. ............ a .............. I caught the necklace on my bracelet and it broke the chain. I hoped you didn't notice that I had had it on. . Tommy:- Oh,.I see. Well, look, supposing y~ou go get it, and perhaps I can fix it. Run along upstairs and bring it down. Joan:--- Well, look, let's .............. a .............. let's go look at the garden first, it will soon be too dark to see anything. Then later on you can fix the necklace. Hmmm? Tommy:- Well, okay, let's go look at your new flowers. (Joan and Tommy are just closing the door when the other door, the one to the garden, opens, and Jane and Donald enter.) Donald:- Will you play that record for me now? Jane:- Record? Oh, yes ................ let's see ........ :....... ,what did I do with it? Donald:- Why, you left it on the phonograph, remember? Jane:- Oh, of course, I did. Well, here it goes. (She turns on the phonograph, and a very fast orchestration begins to play.) Donald:~ What's the joke? , Jane:- Joke? What do you mean? Donald:- You ' know that wasn't the record we were playing while ago. I Jane:- That's right. I can't imagine what I was thinking , of. Well, now where did I put that record? (She starts going through the records ,very slowly.) Donald:- Here, I'll help you find it, but I know it was right on top'. (They begin looking through the .recprds, and suddenly voices qre heard from the. ,outside.) , JUST WON DATE , 27 Joan:- No, Tommy, really, I'd rather not, I'll make ...... ... . Tommy:- No, there isn't any sense in making any. Come on we'll run down to the drug store and buy som~. ' " Joan:- I'm really not in the mood for any pop corn now. No, Tommy, I don't want to go into the house. (Tommy and Joan enter the' room tlirough the garden ,doors. Tommy is pulling Joa:n by the hand, and laughing.) Tomrny:-(Seeing Jane and Donald) Hello, Joan, "HoW' are you? ' What have you been doing since I've been gone? ' . (When ,Tommy addresses Jane as Joan, Donald is thunder- ' struck.) Donald:- Wait a minute. Your name's Jane isn't it? Jane:- Yes, no.......... ...... well ................ a ............... . Tommy:- (Crossing over to Jane's side) You've got Jane's necklace on. Hey, you are Jane! Donald:- Of course she's Jane, I had a date with Jane for tonight. Tommy:- But, you had this necklace @n when you left me in tonight, and then you didn't have it on, and now you've got it on. What's it all about? I'm mixed up. Jane:- (Awkwardly) Well, you see, I got your telegram after Donald called this ~vening, and so I just wanted to see bo ........ ........ Joan:- You see, Donald, we just wanted to see if you'd really remember Jane, after that casual introduction at the Civic last week, and so Jane and I decided to change around and see if you'd suspect anything, and then she got a telegram from Tommy, after you talked to her, and we wondered if Tommy"would notice any difference if we'd change around, since it's been so long since he's seen either of us~ Well, we found out.' You fellows aren't angry, are you? FIORETTI 28 Tommy:- (Going to Jane and putting his arm around her) Well, it's okay since I won out and we're still together. Donald:- Well, since you're the girl I really like best, you're the one I want a date with, Jane. (Looking at Joan) No, it isn't Jane, is it? Joan:-- No, it's Joan. Tommy:- Hey, fell as, what do you say if we make sOlJle~ . fudge and pop corn? .". Trio:- Suits me. (They all exit through a side door.) WISTFUL NAOMI RANEY, '44 Violets Outside my window Growing. Heart-breaking Blue on~s begging to be plucked And brought to you. Sor~owing I pass them by And they Droop baby faces. No one has told them That This spring You are not here. 29 ODE TO A NUN MARY ROSE (TURNER) BUCKELE, '43 Hoosier .College Verse Entry 1940 Tell me, 0 muses what ye are saying in her heart That giyes her countenance an ethereal bliss? o sculptors of marble, who chisled this Masterpiece not of stone but ,of life? What magic artist limned that face! Not Raphael's brush could' give such grace! Philosophers' words grow blank and cold, , Leaving her secret strength untold. Venus herself must pale at the sight Of the love that is her light. My blundering words will never find ., The joy hidden In. thy soul sublime. It is a 'god of whom Thou speakest to me. This of eternity I know not; Let my pagan spirit warm , 19 the faith of thine. Let th~ song that sings, in thee Sing in me and halt the numbing pain. o short be the years until I see This god, the God, who sings in thee! , \ FIORETTI 30 Christmas Eve ANNE MEHN, '44 Night had descended early that December evening and a bevy of stars were already sending bright shafts of light down through the darkness. The pale moon strolled through the sky, stooping now and thep. through an occasional cloud. The air had grown quite chill and gently the palm leaves moved. Three men stood gazing into the night. Behind them lay their sleeping camp, before them, the vast expanse of sand. They had come from afar and the journey had been difficult and perilous. There was no cheery fireside to sit by, there were no loved-ones here to greet them. No happy . child's laugh broke the stillness of this night. Only sand and sky and an unknown destiny lay ahead. Yet they had come, for they possessed the courage to fulfill a great mission, to them a most sacred mission. Silently they stood, their eyes raised to the heavens, renewing in their hearts the solemn promise they had made. The stars seemed to grow brighter as if sending down a benediction of courage and cheer to the three men -in khaki- "somewhere in the Pacific." .1 / 31 Translations The charm of these odes lies in the accuracy with which they uncover the hidden meanings of classic poetry, no less than in their own poetic merit. TO PYRRHA (From the Carmina of Horace, Book I, Ode V) MARY JANE LANG, '41 What gracefulryouth in rose-decked bower Enhanced with perfume, courts thee, Pyrrha? For whom dost thou bind up thy hair In studied plainness? Alas, how often will he mourn Thy lack of faith, his changed fate, And wonder at the roughened course Caused by love's bliooness. He now enjoys thee, thinking still Thy golden charm is but for him, Nor knows he that the lack of guile Is his entirely. o wretched those who know thee not Yet drown themselves in beauty's sea. My dripping garments hung on high Bespeak my safety. T,O AUGUSTUS (From the Carmina of Horace, Book I, Ode XII) BETTY SPENCER, '41 What god or hero dost thou choose to praise o Clio, on the lyre or clear-toned flute? Whose name do playful echoes make resound On shady Helicon or on cool Pindus' top, Or Haemus', whence the forests blindly followed Singing Orpheus, with his mother's art Slowing the rapid lapse of rivers and swift winds, And leading listening oaks with singing strings? ) 32 FIORETTI What shall I sing in praise of him Who rules men's destinies and gods', Who rules the seas and land and hours? From him no greater god is born, Nor none like him or nearly so; 'Still, warlike Pallas holds the nearest place. Yet must I not forget thee, Liber, Nor thee, Dian', to monsters dread, Nor thee, Apollo, of unerring bow. And I shall speak of Hercules, and Leda's sons Renowned for skill in boxing and in horsemanship; When their white star shines forth to sailors, Angry waves down flow from cliffs, The winds die down, the storm-clouds flee, The threat'ning sea lies down to rest . . Next these shall I speak first of Romulus, The peaceful reign Pompilius brought, Of Tarquiri's rule, or Cato's noble death? Regulus, and men of Scaurus' kind, The great-souled Paul, Fabricius, With gratitude my muse shall sing. Strict discipline, a simple home prepared For battles great Camillus' kind and Curius, Marcellus' fame grows greater with the silent Lapse of time, as grows a tree; among the stars The Julian star outshines all others,. As the moon the lesser fires. o guide and fath~r of the human race, o Saturn's son, to you the fates have given Caesar's destiny. Long may you reign With only Caesar's glory near. If he now justly triumphs o'er the threat'ning Foe, or conquers distant Eastern shores, To thee alone, as second, may he rule The happy earth with his just sway; Thou, whose awful chariot doth shake Olympus; thou, who hurl'st thy thunderbolts Of wrath on sacrilegious crimes. 33 The Return of Deirdre NAOMI RANEY, '44 Delightful Irish fairy lore is here recaptured in the style of a native author. Once in the far off years when all the world was in its springtime and the very air was alive with happiness, there lived in the land of Glengarry a Woman known as Deirdre. She was as tall and slender as the lilies that grew by the lough, and her face was the fairest that men had ever seen. And all who knew her loved her, for her goodness and kindness were known the world over. Now Deirdre lived alone in a little Brown House just off the highway to Dublin, and many were the times that a waif or a vagabond would wander to her door and ask for a bit of work and a bite to eat. Out of the goodness of her great heart, Deirdre helped them and many were the songs that were sung of Deirdre the Compassionate . . One day there appeared at the door of the little Brown House, a waif, Mara, Child of Bitterness, and Deirdre, knowing that the child was alone in the world, sheltered and treated her as her own. For many years Mara lived under the roof of the little Brown House with Deirdre the Compassionate, and she was as fair as the first dewy rose of the springtime and her voice was as the song of the birds, but she was not so fair as Deirdre. Then in the heart of Mara, Child of Bitterness, there was sown the seed of envy and the seed flourished and grew until the heart of Mara was black and vile and the beautiful body of her was but a shell, hollow and empty. One day she turned upon Deirdre with the fury of a she-wolf and drove her from the little Brown House. But she did not live long because her fury was so great that she was consumed by it 34 FIORETTI and she died, a holocaust to her own desires. Then Deirdre, who had been wandering through the hills of Glengarry, returned to the little Brown House and for many years lived there, and her beauty and kindness were known the world over. But Deirdre disappeared one day and was never seen again and some of the old people say that she wanders the face of the earth, helping the poor and the unfortunate, inspiring the downtrodden. Once, during a Great War when the world seemed ready to consume itself out of its own fury, I heard a sennachie say, tt tTis me that's a'thinkin' that Mara is after drivin' Deirdre from the little Brown House again, but Deirdre will return." (In the style of Cathal O'Byrne.) ./ 35 Mono-Graphs Individual bits of creative writingvaried, colorf ul, thought-provoking. Book-Lure The little, antique book-store looked as though it had just stepped out of a Dickens' novel and imbedded itself on the quiet side street. The tinkling of the small brown bell above the door as I entered, helped to enhance the atmosphere. For a few moments I seemed to be alone, but suddenly from behind a counter popped a shiny head trimmed with white fringe beneath which were two twinkling marbles and a little red ball. This queer concoction of features approached me with a stiff yet springy step. Having exchanged greetings, I began to explain that I was an inveterate hoarder of booksbooks which had been tinged yellow with age or practically any kind that captured my fancy. The proprietor's warm and eager "Ja, Ja" loosened my tongue and I at once unraveled the story of my searches and even told him of a few treasured "first editions" I had unearthed in shops similar to this one. With an air of hospitality that was royal, he placed everything at my disposal and went back to his tasks, leaving me to browse and dally to my heart's content. A faint musty odor lingered in my nostrils, wholly unreproved. Books- large ones, small ones, thick ones, thin ones- confronted me , , BEATRICE HYNES, '46 I FIORETTI February Few people can see beauty in the cold February days. They speak of February as a grey, cheerless month. Today . looking from the library window I saw beauty in the scene before me. The bare trees looked like huge men reaching their arms to the sky. In the largest one was ' a baby squirrel, blissfully ignorant of the world about it. Soon it scampered after a leaf. The lake was partly frozen and edged with snow, an aftermath of last week's blizzard. The surrounding water was motionless, sparkling in the bit of. . winter sun. Through a blue haze, white birch trees could be seen on the opposite side. The field was brown and cold looking but in it all, the beauty of winter was striking. MARY JANE HERMANN, '46 Three Cheers For ..... . He is a tall, lean man, slightly past middle age. His rugged, weather beaten face with its finn set jaw reflects strength, determination, and wisdom. His greying Van Dyke beard will soon be silver and the wrinkles about his eyes are lines of kindness and benevolence. He is always around when needed and like most other men has a family to support. His family is made up of millions, but in spite of its hugeness he has done a magnificent job keeping them happy. He is always the first to step in to help the .oppressed and underprivileged, and wherever his high hat and striped pant's are seen people are assured of tqeir rights to happiness. Yes, he is the best AmericanOur Uncle Sam. JULIANA DILL HOFF, '46 MONo-GRAPHS 37 Silhouette She is alive, the college girl of today, very much alive. People of the world meet her in every walk' of life. Yes, she is outstanding in her own way- a very significant and individual way. She is sincere. That is why she speaks what she thinks. Her cheerfulness is a tradition. To her varied activities she brings an abundance of vitality. The touchstone of her success in enterprise is reliability. Dominant in her character is the note of determination to be helpful to' all those ' with whom she may come into contact. Since , she possesses a strong faith, she has no room in her heart for fear. In the struggle of life-- a struggle she has in common with her fellowmen- she is unafraid. Bewildered at "times, by the uncehain road ahead, she eagerly seeks the truth. She is learning today. Tomorrow she will be teaching others. Even now her life is a beacon of inspiration to many, who have had her dreams, but who have 'not been so fortunate as she in making their dreams a reality. To her forefathers she is grateful for the way of life they have left her- a bequest they fought and died for. That same way of life she is no~ fighting to maintain. Silhouetted in the breeze, her hair blowing, her smile childlike but r~flecting fine intellect and high courage, she expresses the fulness of life tha~ is hers. Such is' the ideal American college girl of today, the woman and leader of tomorrow, and a joy to the world forever. MARY NOONAN, '46 38 FIORETTI MIRACLE SISTER M. MICHAELA, '43 ' Original epilogue to the Fioretti story, The Wolf of Gubbio A beast of fierce and 'frightful mien Was Gubbio's wolf Until the saintly FranCis' love A lamb disclosed. Grim passions' fire our souls can know, And deep despair. Fair image of the Crucified They soon deface Unless we fly to Calvary's heights Where He, the Lamb, Our wolfish leaning takes, and leaves us Other Christs. 39 Responsibili ty HAVE YOU ACCEPTED YOURS? DORIS ANN BECKER, '42 Our Sunday Visitor, October 27, 1940. Straight from the shoulder comes this frank plea for active patriotism. Do you know that two of the most valuable privileges of an American citizen are the right to vote and the right to hold f . public office? Have you reacted to this knowledge with interest, enthusiasm, and action? Perhaps you have shrugged your shoulders indifferently and thought: HWhat difference does it make whether I vote or not? Somebody will be elected without my vote. I shall be busy . election day." .............. .... Totalitarianism threatens to encircle the whole world, openly in Europe and Asia and, insidiously in the Americas. War clouds have blacked out normal life in most of the world ...... ..... .. .... . Young men and women of America, you can do your part to stem the tide of dictatorship and war by accepting seriously your responsibility as citizens 0\ the United States of America. It is not only your-civic duty but also your Christian duty to help in the preservation of the democratic ideal of government. You may never have the opportunity to show your patriotism and love for your country by a spectacular deed, but you can show it simply and effectively by exercising your constitutional rights. One of your constitutional rights is the privilege of holding public office. Of course, we know that as the youth of America you are not of age to hold office except in unusual cases. However, your youth is to your advantage. You can strengthen your character by following the mandates of Christ and the Church, by self-denial and self-control. You can 40 FIORETTI prepare yourself by study and observation. You can develop those abilities and aptitudes that are essential to succes in public office. Then, if and when you are offered a public office by the people, you will be worthy of the trust placed upon you .................. . Now, everyone cannot hold ' office- that privilege is restricted to a few- but every citizen can vote if he fulfills certain requirements. By voting one elects those who are to decide the future of the country. The men and women who run the government are the men and women who formulate the laws and policies that shape the destiny of the United States. If you elect ambitious and unscrupulous politicians, the country will be threatened with social and economic failure. You will be in danger of losing your most cherished liberties -freedom of religion, freedom of speech, and freedom peaceably to assemble. Elect men of unflinching integrity, men who love the principles upon which the government of the United States was founded. How can you become an intelligent voter? The answer to this is quite simple. Build a firm foundation of general knowledge both of historical events and of contemporary ' events.................... Study and carefully analyze all sides of governmental issues in the light of this kn9wledge and draw a conclusion. Let your final decision be based always on a Catholic or Christian philosophy, that is, one permeated with a love of right and justice as taught by Christ through His Commandments and His Church. Once you have forned an opinion through your own careful reasoning do not be swayed by propaganda. Yes, change your convictions if by your reasoning you realize that you have come to an erroneous or false conclusion, but do not let the unscrupulous politician or uninformed individual influence your decision . .... .............. Formulate your opinions and vote Now or some day the government may formulate your opinions for you and . tell you how to vote Then. 41 SANCTISSIMAE TRINITATI BETTY SPENCER, '41 God, Truth unutterable, Goodness incomprehensible, Beauty inexpressible, Infinity. How shall we Praise and adore Adequately The Ineffable? _ We, Multifarious potency, Circumscribed activity, Depending For each breath of being On pure Act. To utter The Ineffable, What is better Than a wordless song? Alleluia, Alleluia! a Thou Whose Essence is To Be, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, Bending low to Thee we raise Our Alleluia hymn of praise. 42 FIORETTI ODE TO SLEEP ANNA E. MEHN, '44 American Poet Laureate Entry 1942 Sleep, Sleep, enchanting Sleep, o cast thy spell upon my heart, Soothe.thou the worry that is there, Strength and new hope to me impart. o be thou in this troubled world, As oasis in desert land;Into a world of calm content, Lead me with magic hand. o kiss me with "thy muted lips, And let me dream some wondrous thing; Make me oblivious of my woes, Surcease and rest in anguish bring. Sleep, Sleep, mysterious Sleep, Thy spell o'er me is cast; Thou art tranquillity serene, o let me sleep, sleep fast. J 43 BOOK REVIEW George Washington Carver BY RACKHAM HOLT In 1942 there came from the pen of a master literary artist of the negro race an autobiog-raphy, a classic ' its field. For those who read to learn, Dark Symphony has -a soul-stirritlg message. That same' message, this time in the guise of science, comes to America in the story of George Washington Carver by Rackham Holt. Born of ex-slaves about 1864 near Diamond Grove, Missouri, and snatched by raiders from the arms of his mother, George was rescued and given a home by Mr. and Mrs. Moses Ca~er, kindly German immigrants. At the age of ten, led by an unquenchable thirst for knowledge, he left his foster home to attend school. Despite rebuffs, delicate health, and the constant toil for a livelihood, he succeeded in completing his grammar school education and was graduated from high school in Minneapolis, Kansas. Rejected at Highland College, he was admitted to Simpson College in Indianola, Iowa, where he achie.ved signal honor. At Iowa State College of Agriculture, in Ames, he became an expert in the things of the soil, earning the bachelor and master degrees in science. The post of assistant botanist was then conferred upon him. In 1896, yielding to the entreaties of Booker T. Washington, Carver joined the faculty of Tuskegee Institute, Alabama, in. the capacity of research worker and professor. Pipettes from reeds,a mortar from a cracked china bowl, a classroom bell from a horse-shoe-- these typify the equipment his ingenuity devised. In his laboratory, ~~God's little workshop" he called it, nothing was ever thrown out. In quick succession and seemingly unending number and variety came Professor Carver's discoveries and inventions. Synthetic marble from palmetto roots and wood shavings, in 44 ~,. , FIORETTI shoe-polish from sweet potatoes, dyes, including the historic Egyptian royal purple, from ordinary clay, are typical. The peanut, however, was his greatest single contribution to the South. Not only did its growing enrich the soil and thus off-set the rui,nous effects of the one-crop system, but, under his deft fingers and keen intelligence, it yielded over one-hundred marketable commodities including axle grease, shaving cream, and mixed pickles. Even a medicinal remedy for a disease appearing among the peanut growers' was forthcoming. The motive that more than any other seemed to compel him to ceaseless study and investigation was the burning desire to . aid his people. That he definitely raised their earning capacity and their standard of living is proved by his title, "savior of the Negro." As a final contribution to his race, Dr. Carver established the Carver foundation, a research laboratory for pr,omising young negro chemi~ts. His services, however, were freely given to all. In the spirit of genuine altruism, Carver refused remunerations and did not even apply for patents. With heroic selflessness, he sacrificed a career in the fine arts; for the more ' helpful science of agric~lture. _ Carver's greatest claim to distinction, is the sincere .,.humility with which he referred all his success to God. Roaming in the woods or toiling in his workshop, he communed with "Mr. Creator." His death in January, 1943, marked the passing of a truly great American. JOAN DUFFIN, '45  ...

... c5f[arian College Indianapolis, Indiana j)-t~)I p~M""7'-"" ~~v~7-t.~ THE FIORETTI AN ANTHOLOGY OF MARIAN COLLEGE PROSE AND VERSE VOLUME NINE D Marian College Indianapolis, Indiana , 1951-1952 I I lw.fIi'c,u WORLD BROTHERHOOD THROUGH CHRIST To CHRIST KING OF THE WORLD this volume is lovingly dedicated The Staff Editor MARY WASSEL Associate Editor RITA SHERIDAN Assistant Editors P A UUNE SIEFERT BARBARA REDER RITA MCCANN MARY EVELYN MALONEY Art MARTA KILCZER MARIE DIEMER Busin,ess Managers MARIANELA U RR UTlA JANE BRADY JUANA PHELPS 4 Contents Page: Editorials _____ ____ ____ ___ _______ ____ _________ _____ _________ ___ ____ __ ___ .____ ___ _____ _______ _____ ___ __________ 7, 8 Perfect Visi01L ___________________________ ____ _____ __loyce Ann Edwards '5 3 __~ -------- - 9 The Fourth Estate _____ ________________ _______ _____ .Betty Kennedy ' 52 __ __ ________ ________ 10 The Eucharist and World Peace____ ________ Doris Stocky '55 __ _________ _____ ________ 11 An Auxiliary Language_________________________ Rita Sheridan '53 ________ __ ___ ____ __ ___ 12 A World of N eighbors.. ________ _______ __ ___ __ __ .Irma Klett '5 L __________________________ 13 The Olympic Games ______ ____ ______ _______ ___ ___ _Rita McCann '5 L ______ __ _______ __ ___ 14 Prejudice U prooted ________ ____ _______ ____ ___ ___ __-loyce Ann Edwards '53 _____ ___ ____ 16 Globe Trotting Cardinal ___ ___ _______ ___ _____ __ Suzann Reith '52 __ ______ ________ ________ 18 A Unit ed H emisphere______ ___ ___ _______ ____ _____ Rachel West '54 __ ______ __ _______ _______ 19 ,Is Science to Blame? ___ ______ ____ ___ ____________ ___ Mary Lu Method '53 __ __ __ _____ _____ 21 Faith and Patience in World Gover111nenL ______ __ _____ __ ______ M .ry Evelyn Maloney '55. _____ . __ _ 22 Mankind's Universal Book.________ ___ __________ ~hry Wassel '52 ________ __ _____ ____ ____ _ 24 If Y ou Could Do It, Sa Can L ___ ________ Dolores Feighner '54 ____ ____ __ ____ ____ 26 International Understanding Throu.gh Music __ __ ________ ______ ___ ______ Jrma Klett '55 ____________________________ 29 Hll1nan Rights __ _____ __ _----- ---- ---- --- -- -----------Ann McCarthy '52 __________ __________ To Our Lady of Fatima ____________ ___ ________ __ Pauline Siefert '54 ___ ____ ________ ___ ____ World Peace by a Divine Guarantee __ ___ _luana Phelps '55 ______ __ ____ __ ______ ____ In God W e Trust __ ____ ________ ___ __ _______ __ __ _____ Helen Hoffman '5 L ____ __ ____ ____ ____ A Garden of N atio11S ____ _____ ____ ____ ____ __ _____ _Barbara Morrissey '5 L ______________ 31 32 33 34 36 Brotherhood of Man Under the Fatherhood of God _____ ____ ___ ___ ______ ___ .Paulin ~ Laraway '55 ___ ___ ___ _________ 37 Unesco ______ ____ ____ ____ ___________ __________ ________ __ __Barbara Reder '52__ ______ ______________ 38 Carcinogenic Politics _________ ___________________ _Joyce Ann Edwards '5 L ________ __ 39 Teach Ye All Nations ___ ___ __ ____ ______________ __Marjorie Hercules '54 ____ ____ __ __ ____ 41 A N ew ColumbuL ___ ____ ____ _____ ________________ Barbara Reder '52 _________ ______ __ ____ _ 44 Book Reviews "Eugenio Pacelli: Pope of Peace" __.Mary Schuck '52 __ ______________________ 47 "House on the Sands" ________ _________ _Marie Martino '53 ___ _______ ____ ___ __ ___ 48 "T he Uprooted" _______ _______ ___ _______ __ __.Mary Evelyn Maloney , 55 __ ______ 49 "Three Christopher Book.s" _________ __Suzann Reith '52 ___ ___________________ __ 50 Patrons ______ ______ ___ __________ _____________ ___ ____ __ __ _________ ___ _______ _____ ______ _____________ ______ __ __ 52 111 doing all we can to bring about the re-establishment of Christ's kingdom, we will be working most effectively toward a lasting peace. -Pius Xl 6 EDITORIALS In the present conflict between the East and the West, which in many respects has already become a third world war, the only hope for peace seems to be the discovery of a "third force" which would unite into one party the good of the two antagonistic worlds. There is, however, much confusion as to what this "third force" must be. Gilbert K. Chesterton once said that the difficulty of the Puritan was that he was too logical; he denied the existence of the Divine Mercy because he could find no room for the mercy of God in his logic. So, too, the modern communists are slaves to their own logic; they deny the existence of liberty and faith and the supernatural because these do not fit into their logic. Against such logic there are many arguments, but there is only one satisfying answer and that is faith. The "third force" in the modern division of the world must be religion. Only by a return to religion can the world escape the relentless logic that leads to a terrible threatening conflict. There are influences abroad even in our own country whose main purpose is to eliminate from our society those Christian truths which have formed, strengthened, and developed the very fabric ,,{ nur cul- tural heritage. Religion is being either pushed into the background, or eliminated wherever possible, under the misleading guise of neutralism. Unfortunately, supersonic planes and atomic power seem more pow- . erful than prayer, but prayer based on faith has defied, and will continue to defy, material power. Faith in the spiritual and supernatural lives unquenchably in the hearts and minds of millions of men in all parts of the world. \Ve must at all times extend the aid of prayers, against which there are no na tiona I or racial boundaries, to those who are separated from external communications with the Church. To all free men there is a definite call to recognize at all times and in all places and in all persons the obligations of social justice and Christian charity and to be living members of the Mystical Body of Christ. To all free men there is a definite warning to avoid the false security offered by a policy of religious neutralism. Religion alone crosses the boundaries which divide the world into two opposing camps. No man is excluded from its invitation atheist, pagan, Jew, heretic and Christian on either side of the Iron Curtain-all are recognized III 7 Christ as having that human and spiritual dignity that contradicts governmental suppression or selfish persecution. For the individuals in Russia, the impoverished Chinese, the imprisoned and enslaved captive, as well as for the more fortu- nate American citizen, there is only one real solution of the Cold War, a real "third force" capable of resolving the terrible division in the modern world, and that force is RELIGION. The problem which requires serious consideration today is that of prejudice. Who of us has not frequently met this hydra-headed monster, which rears its ugly head, now in the form of race hatred, again as religious bigotry or antagonism because of nationality or economic status? him? Don't deceive yourself; it can't be done. ' The term prejudice literally means a pre-judgment, an evaluation made before all the pertinent facts have been collected. A prejudice involves a refusal to look at all the facts and is, therefore, lrntional. What is the ' remedy for all these destructive attitudes? If one analyzes the saying, "Prejudice is the child of Ignorance," the answer seems to be education. Man is not born with prejudices; it is human nature to love and to want to be loved. Prejudices, the enemies of peaceful harmony, then must be the result of something lacking in one's education. That something is a lack of knowledge and understanding of other countries and their people or the lack of the building up of right attitudes, attitudes which are measured against Christian social principles. Did you realize tha t you were acting irrationally when you judged a person by his na tionali ty, the slant of his eyes, the color of his skin, and the way he talks? A person is what he is regardless of such incidentals. One should judge a man for himself and not by the yardstick of creed, race, or color. The essence of democratic human relations is respect for the individual worth and dignity. Can you love someone without knowing him? No! How then can you hate a person without knowing -Mary Wassel In these days when we are constantly speaking in terms of international relations, we are encountering international as well as personal prejudices. World peace and world order cannot be maintained if these prejudices are not uprooted. Educate yourself! Know your neighbor! Know your national and international brothers! Live on Brotherhood Lane! -Rita McCann Perfect Vision The vision of the soul must wider be Than keenest vision of the strongest eye. It needs must stretch beyond the farthest sea And reach to heaven past the darkest sky. The human eye sees colors in the skin Of white and negro, Indian, Chinese, And its perceptions fool the soul within, Making so many peoples out of these. The soul with wisdom filled will cast away ; Such narrow judgments ere they well have come, And piercing deep beyond the eye's short range, Will find a soul alike in everyone. -Joyce Ann Edwards 9 by The much talked of "modern age," in which the limelight is shared by the scientist, militarist, and statesman, has brought men, reluctantly or willingly, closer together. Today the French peasant is no longer a stranger to the American farmer, nor are conferences in England unknown to the Puerto Rican public. BETTY KENNEDY With the world traveling at such a rapid pace, the danger of misunderstanding and misinterpreting the news is inevitable. The Pennsylvania coal miner must depend on the well-trained journalists to guide him in correct thinking. Consuming facts and figures is not enough. A conclusion must be reached. The United Nations, the mother of international brotherhood, recognizes the importance of the press. In 1948, she organized a sub-commission on freedom of information and the press. Since then, she h as patiently borne the controversy over just how free the press should be. The U.N. recognizes that the literate one-tenth of the world population, upon whose actions rest the destinies of nations, is largely influenced by what it reads. It is for this reason that the press must impart principle. The Catholic press, ever guided by Christian social principle, can lead the world press. With man's eternal goal in mind, it expounds theories based on sound doctrine and good philosophy. The modern world press can take as its prayer-" 'Cleanse my heart and my lips, 0 Almighty God' ... and my pen." The power of the press has been at once a cause and an effect of this close relationship. Through the press and its powerful contemporary media, the radio and television, the eyes and ears of the world have been extended; but the world itself has become smaller. A Pennsylvania coal miner can, in thirty minutes, gain a summary of happenings covering twenty-four hours and spanning thousands of miles. And because of this closer relationship of man, the influence of the press is more widespread. Its responsibility has become greater. It is no longer enough to say the function of the press is to inform, to present the truth. The moclern press must interpret, and interpret correctly, for its readers. Further, the modern press must instill Christian principle. 10 by Barcelona, Spain, has had the privilege of being host to the 35th International Eucharistic Congress from May 26 to June 1 of this year. In this city, which was one time the capital of the Red regime in Spain, public honor and adoration were given to our Eucharistic King. The second last gathering of this kind was held at Budapest, Hungary, in 1938, when the world atmosphere was much the same as today. Then too the great fear of the world was war. It was Hitler threatening world peace. Today it is Stalin. Had it not been for World War II several Eucharistic Congresses would have been held since 1938. Other world congresses, however, have been held since that time. Their principal topic for discussion was war and the attainment of peace, but seldom was there mentioned the name of God. Unlike these congresses, the congress held in Barcelona, had for its theme, DORIS STOCKY "The Eucharist and Peace." Problems of family peace, social and international peace, and Church unity were topics discussed at the general meetings and study sessions. Since Christ is the King of the World and the Prince of Peace He should not be excluded when means for peace are being discussed. The Roman Catholic Church maintains that we must think in terms of in terna tiona 1 understanding in order to dispel the evils of greed, hate and fear. She knows that it is only in Christ and through Christ that the people of the world can find peace, security, and love. The thousands of people who attended the Eucharistic Congress at Barcelona came from all corners of the earth. They represented all races and nationalities, thus proving the universality of the Roman Ca tholic Church. In the presence of the King of Kings in the Blessed Sacrament all were united in praising Him and offering their petitions to Him for world peace. 11 by RITA SHERIDAN aspirations. In order that there might be a complete understanding among all peoples of the globe, a universal language would be desirable. For many years, people have been advQcating a universal language. Such advocacy has gained new importance throughout the world since radio makes it possible to communicate so quickly with far away places. The term international language is generally used to denote a second, or auxiliary language for international use. Formerly the universal language was the language of the conqueror. The modern world, however, tends to favor the adoption of some new linguistic medium, because it has been found that such a medium is easy to use and because it is inoffensive to national pride. Many international languages have been tried, but most of them have failed in their attempt to satisfy all nations; however, Esperanto has had considerable success. This international language was first suggested in 1887 by Dr. Zamenhof, a Russian physician. Small progress was made in the first ten years but it finally took root in Russia and spread to Norway and Sweden. France was greatly interested and became a center from which it spread to other European nations. Courses in Esperanto are This is the age of internationalism! Every day science finds a new way of surpassing national boundaries and national ambitions; however, with so many new problems arising, there must be some way to create a better international understanding. There is no common language by which to convey thoughts, thoughts that bring about an understanding that is essential in preventing wars. Other means of communication, such as radio and telephone, have received .world wide recognition; .why then should not a common language be likewise recognized? Language is the most important means of communication and should be considered as such in our search for international understanding. People with no common language remain mostly strangers to one another. Never before in world history has it been so important that people with common ideals and aspirations should be able to communicate with one another through a common language. If we ,vere to have an international language, which one should it be-English, French, Spanish, Italian, German, Russian? In learning a foreign language, an understanding of the mentality of the nation that speaks it should be obtained as well as an appreciation of its people's viewpoints, ideals, and 12 now being offered in many schools all over the world and every day more books, textbooks as well as others, are being translated into Esperan to. Millions of p e 0 pIe throughout the world already have learned Esperanto in anticipation of the world brotherhood movement. The chief purpose of the international auxiliary language is not to take the place of the historical and national tongues, but to preserve their very character. A language begins to disintegrate when it is imposed upon men of an alien tradition. Nations today are not willing to give up their mother tongue for an auxiliary language which has been created or invented just for a means of international intercourse. Their national pride is too great to accept a language which has never entailed the lives and traditions of their ancestors. An international language used as a means of common expression among delegates representing various countries in congresses would be a great aid to international understanding. But a "created" language, to be used as a means of popular intercourse among all the nations and peoples of the globe, could be no more than a secondary or auxiliary language to those who speak a mother tongue. 1\ World of Neighbors Nations of the world, With your flags unfurled, Stretch forth a friendly hand To every neighboring land. -Irma Klett 13 by RITA MCCANN In this so-called Atomic Age, when the free nations of the world are being brought together by the threat to their very existence, the hope for a successful and lasting peace must be founded on a better international understanding. The rrincipal function of the UN is to Cl eate a great moral force which bring about more friendly ret;)t:ions among nations. It is because of this great international effort that the Olympic Games, which occur this year, have a greater significance than ever before. These games are undoubtedly one of the world's greatest practicing forms of in tern:l tionalism. The Olympic Games date back to remote antiquity, prior to the commencement of the historical era in Greece. Our conception of the Olympic Games differs somewhat from that of the ancient Greeks. The "Great Olympic Game" was a general name given one of the four great national festivals of Greece. The Greeks attribute the origin of this game to a divine source. The game was celebrated on the plain of Olympia, a valley lying in the middle of ancien t lis in the western part of Peloponnesus. The festival was a quadrennial one; the pcri::>d ebpsing between the two celebrations was called an Olympiad. Only Greeks of pure descent were allowed to participate, but when the Romans conquered Greece, they also took part in the contests. \Vomen were excluded. For the first thirteen Olympiads there was only one contest, a foot race. In the course of time, the number of contests increased to twenty-four. The prize awarded to the victor was merely a garland of wild olive, but the honor of gaining such a prize was so highly esteemed that a victor in the Olympic Games was regarded as bringing honor not only to himself but also to his family and even to the city and state to which he belonged. wm These ancient games died out during the fourth ventury A.D. and were not revived until 1896 when the first of a new series, the Modern Olympic Games, was played at Athens. Baron de Coubertin was the apostle of the Modern Olympic Games. While enrolled in a Jesuit school in Paris during the FrancoPrussian War, he had seen his beloved France crushed. This developed a hate of war in Baron de Coubertin. What could be done to promote the ideal of friendly competition among all races of the globe? His answer was, "to revive athletics." He would revive the 14 ancient Olympic Games on a worldwide basis. they saw individuals who, although different in some ways, were human and basically the same as they. Soon after the first series of games, preparations were made for the second series to be held in Paris in 1900. Thus began our Modern Olympic Games. In time they came to be governed by the International Olympic Committee which drew up documents providing for membership, administration, and congresses. Subsequently, champions vied for the O:ympic trophies in the following countries: St. Louis, 1904; Athens, 1906; London, 1908; Stockholm, 1912 ; Antwerp, 192 0 ; Paris, 1924; Amsterdam, 1928; Los Angeles, 1932; Berlin, 1936; London, 1948; Helsinki, Finland, 1952. The spirit of the Olympics can well be summed up in this anonymous poem: "To set the cause above renown, To love the game beyond the prize, To honOl', as you strike him down, The foe that comes with fearless eyes. To count the life of battle good, And dear the land that gave Y0lt birth, And dearer yet the Brotherhood, That binds the brave of all the Earth." Will the Modern Olympic Games carry forward into the future the torch of world fraternity, the philosophy of the poem? The first Modern Olympic Games were inaugurated April 6, 1896. Many features of the ancient procedures were kept intact except for a few modern modifications. Teams from England, France, Germany, Denmark, Hungary, Switzerland, and the United States participated. Some teams were officially sent, others came unofficially. The unofficial team from the United States was composed of nine men selected by the Boston Athletic Association and two other men who went to Athens on their own initiative. Crowned with the olive wreath of victory as bands played the Star Spangled Banner and the American flag was raised, James B. Connolly, as winner of the first event, became the first of modern Olympic champions. The United States succeeded in capturing nine of the fourteen events. Here at Athens, two thousand six hundred seventy-two years after the first games were held at ancient Olympia, men gathered to take- part in various events and at their conclusion either be honored or give honor. Although the contestants differed in appearance, in tongue, in social, political, religious, and economic life-all spoke the same language, a language of understanding. Looking at each other 15 by JOYCE ANN EDWARDS have separate heavens for the several races in order to avoid riots?" I had just dropped in for a friendly visit with my Un c I e George, an old, good-natured man, good as the years are long except for one environmental imperfection that those long years had not managed to erase. He had grown up in the days of the Ku-Klux-Klan and, consequently, felt that the only good Negro was the one still in the African jungles. "Well, I hadn't considered," he mumbled weakening, "you have to admit, though, that those Negroes and Chinese are a crafty, lazy lot. And the Indians, well, they may work, but they surely are sneaky." "How many Indians or Chinese did you ever know, or how many Negroes did you ever really take the trouble to know, for that matter? Your ideas of them are based on passing looks or on hearsay, aren't they ? Would you believe it if the Russians started telling us our democracy was no good because it allowed racial freedom, even though you are prejudiced? The basketball season being at its peak, our conversation naturally tended toward this sport and the tourney in progress. "I hope Centerville wins tonight," Uncle George said as a me ans of torment. "They won't, you know," I assured him. "Our team is tops this year." "Could you say," I continued, "that no white man was ever crafty or lazy? And again, consider the white man who lies in the sun to get tanned. How do you suppose we'd look after a few hundred years of working in the tropics? "No, I'm all for Centerville. Not a Nigger on their squad. Your fellows ought to be shot for playing with those four Niggers, and the school for allowing it." "Did you ever see a Negro refuse to fight for his country-his country that enslaved him and has now left him poor, often without educational opportunities and a square chance to show his worth?" "They say God doesn't see colors, Uncle George. They all affect His eyes in the same way. At least He doesn't see them sensually as we do, only intellectually. Do you suppose men's souls are colored when they come before Him, that is, other >tbn by the common blackness of sin? And do you suppose He has to "We let them go to school, don't we?" Uncle George said quickly. "We give them jobs, let 16 them live among us, even let them go to our churches-so I've noticed lately. Going pretty far, I'd say." "Yes, we let them go to school, at least here in the Northern states we do. And we give them the slums to live in and a little manual labor -scraps from our wonderful opportunities that we'd give to a dog if he had the mouth and the intelligence to ask for them. But is that charity, is that treating them as human beings like ourselves? "During the Holy Year there were holy cards showing streams of lambs pouring into the Vatican. They were all white. Well, maybe they were meant to represent pure souls. But if I had been that artist, stressing the unity of all men under the Pope, I would have taken the brush and made some red, some yellow, and some black to stress even more effectively the idea of international brotherhood under Christ." "Well, maybe, maybe. And I suppose in that same spirit of brotherhood you'd live next door to a Negro and let your children and his grow up together?" "Yes, I suppose I would. You know, those color lines in city ordinances are really against the natural and moral laws in the first place. My brother plays with Negroes at school every day and he is much better off than if he were playing with some of the white boys in the neighborhood. I knew a Negro in high school who was tops in sports, in scholastic standing, and in popularity-and out of a class of 350, too. You used to boo him when we listened to the games together, but he helped the team and played fair, didn't he?" . "You've got me. I'll have to a.dmit that those fellows on the team do play fair and well. And I'm rather overcome by your point about the different races in heaven. I had never thought of living with them through all eternity. Of course, if I had, I suppose it wouldn't have been enough to make me want to stay out of heaven. I'll try living with them now so that it won't be such a frightening novelty later. I'll start by looking for their good points instead of their bad ones. Come back tonight and we'll cheer for the team-the whole team." 17 by Francis Cardinal Spellman, Archbishop of New York is a man of action and vitality whose daily routine would completely exhaust two average men. Streamlining protocol to fi t the twentieth century,he is a "modern" prince of the Church in the real sense of the word. His engaging personality and man-to-man contact with all types of individuals draw all classes of people to him. Accepting the appointment as Bishop of C~tholics in the Armed Forces the Cardinal took on a tremendous task in addition to his regular duties as Archbishop of New York. Here as in other situations C ardinal Spellman was completely at home. He personally visited the theaters of war to encourage the men in the field, to reassure the p arents and loved ones at home, and to get an eye-witness glimpse of the way things were running. Recently he again r:esumed this job of visiting the armed forces in the field of battle. Cardinal Spellman's visit to Korea during the Christmas season of 1951 brought a feeling of peace to thous ands of soldiers far removed from the Christmas spirit at home. By these men as well as by the soldiers of World War II SUZ AN N REITH he will always be remembered as a real man and a good soldier. Few persons realize the exhausting and extensive work of Francis Cardinal Spellman. In addition to his duties as Archbishop and his trips to the European and Asiatic battlefields which covered over 100,000 miles he found time to write a number of books including a novel which was serialized in a popula ~ magazine. In 1946, Francis J. Spellman journeyed to Rome to receive the red hat of a cardinal. A close bond exists between Pius XII and Cardinal Spellman dating back to the day when neither was burdened with the many duties of an important office. As a mark of affection the Pope bestowed his own cardinal's hat on the youngest American cardinal. G. K. Chesterton once said, "A great man in any age must be a . common man and also an uncom mon man." Certainly these word~ can aptly be applied to Francis Cardinal Spellman. To the men 01 all na tions Cardinal Spellman is a shining example of the greatness of the Catholic spirit in America, yet to millions of people all over the world he will always remam the kindly parish priest. '18 by Any study of the history of the New World is bound to bring to light one amazing fact-the American nations, North and South, ha ve had peace longer and more often than the peoples of any other part of the world. Whereas wars have become more frequent and peace seemingly less popular in Europe and Asia, the Americas have shown a tendency to draw closer together in gestures of faith, good-will, and cooperation. But few Americans ever stop to think of this record; few know how it has been brought about. Possibly the story of peace is less popular than the story of war. Peace among the American nations did not come about overnight, and there are still problems; but these problems are outstandingly smaller ones than those facing the republics of America some one hundred years ago. The ideals of Inter-Americanism had their origin early in the nineteenth century. This was the time of the great independence movement in the Latin American countries by which these countries freed themselves from the rule of Spain. Surprisingly enough, the first man to propose an Inter-American union was the Great Liberator of South America, Simon Bolivar. His dream RACHEL WEST was one of a great American federation closely resembling the union of the newly formed United States. At the same time, in the United States, was Henry Clay, who suggested a similar alliance for the Western Hemisphere. A Congress, called by Bolivar, met in 1826 at Panama. The United States was not represe~ted at this conference, which had little value, and as the years went by, the Latin American nations' fe ar of "U. S. imperialism" grew to such an extent that all attempts at union were discouraged. The first really successful attempt, however, and the one which is generally recognized as the first step toward Inter-American .idealism in action, \vas a Congress, the First International Conference of American States, called by the Congress of the United States and held in Washington, D. c., October 2, 1889. Among its achievements was the creation of the "International Union of American Republics" and the " Commercial Bureau of the American Republics," later to be known simply as "the Pan-.\m~ri can Union." Since that time, nine conferences of the Pan American Republics have been held, -and each one has mad e significant contributions toward strengthening peace and bringing about better cooperation in the Western Hemisphere. United States forces in Panama and the Caribbean. Latin American warships and planes patrolled the South Atlantic and Pacific, and Latin American forces guarded our coastline. The most important and final step came only recently, in 1948, when the Ninth Pan American Conference, meeting in Bogota, Columbia, created the charter of the Organization of American States, which went into effect December 1 3, 195 1. The aims of the 21 member republics of the New World, as stated in the charter, are the basic principles of all Pan-Americanism: "to achieve an order of peace and justice, to promote their solidarity, to strengthen their collaboration, and to defend their sovereignty, their territorial integrity, and their independence." The organization is a regional agency of the United Nations. All of the countries which are members of the OAS are also members of the UN. Nevertheless, it is an independent agency, and is in complete authority in this hemisphere. Treaties ratified by OAS have proven themselves effective in settling very recent international disputes in Latin America. The Inter-American Treaty of Recip., rocal Assistance, signed at Rio de Janeiro in 1947, was invoked when a border dispute between Costa Rica and Nicaragua arose in 1948. A commission was appointed to investigate, and the matter was settled peaceably early in 1949. A serious charge of aggression between the Dominican Republic and Haiti arose in 1950, and a gain the treaty was put to good use. A similar dispute between Cuba and the Dominican Republic was settled in December, 1951, by OAS coopera tion. But Pan Americanism has not always been so successful, nor is the attitude of Latin American nations always one of cooperation. The chief difficulties of all the nations arise from a lack of understanding of the others' culture, politics, and economic outlook. The Latin American nations have never completely recovered from the idea of "U. S. imperialism," which arose during the latter part of the nineteenth century and the early part of the twentieth. The action of the United States in certain affairs in the Caribbean, in Panama, and in Mexico, at that But what effect has this organiza tion had on cooperation among the American nations? What has been the attitude of the United States toward cooperation in recent years? How do the Latin American nations feel about cooperation? In some matters, close cooperation has been extremely effective. It was through the Pan-American organization, and because of it, that everyone of the American republics entered World War II on the side of the United States. Latin American nations furnished raw materials for American war industry and foodstuffs for the (Continued on Page 43) 20 33 Science to Blaine? by Prior to \Vorld War II, SCIence was a great cooperative venture carried on by all men of good will from all nations. To aid in the search and accumulation of scientific knowledge, the scientist readily shared his latest findings and developments. MARY Lu METHOD our time, nor for the destructive or dehumanizing use we are making of the means it puts in our hands. \Vhat is responsible for the crisis is greed and desire for power. Thus the human person is threatened to:day with slavery, not through the fa~lt of science, but through that of the enlarged power granted by science. Neither is the problem of Communism the creation of science nor can Communism be wiped out by scientific methods. This picture was changed when secrecy was imposed upon atomic energy. Secrecy surrounds the scientific developments in each country, making them isolated" units. As a result the new develop men ts made in atomic energy are mere links of a chain which cannot be connected. The dropping of the first atomic bomb on Hiroshima spread fear and propaganda throughout the world. Everyone was aware the United States had developed the atom for wartime use, but no na tion knew the progress other nations had made in the development of atomic energy. Suspicion replaced cooperation in internation.al understanding. It is not the gigantic strides made by science in the development of the A-bomb and its big brother the H-bomb that should concern us but rather the breaking down of the artificial barriers erected by men. The condi tion of the world today is not due to unbridled science but rather is due to man's unwillingness to recognize the dignity and importance of human life in the divine scheme of things. As Bishop Fulton ]. Sheen puts it: "There is no such thing as the problem of the atomic bomb; there is, rather, the problem of man who makes and uses it." Is science to blame ? No. Science, considered in its very nature, is not responsible for the moral crisis of 21 :Jailh and patience in b ') I MARY EVELYN MALONEY There are many things to be said about world government; people have been talking about it, pro and con, for years. That is about all we can do right now-talk. But as Jesus told His disciples, "Have faith in God." steps which are necessarily difficult and slow must be taken in social and politicaO I achievements. We must be educated to world government. There must be a political order, a coming to social maturity, and a continued process of readaptation. If and when nations make uns:!1flsh ch:mges, then we shall have a good start; but we can be fairly certain that it will not come about in our time. Tradition points out to us the limit any generation can relch. So far as we have progressed, the U ni ted Nations seems to be our only conclusion. One must have faith that from the chaos of today a real international order will arise. After the Revolutionary War the colonists were faced with a similar problem. To them also, the question of unity became foremost. Political p::ralysis was inevitable with a congress that had little real power, and even that power could be nullified by anyone of the states with a veto which inhibited all action on important matters. Order was finally brought about by the ratification of the Constitution. A world government will not necessarily guarantee peace any more than our Federal Union guaranteed peace within its own borders. All we can say is that it is a necessary step on the long road to peace. The universality of peace can be achieved only by world government, but the obstacles in the way of setting it up are great; however, they can be overcome. What must be done to obtain world peace is, perhaps, more difficult than anything men have ever done politically; but it can be done. History shows us that certain inevitable The makers of the Constitution knew the limitations under which they were working, but they had a profound t~ust in their cause. In such a crisis as that of today, the n ations must act likewise. The main reason nations do not unite is because of their state and national jealousies which arise from 22 the fear of war. While this fear remains, there is no hope for the abatement of sovereignty and the establishment of a true federal union. About the most that can be expected in such circumstances is a halfhearted and ineffectual arrangement comparable to the Articles of Confederation or the League of Nations. Right now, peace plans are being drawn up and passed from nation to nation, blindly hoping t hat s 0 m e agreement may be reached; but sometimes the makers of these plans forget that the principle of peace is love, and the source of love is God. Our major purpose seems to be defense against the threat to our welfare and security instead of promoting a positive purpose. plete whole. This complete whole can be perfected until the world is at last one. \\7 orld government can be realized but we must have patience. We are not really sure what it will be like, because it has never existed; but the colonists were not certain about their federal union either. They knew that if they just waited for it to happen nothing would be accomplished. The job in hand is to set about accomplishing that purpose, undaunted by fear and confident that the goal lies within reach. . "And Jesus answered them Have faith in God. I promise you, if anyone says to this mountain, Remove and be cast into the sea, and has no hesi ta tion in his heart, but is sure that what he says is to come about, his wish will be granted him" (Mark xi: 21-24). The individual nation and an association of nations must be looked upon as parts of one com- 23 by MARY WASSEL of thought, in beauty and strength of expression, in interest of narrative, or in the perfect delineation of the workings of the human mind and heart. As Father Jean-Baptiste Lacordaire has said, "Even Homer has not equalled the account of the lives of the patriarchs in Genesis; Pindar never reached the sublimity of the prophets; as historians, Thucydides and Tacitus cannot be compared to Moses. The laws of Exodus and Leviticus are far superior to those of Lycurgus and Numa. Even before the Gospel, Socrates and Plato had been surpassed by Solomon, who left us in the Canticle of Canticles the most astounding song of divinely inspired love uttered by human lips and in Ecclesiastes the eternally pathetic hymn of fallen humanity. At last the Gospel, completing its teachings, stamps and seals it all with a beauty hitherto unknown. Like Christianity itself, that beauty ever inimitable finds nothing comparable to it here below." Anyone who has the good fortune to visit our national -capitol at Washington D. C. should not leave without first stopping at the National Gallery of Art. In this famous gallery there is a striking painting by the Dutch artist Nicolas Maes. It depicts an old lady, her face wrinkled with the sorrow-lines of a long life, sitting at a table with her head resting on one upright hand. A book lies open on the table before her and she has fallen asleep while reading it. This book is obviously the Bible and it is quite clear th1t she has read it often. This picture not only contains human ch'lrm, but it carries an important lesson. It shows how we should all feel-that the Bible is more than just another book, that the Bible is our friend. In it we can find God's answer to our problems, for every problem that can torture the mind of a God-fearing man there can be found a solution somewhere in the teachings of Christ. \\7 e must never forget that the words of Christ are universal. He spoke not only for the men and women of His own time but for all the men and women of every age in all parts of the world. . As a picture of God's dealings with man, and man's response to God's mercies and gifts, the Bible is a work divine in its perfection. It is a picture in which the hand of God paints with a human brush on the canvas of this world a panorama living in its startling realities. It In the vast range of literature no book is found that can compare with Holy Scripture in sublimity 24 earnestness which lifts it out of the realm of playacting. It has a greater power over our feelings than such excellent literature as Hamlet or Faust, because despite our absorption in the distress and suffering which Shakespeare and Goethe depict, we retain a mental superiority and detachment from the experience. We experience the torture of t he heroes in a more vicarious way than we do when reading the Bible, for the Hebrews were in earnest; what they had to say was real. Their poetry has the direct purpose of unburdening feeling; there is no "make-believe" here. These are men writing under mental tortures or glowing with spiritual delights. Human life itself has kept this poetry alive, because it is poetry written for all men. shows forth in uncompromising colors God's understanding and merciful love and, in contrast, man's unworthiness and helplessness. As a chronicle of the human race, the Bible is a narrative of absorbing interest, gripping mind and heart, as it unfolds before us the pages of the world's history, from the dawn of creation to the prophetic picture of a day when time shall be no more and earth shall pass away. It is indeed a universal work. The Bible is not one single book, but a collection of books written under the inspiration of the Holy Ghost and acknowledged by the Church as the Word of God. Of the seventy-two books of the Bible, the Book of Job is one of the world's greatest masterpieces. It is considered the world's classic. The magnificence, grandeur, and unstinted riches of this Book make it greater than any produced by Grecian bard or Christian writer. It abounds in ma tchlcss poetry and immortal thought. Daniel Webster, the American orator and statesman, described the Book of Job as "the most wonderful poem of any age or language -the more wonderful as it depends on the mere power of its dialogue." "Drink of the cup of the Old and New Testament," says St. Ambrose, "in both you will find Christ." An eminent Biblical scholar has aptly said, "The New Testament is the golden candlestick on which the Apostles have placed the light of the Gospel of Christ. From this candlestick it radiates through the centuries, giving Light and Life to men." The world would not be so close to the brink of disaster today if more time were spent in reading the Bible, mankind's universal book, so that it could indeed give "Light and Life" to our generation. Biblical verse has lived and retained its charm and popular appeal as has no other poetry down the ages. It has a quality of personal 25 by "Go on! We don't wantcha to play with us," one of the boys on the playground yelled. "Yeah," the others cried, "get out of here you old wop! You old dago!" DOLORES FEIGHNER have closed my eyes without seeing the great wrong of not facing life in the way the Lord would want me to." Tommie turned at the two flagstone pillars, passed the sign reading "Lincoln Park" and came to a stumbling halt before an autumnlittered bench. He sat down quickly and gulped the light scented air which had once been laden with the sweet smells of magnolia blossoms and lilac trees. Lilacs! How his mother loved them. One time he had crept into Mr, Shran's back yard snatching a 'w hole bush bare and offering them on the peace term that , his mother wouldn't punish him for ,playi'n g store owner and selling her jewelry to the neighborhood kids. And nine-year-old Tommie ran. He forgot the on-coming arithmetic class and the spelling bee and anything he had learned that day ::'.nq just ran. Where? He didn't ore. As long as Tommie Cas a could reme.mber he had always dashed down dreary Dubarry Street, away from the square cream-colored house with the brown roof and the one splin't ered porch plank that sprang up if you stepped just so on the other end. A husky, swollen feeling began to rise in Tommie's throat and he made his small legs carry him faster away from the school grounds in an effort to keep back the gathering tears. His mother's words throbbed in his ears, "Someday, Tommie, you won't be able to run away and then what will you do? What would have happened to you and small Carlotta if I hadn't faced my problem? It would have been much easier to leave you both and make a living for myself. But I loved you very much and I could never Tha twas before-well-befo're his father had left. Oh, Tommie understood why Mr. Casa had walked away from home and had never returned. There were those quarrels which had grown steadily worse. Mr. and Mrs. Casa, who had sailed to this country from Italy just before \V orld War II, had met here and married. With ' the birth of Tommie and then Carlotta, Mr. Casa found it harder each month to meet the milk bills, house rent, bus 26 fare to work, and the pressing fuel bjlls. Harder each month to be cheerful. Easier each month to grovel before a bottle of "sympathy." Finally, Mrs. Cas a became the weary supporter of the small family. Each time Tommie's parents quarreled, he became frightened and ran from the house to escape the bitter yells and hateful words which rang through the house. Then came the night that Mr. C asa had beaten his wife and Tommie had plunged terrorized through the back door into the darkness. When he returned, his father was gone forever from the cream-colored house on dreary Dubarry Street. "Hello there, Tommie," came a smiling voice. Not knowing anyone was near, the boy jumped from his slumped position, at the same time whirling towards the tall, angular man, dressed in a black suit and a stiff white collar. "Who are you?" Tommie said defensively. "I'm Father Paul from Trinity parish." "Howdja know my name?" he asked suspiciously. "Names are hard to keep secret," answered Father, still s mil i n g warmly. Both priest and boy stood looking at each other for several minutes without speaking. Realizing the priest had no intention of leaving, Tommie let himself sink again to the bench. "Mind if I sit down, Tommie?" Father ventured. "Guess not," was the abrupt reply. "Have you ever been in this park before?" "No-I mean yeah-one time last year my mother brought me here to show me that statue over there," and Tommie pointed to the mass of bronze which jutted above encircling evergreen trees. "Abraham Lincoln?" Father Paul asked. "Yeah, that's him," responded Tommie. "My mother told me he was the greatest man that ever lived and that he didn't care whether you were a nigger, or wop, or anything. Do you think he would have played with me, Father Paul, and not run away or called me names?" "Certainly," Father assured him, "you would have been swell pals. But Tommie," Father hesitated, "I know a man who is a hundred times greater than any Abraham Lincoln and he can help you with any trouble or problem you might have. His friends called Him names and did much worse things to Him than your friends have done to you. And he didn't run away, Tommie. He showed them He could take it. If you like, I'll take you to meet Him now." "Can't," said Tommie suddenly, standing up with an important air. "Gotta get home. So long, Mister." "Wait a minute," cried Father. "If you ever decide to go to see my Friend you'll find Him inside the building wi th the colored windows, two blocks straight ahead. It might be dark inside, but don't be afraid to speak to Him. Remember He had troubles too, but He didn't run away. He took things with a smile. 27 All He wants to hear you say is, 'If You could do it, so can I.' " "Okay," said Tommie, starting for the park exit. "One more thing, Tommie," Father called after him, "when my Friend does help you, promise me you'll come and let me tell you more about Him. I live next door to His house." "Yeah! Sure!" he promised. "What did you say His name is?" "The Lord, Tommie, just the Lord!" Father smiled. Evening had turned almost to pitch and Tommie ran along the sidewalk. Hurrying home was not usual for him but for some reason he hurried just the same. Several times, thoughts of Father Paul and the plrk came back and he . decided he ratber liked the man. Yes, he'd even have to see his Friend some time. Cutting across a gasoline station lot he suddenly made a dead halt and then began walking faster towards the house which blazed light from every window. He didn't bother stepping on that annoying porch plank but stepped over it and into the house. Seeing no one downstairs, he rushed up the staircase and flung open the bedroom door. Mrs. Casa's choked sobs ceased for an instant as she a"n d old Dr. Flitcher turned to see who had come in. Motioning Tommie to "come dose to her chair, she clutched him about the waist and buried her shaking head against his red plaid shirt. Then he gasped as he caught sight of Carlotta on the bed and her two twisted legs, torn and bruised. 28 "I believe she'll be all right," the doctor said. But Tommie only felt sick and shocked. He heard his mother mumbling something about an automobile as he rushed from the room and down the stairs. He knew he was leaving when his mother needed him most. But hadn't he always run when he was most needed? Too hot, sticky, and sick to run, Tommie turned slowly in the opposite direction from the one he had taken that afternoon. He didn't know where to go, or what to do. He felt like talking to someonesomeone who would understand why he ran away again. "Of course, the Lord!" Tommie thought, and he retraced his steps to the same flagstone pillars, only this time turning to his right and walking two blocks farther. Seeing the building with the dark windows, he knocked but no one answered. Slowly he pulled the grey door open and found himself inside a large dark room with many long benches. Creeping into a back seat, he sat silently with his hands clasped together and his eyes piercing the black air, but no one could be seen. How terrible Tommie felt for having run away again, especially when his mother needed him so badly. The doctor had said that Carlotta would get well, so no use asking the Lord for help there, but he just couldn't run away again. "The Loid," Tommie suddenly recalled. "Why, my mother used to speak of Him. She said that He was in Heaven and couldn't be seen but that He was kind and would help (Continued on Page 42) by Besides the language of words which is used to communicate ideas locally or internationally, there is the language of music which can do the same by using a different medium. It is a language that appeals universally at all levels of intelligence. It has a triple appeal: physical, emotional, and intellectual. Whether man responds with the feet, the heart, or the head, or with a combination of heart and head depends upon his knowledge of music and his preparation for its enjoyment. IRMA KLETT generation along with its folklore. By looking closely at the simplicity, sincerity, vitality, and emotion expressed in the folk music of various peoples the characteristics of the peoples themselves can be discerned. Folk songs generally exhibit strong racial characteristics, those of northern peoples mainly in melancholy minor strains, those of the southern, on the other hand, being vivacious and lively. Folk music includes also the music of dances at festivals as well as ballads of love, of brave deeds, or merely gossip. Sometimes folk music represents the traditions and traits of only a certain part of a country's national life; for example, the simple, immortal melodies of Stephen Foster. There are traces of its appeal even in the primitive stages of man. Here the rhythmic appeal led the way in the tribal music used in councils of war and celebrations of victory. A sense of rhythm is instinctive in the human race. Experience and history show the physical attraction of the beat of the drum and the compulsion of martial music. Familiarity with the music of the world establishes the fact that human beings have in common emotional experiences and aspirations . The lullabies of all people, be they French, Italian, or Russian, are recognizable by their mood of melody, which IS always soothing and gentle. Folk music IS one of the most important types of music on the melodic level. The music of a nation is generally based on folk music or the folk tunes that are handed down from generation to Another type of music that demonstrates the universality of music is Gregorian Chant. It has 29 no boundaries of country or nationality. In its essence, it is 'truly international. In every nation where the Catholic Church is, there can be found the beautiful melodies of Gregorian Chant. Wherever it is sung, everyone feels at home, however far from his native country. is known that not everyone has the same talents nor can all play the same instrument, but, according to one's natural ability, training, and discipline, one can make hiy individual contribution to the orchestra. An orchestra can be compared with life or a small world. Each person has a task to perform in a specified way and at a specified time. If all work together harmony ensues. If one musician or citizen breaks a law, the harmony is broken. From the need of coordinating and working with others in order to have harmony in the orchestra we learn that the contribution and participation of various peoples are important to universal culture. With the aid of radio and television today which bring the folk music of the different nations as well as the Gregorian Chant and the world's great symphonies into our homes, music is making an important contribution to international understanding, for through music we can grow in the understanding and love of all men. Through the study of the history of music one can broaden his horizons. By studying or merely listening to music one will soon realize that the great masters of music speak the same language. Music is a medium through which the human race speaks to posterity; therefore, it is very necessary for everyone to be prepared to listen to music intelligently. Since there is so much music on the radio and television today, it is important that listeners be discriminating listeners. Participation in music refines and disciplines the individual, and as a result he is prepared to live in greater harmony with others. For this reason, one should, if possible, join a school or civic orchestra. It 30 by In the world today we see the most valued possessions that we have as human beings violatedour human rights. We see individuals and even whole nations deprived of these rights by another individual or group of individuals. We as Christians and as rational creatures of God object vehemently to these violations. ANN MCCARTHY order to seek after happiness we . must have the other two, namely, Life and Liberty. We are guaranteed by our Constitution certain rights: religious freedom, freedom of speech, freedom from search, and certain judicial and electoral rights. It is evident that peoples are becoming more and more aware of the importance of the exercise of their human rights as is seen in the Declaration of Human Rights set down recently by the United Nations. This declara tion sta tes the basic human rights and also those rights which spring from the basic rights, including such things as the right to private property, the right to marriage, the right of parents to educate their children, the right to nationality, and the right of everyone to take part in the government of his country. Because of our firm belief in the fact that man has been endowed by the Creator with certain rights and that these are necessary for man as a human being for his eternal salvation, we exert every effort to defend them. Individuals are even willing to give up their dearest possessions in order that groups of individuals might enjoy their Godgiven rights. This is aptly shown by wars recently entered into - for this very purpose. We Americans are fortunate enough to have been born and to live in a nation which acknowledges these rights. These rights were given us by almighty God, the true and only source of all rights. We have been created by Him, made according to His image and likeness, and are endowed with a free will which by its very nature seeks happiness and essentially seeks that ultimate goal, eternal happiness. If we are to attain this end, then we necessarily have a right to the means. Human As it is asserted in our Declaration of Independence, men "are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights, among these are Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness." The pursuit of Happiness is without doubt the most essential of these rights, but in (Continued on Page 42) 31 To OUf Lady of Fatima Lady of Fatima, Mary pure, mild, List to the pleadings Made by your child. Peace was your promise Through penance and prayer. All must help somehowEach do his share. Lady of Fatima, You've set the pace, Breathed hope, encouraged The human race. In a world's family united, Peace will prevail. With prayer and your guidance How can we fail? -Pauline Siefert 32 World peace t" a ~ivine guarantee by "Lord, help us, we perish!" Once again our All-merciful Father has taken pity on His miserable human family. The Almighty has chosen as His emissary the Queen of Angels, Mary our Mother, to reveal to us the long groped-for secret, the secret to world peace. JUANA PHELPS The secret, searched for by honest hearts without success, was unveiled thirty-five years ago at Fatima. It is a definite, clear plan outlined by God and delivered to us by our beloved Mediatrix. Reparation, the rosary, many prayers, sacrifices these are our divine guarantee for world peace. 33 by All was quiet now. The small Korean battlefield was deserted. Pfc. Joe Hanahan, from Detroit, Michigan, lay wounded in the midst of a litter of flesh and blood. There had been a flourish of gunfire, the explosion of a grenade, then silence -silence followed by stealthy footsteps, a hurried glance which took them all for dead, and a quick departure. Joe, lying under the body of Leopold, hardly dared to breathe. Even now, though the steps had retreated, he was afraid to move. HELEN HOFFMANN been able to understand his language, nor he Joe's; but by means of the international sign language Joe had been able to discover his plight. His whole company had been wiped out, only Leopold remained, wounded and bitter. Next had come Douglas, frightened and ashamed. The cocky little Englander had fled the scene of battle and was now, like Joe, lost. Two more had joined their forces that day, on their journey down the road to nowhere, the Australian Sidney, and Pierre, the FrenchCanadian. Their conversation had had but one theme-why were they here? Lying there, he recalled how it . h'ld started. He had gone out on a scouting assignment with a couple of his buddies the night before. A Red sniper had gotten them before he got the sniper. Then, left by himself in the darkness, he had gotten lost. At first he had tried to find his way back, but he merely succeeded in losing himself more completely in the unfamiliar territory. Finally daw~ came, bringing with it the strangest day in his life. One by one they had all been drawn together. It h:ld been as if the giant hand of Providence had reached out and clasped them tightly in its fist. First had come Leopold, a towering blond bulk from Belgium. One look had been enough to tell he wasn't a Commie. Joe hadn't Douglas had started the tongues wagging. The United States had started this fight-why not let her finish it? Sidney and Pierre had joined him. It wasn't their country they were fighting for, not even their territory. Their fellow-countrymen were giving their lives for something they didn't even understand. This bickering back and forth was getting them nowhere. This so-called National Emergency had lasted long enough; neither side could win without an out and out war. Why go on fighting? Why this useless loss of lives? This fighting could gn on interminably. 34 his religion for many years. He had almost forgotten the meaning of life, but had been thankful that Joe had reminded him. He had said something to the effect that death, or change as Joe had called it, might come at any minute. Still, he might live to be ninety. He had even gone on to point out the example Christ had given. No one had understood Him; the shedding of one drop of His blood would have been sufficient to redeem mankind; yet, He chose to shed it all. There had been a reason for it, as he had been taught in his Catechism class long ago. Christ had wanted to prove His great love for man. Perhaps, there was a reason for this war too . . . Douglas had remained unconvinced. He hadn't believed in God or a life after death. He had hated Catholics and all they stood for. Joe who came from the States had the answer for these questions. They were fighting a war to prevent the further spread of Communism, to prevent the tragedy of third world war by not giving Stalin the free reign that had been allowed his predecessors. They were fighting, not for the gain of land or wealth, but for the principles of democracy. a Leopold alone had remained silent. He had seemed to realize what they were talking about, perhaps by their gestures. He had moved closer to Joe, as if to show that he was widi him. His own country had been overrun by the Axis powers during the first World \Var. She had cried out for help, but had been refused. Now it was the same thing all over again; only America had realized her mistake and was giving all the aid she dared. These were the things he would have said if he had been able. Sidney had been indifferent. He had led a good life, had believed in some kind of a god or a first cause. He hadn't known what this god was or what would come after death. All he could do was to wait and see. Douglas then had brought up religion, or rather, the lack of it. He had wanted to know why men were born if they only grew up to die in a hopeless war. At this point in the conversation the Commies had come upon them. They had scurried for cover behind a small foothill, each with hope in his heart. Sidney had cried out that if there be a God Who w atched over man, let Him help now. Even Douglas had yelled at the guys to pray to their God; he wished that he could. There was no running away for him this time. Joe had been able to answer that one too. He had told Douglas that each had been put on this earth to prove his worthiness for the happiness he was to share in heaven. This life was only a test; death wasn't the end of living, but a change for better or worse as the case might be. Pierre had remained silent for a while, then h :1d given his approval. He, like Joe, was a Roman Catholic, though he hadn't been practicing They had fought bravely, but the battle was short. They had had only their rifles against machine guns 35 and grenades. When the first grenade landed, Joe had reached it in time to throw it back, but the second one got them. Leopold had seen it too late. He had turned and flung himself on Joe, his huge bulk making a shield from the blast. Then had come the silence, the dread silence of death. Joe pulled himself out of the heap of dismembered bodies about him and looked toward the setting sun. He didn't know if he would live through the night. Perhaps help would come; perhaps, more Commies. He raised his eyes to heaven and in his heart whispered the words, "In God We Trust." J\ Garden of Nations When God in all His glory Designed the many nations, He patterned them as a garden Of flowers with variations. To the eyes they seem quite different, Like blossoms of spring in the sod, But all exist for one purposeThe honor and glory of ' God. -Barbara Morrissey 36 by PAULINE LARAWAY spirit of democracy in the heart of every American. They have endeavoured to inculcate the spirit of brotherhood in every citizen. But the brotherhood of man has no meaning if the fatherhood of God is not given its proper recognition. The rights and freedom about which people talk are but empty words if they are not filled with the realization that men came forth from the hands of the Creator, made in His image and possessed of equal rights because they have the same divine parentage. There exists in our world of today a threat to international peace which is seldom recognized. The threat is racial intolerance, a lack of respect for the rights of our fellowman. The reasons for this intolerance are many, but the principal reason is that men of today fail to see that people of other races are truly their brothers. They lack the knowledge tha t God is the Father of all. The only sure bedrock of human brotherhood is the knowledge that God is the Father of all mankind and the Creator of all beings. Through His divine providence all races have been placed on this earth to know Him, to love Him, to serve Him, and to be ' happy with Him in heaven. Brotherhood, therefore, is a divine command. Here in Amenca, the problem of antagonisms between races has become a national concern. Our country is based on the ideal of equality of men before God and under the law; however, America permits many inequalities and injustices. Conscientious people have been striving f~r years to eliminate these inequalities, to establish liberty and justice for all, and to implant the This parentage is unlimited in scope. It does not extend merely from the New England fishing towns to California's gold coast. It embraces all mankind, for God is truly the Father of all-the Eskimo in the polar regions, the American in a factory town, and the Pigmy in central Africa. God's parentage, therefore, is an international one recognizing no boundaries. Under this fatherhood of God, all the nations of the world are united as brothers. They may not speak the same language, wear the same clothes or have the same physical characteristics, but as children of (Continued on Page 43) 37 UnejCO by BARBARA REDER It may seem strange to some to speak of UNESCO in connection with international understanding, since most people look upon it merely as an organization to carry out the educational, cultural, and scientific programs of the UN. As its name implies, UNESCO-the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization-is devoted to these fields, but it is not limited to them. UNESCO is an international organization composed of all the peoples of the membernations and it has as its prima'ry aim the promotion of world peace. Now, many are inclined to be sceptical about this. They say, "That's a very worth-while aim, but, after all, UNESCO is only one organization. How can it expect to accomplish something like world peace when people have been attempting it for thousands of years with little or no success?" So they shrug their shoulders hopelessly and go their ways. But the fact remains that UNESCO is attempting to accomplish just that-world peace. Perhaps the question now arises as to what all this has to do with international understanding. In order to achieve its ultimate object, namely, world peace, UNESCO is seeking to establish understanding between peoples of all nations through an exchange of educational, cultural, and scientific materials. In this is included the free flow of communication, the sharing of knowledge across national boundaries, the placing of educational methods for use by less educated nations, and the aiding of war-torn countries. From the practical aspect, this plan has been carried out in the exchange of teachers, students, and workers of different nations, thereby giving these "exchanged" persons a chance to learn something of the customs, language, and culture of the countries to which they are sent and to carry this information back to their own countries. In this way, the peoples of various nations begin to understand more clearly the other peoples of the world. Of course, this is only one phase of UNESCO's activity. There are exchange centers in which are compiled the literature and new developments of advanced countries to help the more backward neighbors; there are technicians sent to countries needing aid in special projects A ware of the unsuccessful a ttempts by noteworthy agencies, UNESCO has come to realize that if such a thing as world peace is to be established, the people themselves must accomplish it, not the governing bodIes of the various nations. 38 that they may take an effective part in world-planning. But given a chance it may succeed, and it is up to the individual to give it this chance. or functions; there are schools set up to train teachers who will return to their native lands to help stamp out illiteracy and to aid the cause of world peace; and there are numerous other activities carried on by UNESCO or by private groups acting under UNESCO auspices. The people of the world must learn to live together. The evils of ignorance must be countered by knowledge; suspicion must be offset by trust; and jealousy, by mutual respect. The aim of UNESCO is to bring men and ideas together, but its success will depend largely on in d i v i d u a 1 s who believe in UNESCO, and take an active part in this campaign to resolve the misunderstandings, the fears, and suspicions now so prevalent among the peoples of the world. If world peace is to be maintained, international understanding m u s t fir s t b e achieved;. It is easy to see that the problem is not a simple one, nor can it be accomplished unless the people of the world co-operate by living up to the principles set forth by UNESCO, by seeking to eliminate prejudice wherever it is found, and by giving UNESCO all the support it needs . Certainly, it will be no simple job to eliminate long-standing prejudices held by the people of one nationality for those of another, nor will it be a simple process to set the backward countries of the world on their feet so by Looking at their own federation of forty-eight states which reaches across a continent, Americans wonder why the European nations have continuously failed in their attempts to achieve such unity and peace. During the past decade alone there have been three unsuccessful attempts, the Western Union, the European Council, and the United Nations. JOYCE ANN EDWARDS Carcinogenic politics, or political cancer, might be one diagnosis of the disease which afflicts all these alliances. In the UN a few cells, leading nations, such as England, France, and Russia have grown disproportionately powerful. Just like cancer cells in the human body, these nations devour their smaller neighbors and are in constant struggle. 39 Both the United States and the Swiss Confederation can offer a remedy for this fatal disease. Switzerland is composed of four predominant national groups: Germans, French, Italians, and Romansh. Instead of forming their political units according to these national divisions, the Swiss, like the United States, wisely created twenty-five cantons of equal importance. No , Swiss canton nor any state in our country would desire or feel powerful enough to start a war or break from the nation. Likewise, a "United States of Europe" might be able to live as peacefully. Europe might be won over to the plan of division by the promise of proportional representation in the UN. France and Italy, for example, would then receive not one vote, but one for a specified number of inhabitants. Each delegate might be elected, not by the nation as a whole, but by the citizens of his district and be responsible only to them. In time, France and Italy, like ancient Greece, would exist merely as cultural units, while the political existence would be in the peace-loving small states. The individual state, like the individual person, has been lost in Europe among the shapeless masses, in an ethereal world union that is not tangible enough to be grasped. Even Hitler was sensible enough to reorganize the German states into smaller units in order to control them better. We must teach Europe to watch the mason work with single bricks and the musician play separate notes in building skyscrapers and symphonies. We must show them our own United States which has not known a moment's disunity since 1789 except during the one cancerous growth of the South which resulted in a Civil War. Knowing the disease and the remedy, however, does not necessarily mean that the UN would be willing to apply our federal system to itself. No executive force was ever formed in the organization and no standing army, because the larger nations were afraid and too proud to hand over their power to any other leader. European nations also have a natural tendency to oppose the proposed division into their original feudal state divisions under a "United States of Europe." Unification, they contend, was what brought about the advancement of European civilization. 40 by Going therefore, teach ye all nations. These were the words of MARJORIE HERCULES personal interests of foreign investors and exploiters. Christ to His Apostles over nineteen hundred years ago. Following His command, they went forth to preach His Gospel to all peoples. The chief objective of the missionary program of the Catholic Church is to establish the visible Church of Christ in all parts of the world, so that men of good will can learn her message and learn of their redemption by Jesus Christ. The Ca tholic Church is not precisely international in its point of view, but rather supranational - rising above nationalities-and taking in her global concept all men as brothers in Christ. From that day to the present, Holy Mother Church, not content to let any soul pass on without having known the peace and tranquility which the knowledge and love of God bring, has been sending her missionaries to the farthest ends of the globe. By ~he zeal with which they carryon their work and the love they manifest in caring for their flock, be it white, black, red, or yellow, the mssionaries have often been the link of understanding between the nations of the world. When countries were expanding their colonial empires, the missionaries were often called upon to make peace between the conquered and the conqueror, and to intercede with the mother country in behalf of her colonists across the seas. The missionaries' task has become a difficult one in recent years because of the conflict between Christianity and atheistic communism. The missionaries, however, will not cease in their efforts to bring the people of the world into a common brotherhood. For this important work they need the spiritual support of our prayers and sacrifices so that the Lord of the vineyard may bless their efforts with an abundant harvest of souls. With every soul gained for Christ they make a substantial contribution to better international understanding, for international friendship will grow only as larger numbers of the world's people accept the fundamental teachings of Christianitythat God is our Creator and su- Through the centuries, the missionaries have been instrumental in promoting international understanding. They are the "good-will ambassadors" of the . nations by their personal unselfishness which often counterbalances the greed and 41 preme Law-Giver, and that the only brotherhood of man which can be depended upon to accomplish any- ..JJuman Righfj thing for world peace is that which recognizes our common brotherhood with Jesus Christ . (Continued from Page 31) rights, therefore, are derived from our human dignity and from our immortal destiny. It is easily seen, therefore, that man deprived of the exercise of his human rights loses his dignity as a human being. He cannot express an 3/ you Could :1)o!Jf OpInIOn; he cannot be educated as he desires; he cannot own private property; he cannot worship as he likes; he cannot pursue earthly happiness, nor can he easily attain the eternal happiness prepared for him -the salvation of his immortal soul. (Continued from Page 28) back, "You wop, you dago," the only "wop or "dago" he heard was the empty klinkety-klank-klankplink of the radiators. He didn't know whether he could ever grow up to be as great as Abraham Lincoln or the Lord, but he did know that words couldn't hur t him. The next time someone called him a name or he became af raid he would smile like Father Paul had that afternoon. Tommie, remembering his promise to Father Paul, told himself he must certainly find out more tomorrow about the Lord who soothes troubles so fast. After the grey door had swung gently shut behind him, Tommie Casa bravely headed for home. others always, and Mister Father Paul said that the Lord is one hundred times greater than Abraham Lincoln, and even had had troubles worse than mine." "You know what the Lord wants to hear you say," he seemed to hear Father Paul say. Tommie's voice tried weakly, "If You could do it, so can I," but that was too light for anyone to hear, so Tommie once again called louder through the black air, "If You could do it, so can I." He began to feel strength, confidence, and courage flowing into his body. He called out at the top of his voice, "If You could do it, so can I." Half expecting to hear someone yell 42 time awakened justifiable distrust on the part of the countries to the South. Despite the many repeated friendly gestures of the United States toward establishing friendship and coopera tion as the basis of our Inter-American relations, the feeling remains that the United States, a Protestant nation, is only out for its own good and no good of theirs. In the United States itself, misunderstanding is as great, if not greater. Lack of proper education about the Latin American countries and their backgrounds has given many Americans the wrong attitude toward these nations. Citizens of the United States are too easily inclined to consider their nearest neighbors in a patronizing, condescending manner. Differences in language and customs have often been the cause of serious misunderstandings. To bridge the gap between this lack of understanding and the work of the OAS which has been so successful, there must be education in the cultural values and language of the different nations. A plan for educational work of this type has already been drawn up by the ~AS. As a world power, the United States should take the lead in supporting this plan and other projects, such as economic assistance programs of the Point Four type in order to further the spirit of good will among all the nations. If the OAS will receive the full support of everyone of the American nations and if such support is continued, all Americans will have reason to rejoice in the knowledge that if danger should threaten anyone of them, all the others will stand ready to repel that danger, whether it be social, political, or economic. (Continued from Page 37) a respect for the dignity of man, and to promote justice in world affairs. All must work together for this end-for it is only with the unity of all peoples under the direction of God that peace, freedom, and justice in the world will be attained. God they are all members of the same family. The solution of the problem of racial intolerance, both on a national and international level, is to awaken the spirit of brotherhood in the peoples of the world, to foster 43 by Busses whizzing! Horns honking! People pushing! Everywhere hurry, hustle, rush! Heinrich took refuge in the nearest doorway and stood for a long time viewing the panorama before him. New York -dazzling, glorious, colossal! New York - hard, cold, disinterested! Heinrich was lost in the giant metropolis at rush hour. BARBARA REDER told him ir:nmediately that this was a man of authority. Searching diligently through his smattering of classroom English for words to express his situation, Heinrich finally singled out the word, "Lost." The policeman smiled. Now all he had to do was to find where the lad lived and everything would be fine; however, when Heinrich answered, "Ge r man y," Officer O'Riley was stumped. Scratching his carrot-colored locks, he suddenly came up with an inspiration. Just two doors down the street was the office of a lawyer who himself had come from Germany ' years ago and still spoke German fluently. He immediately hustled a dubious Heinrich intb the building and soon the odd pair burst in upon the lawyer. He had long awaited this moment, this dream that he had never believed could come true. His f~iends and relatives back in Germany had envied him this opportuni ty to come to America and he had promised to give them a full account of all that he would see and experience in this land of opportunity. Now, he was bewildered and disgusted. True, New York was everything he had heard it would be, but he had expected the people to be different, to be friendly and helpful. Instead they were withdrawn and snobbish. Otto Schmidt, realizing Heinrich's predicament, took charge at once and soon had him completely a t ease. On hearing someone who not only understood his language but could speak it also, the boy felt such a relief that he wanted to cry. His story came tumbling out quickly and before long Mr. Schmidt was able to inform a ra ther confused policeman of the whole situation. Suddenly, a voice at his elbow startled him, "Well now, lad, what's the trouble? You seem to be worried about something." Frightened, Heinrich turned toward the voice to discover a jolly red face under equally red hair, and a blue uniform which 44 Heinrich had arrived that very land of opportunity. Of course, he morning on a ship with other Gerhasn't really seen much of it, but man youths who had come to Amerit's enough to make him decide that ica to work on farms and attend he wants to go back home already. school. They were to stay on the I wonder ... " farms assigned to them for a year \Vhile he talked, he was rapidly and then return to their homeland. forming a plan. An hour later, a The trip had been arranged by a rather bewildered German youth youth organization and was, in a . found himself seated in a car beway, a hands across the sea idea. side Mr. Schmidt on his way to The group was to stay in New York Long Island. The matter had been for the night and leave the followeasy to arrange and after a few ing afternoon by train for states in hurried phone calls-one to his the Middle West where the farms wife and one to the consulate-Mr. were located. Everyone had been Schmidt had whisked Heinrich assigned a room in a hotel near away and was now taking him to the consulate and told to stay close a pleasant home in the suburbs, to to one another and near the hotel. a home-cooked meal and to an air But Heinrich, in the excitement of of friendliness that the boy needed. his first day in America and at the Otto Schmidt, his wife and his sights around him and in his eagerson, Johnny, made Heinrich's first ness to see and remember everynight in America one of wholesome thing, had wandered off. living and friendly interest. He "The matter's really simple," fincould never repay them for their ished Mr. Schmidt, "all we have kindness, nor would he ever forget to do is to take the boy back to this evening spent in a typical the consulate or to the hotel 10 American home. These people had which he's staying." shown him what America was like beneath the surface. At their inBut even as he said it, he was sistence, he gladly consented to eyeing the boy, remembering his stop and see them on his way back own first days in the New World, to Germany. days filled with fright, insecurity, and dislike. On sudden impulse he Twelve months later, a tanned figure could be seen hurrying began to question Heinrich as to what he thought of this new counthrough the streets of New York. try. No sooner had he started his Jostling and pushing, he edged his questioning, than Heinrich poured way through the mass jamming out all his thoughts, thoughts that into the subway station. Heinrich had accumulated during his wanwas lost again, but this time he was lost in thought rather than in derings through the teeming crowds of noonday Manhattan. the unfamiliar grey stone of New York. When Heinrich had finished, Mr. Images of all that had transpired Schmid t turned to the policeman with a sad smile, "He doesn't like in the last twelve months passed through his mind. He had much to us, nor does he think much of our 45 tell the Schmidts, much more to tell those af home. He had always known the soil, but the fertility of that which he had worked with on the small Iowa farm to which he had been assigned had been beyond all expectations. The farm machinery and the agricultural system in this country far surpassed his greatest imaginings. But, more than this was the democracy he had discovered. This system of government was TOPS! work in Germany, too. Of course, it would take time; the people had to learn; but with patience and hard work it would succeed as it had succeeded in the United States. Heinrich felt almost akin to Columbus in the America he had found in the short year he had spent with her people. He had found friends, a new language, and a new way of living, and he had loved every minute of it. The subway train jerked to a stop and Heinrich heard the conductor call out his station. \Vith other scurrying figures he jumped off the train and mounted the steps . to the street. Happy and content he jogged along to the home of the Schmidts where he knew friendship and wholesome people awaited with eager interest his account of his discovery of America. Before coming to America, Heinrich had had doubts as to whether this system would work in Germany. He, as most youths of his age, had believed that his people would have to be regimented and dictated to, rather than be allowed to use their own judgment. Yet, America had proved how the system worked and lasted. It would 46 BDDIl REVIEWS by Eugenio Pacelli: Pope of Peace is the combined life story of Eugenio Pacelli and a political hjstory of the Vatican from 1914 to the present. As Pope Pius XII, Eugenio Pacelli rules over a tiny state composed of one hundred acres; he also rules over more than twenty-eight million souls for whom he makes decisions in religious matters. No Pope in history has ever held so vital a position as Eugenio Pacelli. An advocate of Peace, he has crusaded courageously against war and the radical tendencies of Nazism, Fascism, and Communism. Today he stands as the greatest spiritual rampart against the Communistic forces. Eugenio Pacelli espoused the cause of international peace during his earlier years. While he was yet a student, Pacelli was greatly influenced by St. Augustine as the champion of true peace in his City of God. He must have known even then the comprehensive definition of peace given by St. Augustine who spoke of "the peace of all things tranquillity of order." Pius XII's strong idea of peace becomes perhaps more clear in the OSCAR HALECKI light of a less familiar quotation from St. Augustine: "It is more glorious to kill war through words than to kill men through iron, and to obtain peace through peace rather than through war." The best remembered peace attempts of Pius XII were the efforts he made in 1939 to bring Germany and Austria to agreeable terms. \Vhen news of the Nazi-Soviet pact, which destroyed the last of peace, was made. public, the Pope well interpreted what was threatening as is best evidenced by his radio appeal to the world. Although his pleas and efforts failed, this address was one of the most moving appeals ever made by a Pope. In the name of God Himself, Pius XII appealed to reason, using what was to become the famous phrase: "Nothing is lost with peace; all may be lost with war." Oscar Halecki, the author, is a devout Catholic and an historian of renown. He is, therefore, quite capable of presenting an accurate account of the Pope in both a spiritual and temporal light. -Mary Schud 47 by He thought he had built his house on sands-. There was nothing distinguished in the sound of his name-Francis MacNutt-but this name became a familiar sound on the lips of great per son age s throughout the world. This man who became the confidant of an emperor and three popes was born in Richmond, Indiana. Brought up by his grandparents, who were shut away in their own little world, he was not offered what his unsure mind craved. At an early age Francis found the first Real Thing in his life - Catholicism. 0 d d I y enough he did not embrace it until he reached young manhood. Francis was restless, always restless. He was sent away to study at Harvard and there met Oscar Wilde. Through him Francis was introduced into Londoq society on his first voyage to Europe. From then on he became, in turn, diplomat, ambassador, and papal chamberlain. While yet in his twenties Francis met the man who influenced his life greatly in the years that were to come. This was Father Kenelm Vaughan, an English priest and mystic, who was a loveable and inge~ious man. Attracted by Vaughan's magnetic personality, Francis believed he had a vocation and went to study for the priesthood in Rome. There he was the classmate of many of the cardinals, bishops, and JOHN L. BONN priests that later would be well known. The most famous of these was Della Chiesa, later Pope Benedict XV. Realizing, finally, that he did not have a vocation, Francis became a diplomatic representative of the United States Government. Traveling through all the capitols of Europe, Asia, and this continent, he was greatly influenced by all the complex societies of the world. One of these societies was that of Mexico. There he met with one of the strangest and most romantic experiences of his life. Everyone who sa w him believed that he was the son of Maximilian because of his amazing resemblance to the Hapsburg family. Not long after leaving the seminary, Francis decided to marry. Besides his religion, he needed the realness of a woman in his life. Without his realizing it, Margaret Ogden MacNutt greatly influenced her husband in many of the decisions he had to make. His Catholic Faith and Margaret were the only real things in his life. In his later years he was very influential in Roman and Hapsburgian society. He became very intimate with Emperor Franz Josef of Austria at the time of the collapse of the Austrian Empire and did much to aid the royal family. Francis was also very close to Pope Leo XIII and later to Pope Bene48 dict XV. His career was climaxed by negotiating the concordat which established the independent Vatican State. touched and enriched his narrative with the lasting deep faith of this man of the world. Francis MacNutt had failed in many things but he had also accomplished much. "It was a good life, after all, made up of failures , of mistakes and failures of the kind that Kenelm Vaughan loved - a life never patterned by himself, but patterned for him by One Who saw it more clearly than he couldWho had built his life upon rock, taken the house that he had built upon sand and set it firm upon a rock. It was good ... " John Bonn ably re-creates the complex societies of the worldespecially the Roman and Austrian societies which greatly influenced MacNutt. He admirably captures every phase of the life and career of Francis MacNutt so that the book is both absorbing and charming. Each new experience is marked by a color and flavor that render the reader capable of feeling the excitement of this unique human b e i n g. Bonn has competently -Marie Martino by T he Uprooted is the story of the crucial experiences of the 35 million people who emigrated to the United States in the past century and a half. "Uprooted" accurately describes their condition, because they were literally just that. Severing all ties with the Old World, they were not to rebuild their cultures and customs, but to be molded and changed to fit the patterns of the New World. Professor Handlin depicts the difficult stages of tlieir Americanization with a deep insight. OSCAR HANDLIN against. His experiences were alienation, suffering, and disillusionment. He had to wrestle desperately for a living in a more industrialized, more competitive economy. But out of his terrific struggle there emerged qualities of independence and enterprise which have played a significant part in vitalizing the fiber of the American nation. In this epic story of the great migra tions that made the American people, Oscar Handlin has by his understanding of the immigrants' reactions in their exposed state succeeded in his hope to "throw light on the problems of all those whom the modern world somehow uproots." The nineteenth century immigrant expected to find America a land of opportunities. On the contrary, he found himself a foreigner, often despised and discriminated -Mar)1 Evelyn 49 ~alont') by JAMES KELLER Father James Keller, founder and head of the Christopher movement, has written and published within the last five years three books which sum up the Christopher movement and point out the manner in which all conscientious American citizens can play an active part in shaping America and the world as a whole. plodding means to attain the goal of world understanding and co-opera tion on all levels. Careers That Change the World, the second book, goes one step further with an even more definite purpose. Helpful methods which enable individuals more easily to secure positions in the vital fields which shape the destiny of our coun try and the world are also outlined. Education, government, communications, labor relations, social service, and library workthe most important fields according to Father Keller-are discussed at length. The picture Father Keller paints is a true one. Careers are not discussed in glowing terms, but the disadvantages and hardships are also brought to light. Y all Can Change the World, the first in the series, is written to explain ~nd generally acquaint the public with the purpose and work of the Christophers. Father Keller stat.es the theme of the book when he says, "It is not intended as a book for experts. Neither is it a literary work. Rather it is an 'A-B-C' for the average person who, becoming more and more disturbed by the rapid trend toward paganism, feels helpless and frustrated only because he is not aware of the vital role he can play, personally and individually, in reversing that trend." The book concludes by saying it is not possible for everyone to enter a profession, but it is possible for every person to influ~nce those around him to enter into a career which will benefit not only them but mankind and further the brotherhood of men. Father Keller concisely and adeqU:itely shows the importance of every field of activity from labor management to participation in school activities. From the most t.o the least important everyone has a job. The ideas presented are not merely theoretical, but practical, Father Keller aims the third in the series at all Americans entitling it Government Is Your Business. The greatness of America, its power and strength lies in the fact that every American has an equal right 50 Each citizen should consider it a personal duty to protect the heritage of his government. Government affects all of us. Father Keller urges every citizen to take an active interest in his government, be it federal, state, county or village, for the good of his own country and the world. and methods for getting more conscientious workers, are also discussed. Father Keller effectively brings home the fact that government is only as good as the people who run it. These three books should be read by every clear-thinking, intelligent American. Father Keller has a free, easy style of writing. The books are friendly and informal. Careers That Change the World and Government Is Your Business cannot be appreciated to the utmost unless the reader has first read You Can Change the Warld. These three books help the student in his search of the right profession and give the older person a better perspective of his job. The reader, whatever his age, will close the last volume with a deeper understanding of the Christopher movement and an appreciation of the part each individual can play in changing the world. The Civil Service, its problems -Suzann Reith to express his opinion on the manner in which the government should be run. The author emphasizes again and again the many special blessings God has bestowed upon Americans . Americans should respect and cherish these blessings as something for which a great price was paid. The unlimited opportunities in America are not a national heritage in the strictest sense of the word. Clear thinking Americans realize the im. portant part each citizen plays and make government their business. 51 PATRONS Mr. and Mrs. Frank J. Abrams Mr. and Mrs. M. C. Miller Miss Mary Louise Alter Mrs. Marie Milne Mr. and Mrs. Carl Boersig Miss Gertrude Montag Mrs. Thomas W. Brady Miss Antoinette Pangallo Mr. and Mrs. Harry Fox Mr. and Mrs. Albert Mr. and Mrs. Bradley Gaughan Mr. and Mrs. Carlos F. Pena Miss Jane Gaughan Mr. and Mrs. Herman Reder Mr. and Mrs. Francis A. Giblin Mrs. Jerome Rund Miss Betty Jo Grady Mr. Eugene Runyan Mr. and Mrs. D. J. Grady J. Peine St. Mary Academy Miss Phyllis Guidone Miss Marilyn Schmidt Miss Loretta Hahn Mr. and Mrs. J. L. Schuck Mr. and Mrs. Knute Herber Mr. and Mrs. Joseph Sgro Judge and Mrs. O. Hoffmann Mr. and Mrs. Francis Sheridan Mr. and Mrs. Norman Horowitz Mr. and Mrs. W. C. Skillen Miss Joanne James Mr. and Mrs. Adolph Stocky Miss Miriam Kern Miss Renate T rendel Mr. and Mrs. Harry L. Lowe Mr. and Mrs. Mr. and Mrs. W. F. Maloney Miss Marianela Urrutia Mr. and Mrs. Joseph Martino, Jr. Miss Clare Watson Dr. and Mrs. B. J. J. B. Urrutia Miss Mary Wechsler Matthews J. \Vechsler Mr. and Mrs. John F. McCann Mr. and Mrs. R. Miss Mary Jo McHugh Mr. and Mrs. Michael Wokna Mr. and Mrs. Hugh J. Method 52 BUSINESS PATRONS FRED B. ALEXANDER Printer 111 S. Capitol, LI. 2206 ARLINGTON SUPER MARKET 6005 E. 10th St. BELMONT CAFE CORP. 210 S. Belmont BUSH CALLAHAN SPORTING GOODS 13 6 E. Washington, FR. 34 53 CHETS DRIVE IN 1429 W. 30th, HI. 3792 DELLA PENNA RADIO COMPANY Appliances, Furniture, Television 5044 E. 10th St. Bring 'em back alive. BL. 8967 GENERAL BAKING CO. Bond Bread 318 W. Vermont, PL. 6465 KINGSTON PRODUCTS Illinois Building, PL. 6388 HARRY K. LANDES 837 N. Illinois, RI. 3655 TUCK!vlAN AND SONS Clean::rs 3514 College, TA. 3327 53  ...

... cYr[arian College Indianapolis, Indiana THE FIORETTI AN ANTHOLOGY OF MARIAN COLLEGE PROSE AND VERSE VOLUME TEN Marian College Indianapolis, Indiana 1952-1953 OUR AMERICAN HERITAGE To MARY IMMACULATE PATRONESS OF THE UNITED STATES this volume is lovingly dedicated The Staff Editor PAULINE SIEFERT Associate Editor RITA SHERIDAN Assistant Editors JOYCE ANN EDWARDS RITA MCCANN JUDY RAHE JOANN HAZLEWOOD ROSEMARY TISSERAND Art MARTA KILCZER HELENE HERBER Business Managers THELMA RUNYAN MARIE MARTINO MARY WECHSLER RITA SKILLEN 4 Contents Editorials _____________________________ _____ ___________ --________________ . ___________________________________ .7, 8 'Neath Mary's Care..--- __ ._. _____ ___________ . ____ .Joyce Ann Edwards, '5 L_. __ .. ___ . 6 Our Land-Mary's Land _______ _________ . _____ .Joann Hazlewood, '56 _______________ . 9 A Rare Gift.. .. _.. __ . __________ . ____ ._. _______________ Patricia Miller, '54 ____________ __________ 11 An Unparalled Phenomenon ____________ .... __Rita Sheridan, '5 L __________ _________ . 12 The Melting Pot.. __ ._._ .. ____ . ___ ________ . _______ .. Judy Rahe, '56 __________ .. ___ ________ .. _.. 13 America, Forgive Me_______________ .. ______ .. ____ Rosemary Tisserand, '56 __.. __ ._. __ . 15 The American Way _____________ __________________ Helen Hoffmann, '53 _._. ____ ._ .. _. ___ . 18 The Hunt and the Search _________ . _______ __ __ _Frances Tietz, '56 _________ . ___ ._. _____ . 19 T aps _____________ _____________________________ . ________ ____ Joann Hazlewood, ' 56 _______ . _______ . 22 Meet My Father _________ .___________ . _____________ ._Barbara Siska, '56 _____________ . ___.. __ . 23 The Way of Culinary Art. ___ __________ . ______ .Patricia Miller, '54 ______________________ 25 An American, A Walkil1,g Dollar BilL __Rachel West, '54 ___ _______ __ ____________ 26 The Hills Call ___________________________ . ____________ Joann Hazlewood, '56 _______________ . 27 It's All in the Point of View __________________ Martha Pictor, '56 _____ __ ________ . __ .. 29 Miss Liberty Speaks ____________ . ________________ __ Rita McCann, '5 L ________ .. ___ ._._ ... 32 SPanish MOsL ___ _________________ . _________________ __ Frances Tietz, '56 ______ ___ .. _____ _____. 33 Trees ___________________________________ ____________ _______ .Martha Pic tor , ' 5 6 _____________________ . 34 America, The BeautifuL _______________________ Joyce Ann Edwards, '53 ___________ . 35 The American Woman, As a Foreigner Sees Her.. _____ ___ _____ __ .Iris Pena, '5 L ____________ ______ ___ ___ ___ _ 36 W hat Everyone Should Know ______ _______ __ Julia Abrams, '56 _______ . ___ __________ . 37 Everyone's Log Cabin _____________ ______ _________Rosemary Tisserand, '56 ___. _______ . 39 We Never Say Die _________________________________ Carolyn Zapp, ' 56 ______________________ 40 A Melody UnchangeL __________________________ Joann Hazlewood, '56 ________________ 41 Autumn Reverie ____________________ ____ _____ ___ __ __ Pauline Siefert, '54 ____________________ 44 Music, an Interpreter of American Life.Audrey Kraus, '5 L ___ _____ ____________ 45 Book Reviews "Benjamin Harrison, Hoosier Warrior, 1833 -1865" ___ Julia Abrams, '56 __ ____________________ 47 "Catholicism and American Freedom" _____________ _____ Marie Martino, '53 _____________________ . 48 "The Bounty Lands" _______________________ Rita Sheridan, '5 L ___________ . ____ .. 50 Patrons _________ . __ ._ .. ______ . _______________________ . ________________________________________________________ 52 5 'N eath Mary's [are To live in a land where the springtime brings A song to each human heart, A land with the freedom and friendship one needs To feel he's a worthwhile part- To walk down a street and smile at your friends And know they are smiling too, 'Or greet a stranger you've never seen And feel that his words are true- This is to live 'neath Mary's care In America, the great, the fair. -Joyce Ann Edwards ,6 ED IT DRIALS "It is better to light just one little candle than to stumble in the dark," is the beginning of a song that Bel Canto members have been humming all year. Perhaps not one of us will become a president of the United States, a world famous writer, scientist or T.V. star, but each of us will be an individual citizen with his own distinctive contribution to make to the collective greatness of America. Much stress has been placed, in the twentieth century, on collective security-in the world as a whole through the League of Nations and the United Nations, in the Western Hemisphere through the Pan-American Union and the Organization of American States. Realizing their impotence while working separately, the nations of the world have united to fight Communism and to face their other problems. They work together toward a common goal, each retaining its individuality and offering its own customs, resources and leaders. Large or small, each contribution is recognized as essential for the success of their program for world peace. America itself is built on collective security, with the states united under a central government. More basic than this political unity is the collective security of the millions of citizens who as individuals make up the United States. It is not in the government authorities but in the individual citizens that our democratic powers lie. The citizen's vote is sought through costly campaigns, then carefully recorded and counted. His rights are scrupulously safeguarded by the courts. Lawmakers test public sentiment on pending bills. Advertisers appeal to Mr. Jones and Mrs. Smith, who, by each individual purchase of their choice, collectively determine the success of a product. We, the citizens, then, are the ones who hold the responsibility of acting in such a way as to properly determine America's policies, economic, political and moral. We are America-we are the greatness of America. We keep our nation great, not merely by collective industry and military force, but by each individual's democratic spirit, which serves as an impenetrable bulwark against the internal destruction of the morale and morals of a people. President Eisenhower expressed the matter in this way during last year's presidential cam p a i g n : "America is great because she is good, and if America ever ceases 7 to be good, America will cease to be great." Weare America. It is up to us to do our part in maintaining our nation's bright light of moral in- tegrity by lighting, each in his own way, his own little candle of Christian living. For centuries Dame Fashion has ruled in the world of dress. Her scepter's sway, however, is not so haughtily autocratic as in previous years; in fact, she is tact itself, and now deftly subordinates her soaring instincts to the feminine needs of her court, for woman has asserted herself, and the intolerable, the uncomfortable, and the grotesque are looked upon askance. The fashion center of the world is Paris, but the competitive im. .portance of the United States makes it impossible to prophesy where the fashion center will be twenty-five years from now. When Paris-model garments were not available during 1940-1945, outstanding American designers began presenting styles which were equal in some cases to those of the fine tradition of France. It is a well-known fact that American designers cannot force people to wear something they do not like or want. In order to please their customers, fashion designers base their new crea tions on the demands made by the public. Designers, like other artists, travel to ob- serve people, in order to learn from first-hand observation the answers to questions constantly in their minds: Do women want evening gowns long or short, coats rich with fur or untrimmed? What color leads in consumer-preference now and will it continue to do so? Likewise, the questions uppermost in the retailer's mind are: Will it sell? \Vill it be reordered.? Therefore, create the demand and somebody will create the supply. That is the premise on which the SDS (Supply the Demand for the Supply) operates. The demand that the college and high school students of the SDS want to create is a demand for women's clothing that is stylish without being sensual, decent but not dowdy, that is modish and modest. They operate through "fashion caravans" which tour the schools of our country demonstrating the compatibility of good morals and good style. The SDS program has succeeded to some extent but it will need the support of every woman in order to make the 8 -Joyce Ann Edwards by a persistent demand for modest formals. campaign for modest attire a complete success. The influence of formals is significant in the fashion world today for new styles are often adopted first for evening wear. If a new fashion is accepted, day tim e dresses, sport clothes, bathing suits, and even lingerie soon reflect its influence. To forecast future housecoat styles or petticoats, designers also follow the lines or patterns of formals. If, by uprol)ting the source of an evil, we can elimina te that evil, then we can help to eliminate immodest dresses from the market Woman, in accordance with her dignity, is bound to respect her person and to adorn her body as befits her dignity. Fashions in themselves are good, but like many of our American fineries they are carried to extremes. Since Dame Fashion will always be a popular lady every woman and especially a Catholic woman must do her part to help her gain a popularity that is worthy of praise. -Pauline Siefert by JOANN To us Americans our country is a symbol of the best of everything. We like to say that our goods are the best quality, our soil the most fertile, our science most recent, and our people the most hospitable. Then whom else could America honor as patroness but the patron of patrons, Mary Immaculate. Somehow, from the very beginning, America seems to have been destined as Mary's Land. When Columbus sailed from Palos in 1492 his flagship bore the name Santa Maria. The first chapel to be erected in the new land was a shrine of Our Lady. St. Augustine, the first HAZLEWOOD white settlement was founded on September 8, 1565-the feast of Our Lady's birthday. November 8, 1760 saw Our Lady, under the title of her Immaculate Conception, hailed as the principal patroness of all possessions of the crown of Spain including those in the New World. Before this time a group of English Catholics, seeking freedom of worship, crossed the Atlantic in their small ship which they called Star of the Sea. To the bay, the river, and the site of their settlement they gave Mary's name. Later these place names were changed but the state in which 9 they built their homes IS still known as Maryland. The Franciscan missionaries laboring in California honored Our Lady by naming a mission and the surrounding small village Nuestra Senora, Reina de Los Angeles (Our Lady, Queen of Angels). Today we retain .but a fragment, namely, Los Angeles, of that impressive Spanish title. Saviour of the human race, was preserved exempt from all stain of original sin." It is a mark of the tender esteem in which American Ca tholics hold their Mother that they should desire tha t she be so honored. Throughout America, simple as well as elaborate spires raise their crosses to heaven in honor of Our Lady under one of her lovely titles. In 1846, the Bishops of the Sixth Provincial Council of Baltimore decided that Mary in her Immaculate Conception ought to be the logical patroness of the United States. Official recognition was sought and granted by Pope Pius IX in the following year. In 1849 the Seventh Provincial Council suggested to the Holy See that the Immaculate . Conception be defined as a dogma. Their desire was realized in 1854 when Pope Pius IX proclaimed that the Blessed Virgin M ary "in the first instant of her conception, by a singular privilege and grace gran ted by God, in view of the merits of Jesus Christ, the Every American Catholic should feel privileged to be born in such a great country under the special protection of so great a Queen. Mary is deeply interested in the welfare of her nation. She is the Captain who has yet to lose a battle. How could the Seat of Wisdom fail in matters of state? Surely no matter what storms lie ahead the Star of the Sea will not fail her people if only they trust in her guidance. So now at this fearful hour of shadows, we, the American people, cry to her who " cometh forth as the morning rising, fair as the moon, bright as the sun, and terrible as an army set in battle array." 10 A Har~ Gift 'Tis strange when you stop and think a while, About where you are, I mean, For God could have put you in any land And given you any scene. He could have put you where it's cold And you'd barely have all you'd need, Or near the Equator where it's hot, And you'd live by a primitive creed. You might have been a famous king Ruling for many years, Or just as well a lowly serf Bent through toil for his peers. Yes, 'tis good to stop and think, As you look at our country today, How rare is the gift God gave you When He placed you in the U. S. A. -Patricia Miller 11 An UnparalleJ phenomenon by In the early colonial days of our country, the English middle-class colonists who settled on the eastern shore of the North American continent were preoccupied with the idea of duplicating in the New World the life of the homeland, without the political, social, and economic handicaps that drove them across the Atlantic. Their ideals which formed the basis of a philosophy of a future nation have made that nation one of the most powerful and influential in the world. The extraordinary growth of this n ation from a small group of colonies in to one of the great nations of the world is without historic parallel. None of the nation's founders could possibly have foreseen the superstructure for which they were laying the foundation. And yet, during a brief century and a h alf there has arisen out of a most humble beginning this great commonwealth of states with a productive and consumptive capacity greater than that of any other country. Many factors have contributed to the phenomenal growth of our nation. The policy of isolationism, a great variety of natural resources, and free enterprise have played an importan t part. The policy of isolationism which 12 RITA SHERIDAN the founders of our nation adopted, not without little prudence and foresight, fostered the rapid growth and internal development of our country. Instead of meddling in foreign affairs America turned its back on the world and became absorbed in industrial development and the exploitation of the West. Before the turn of the century, however, these interests had led to the breakdown of the idea of isolation because the West had been settled and industry and agriculture were seeking foreign markets. The development of trade provided an opportunity for making friends as well as for an exchange of industrial goods. Even though the victory in the Spanish American War broke down still more the barriers of isolation we were still following to a certain extent a policy of keeping aloof from taking part in foreign affairs. During the first years of World War lour nation upheld a policy of neutrality until Germany's unrestricted submarine warfare forced it to enter the war. The fact that the Sen'a terefused to permit the United States to become a member of the League of Nations after the war proved further that our country was reluctant to give up its policy of isolationism. At the time of the outbreak of World War II, when the barriers of distance had been broken down by means of rapid communication, the people of the United States realized that it was no longer possible to remain unconcerned about the activities of foreign countries which were a menace to world peace. The aggressors in Europe had finally opened our eyes to the danger of non-participation in world affairs. As a result the United States entered the arena of world activities and has become a leading world power whose industries are advancing at a tremendous pace. Today the United States is considered the wealthiest nation. A nation's riches do not lie necessarily in large areal extent but rather in land rich in a variety of resources. In this the United States has no equal, especially in productive mineral resources favorably placed, the foundation of industrial development. The industrialization of our country, however, would not have been possible if people had not had the right of free enterprise. The right of equal opportunities for all is one of the most important criteria for a nation hoping to succeed. A nation without the good will of its citizens is not worthy to be called a nation. It is only a tool for the few who propose to control the world by force. The prestige which the United States has won for herself as a leading world power was won not so much by force as by the ideals fostered by the American people themselves. by JUDY RAHE There was a beginning. There was a beginning consisting of Indians, wilderness, and a wonderful wild air of freedom. The beginning was there for a long time, undisturbed. It was like wine in the cellar, waiting, waiting until the day when it would be brought out, rich and fragrant. The sun shone down on a land primitive and wild, and blessed it. Then the white men came. They came laughing and shouting and calling to one another in a strange language. They came hurting and killing with their thunder sticks. They came plundering and maiming, with their "witch doctor priests" trailing behind them to tell the Indians they must not kill, hurt, or plunder these strange people. They must love them and call them brothers. The white men came at first with 13 Then the world became aware of the richness of the melting pot. The best and worst of each country came to the new untried land, each giving his own special flavoring to the pot. Yes, they came-the victims of wars, the "political" fugitives, the traders, the lawyers, the shipbuilders, the poets and dreamers-all nationbuilders. Occasionally the pot boiled over, and the rich contents spilled over the ground, making the land much richer and more precious. But when an organized cooking method was adopted the pot began boiling slower and slower. Now the pot is watched carefully by its guardians. When undesirable ingredients try to ruin the flavoring of the pot, those ingredients are kept from it or taken out of it. The first Indians in our land so long ago would indeed be surprised at the strong flavor our pot has. They would be surprised, but perhaps they also would be proud, for the Indians long ago started the pot boiling with their own strong and good basic ingredients. Long live the contents of the Melting Pot! their heads in the sky, nut watching nor caring for the great wealth they trampled . underfoot. To the bewildered natives of this new land, they were sometimes wise men, sometimes fools, but almost always strange and tyrannical creatures. The new ingredients being added to the pot sometimes seemed to point to the hand of a careless and ignoran t cook. The men with their heads in the sky were followed by the men in the long robes who called themselves friends, however, these men, unlike the other white men, carried neither the thunder sticks nor came running at the people on their horses. These men wanted to be real friends with the Indians. They not only tried to give their ideas to the natives, but they learned from them also. Tentative young strands of friendship were finding their way across the new land. They were weaving their w ay slowly, and their p ath could be followed by the smiles and friendliness encountered in Indian villages across the exciting new territory. 14 America, :Jorgive me by They left the door to the telephone booth ajar and started back to the dormitory. It was a long walk today. "He knows now, but he won't help. What can I do, Len, what can I do?" "I won't say don't worry, 'cause I'm deep in thought myself." Silence again. It was a long walk. Students were on their usual way to classes, but everyone was enjoying a juicy tidbit of gossip-the latest thing. Upon reaching the residence hall, a group of fellow freshmen strode by. Ted tried his courage. "Hi, fellows A smirk, a shrug, but no reply. "Let's go in the room, Teddy." As Teddy shut the door behind them, he heard the lock click and screamed hysterically, "Len, Len, I didn't know . . . I didn't mean ROSEMARY TISSERAND ation day, so he could begin to get all the things he wished his benefactor to have. But Ted was different. All he knew of his parents was that their money came in and went out again just as fast. Those that knew Ted described him as " ... a spoiled boy with a little too much money, and not enough sense." Others saw him as a "real practical joker, who would do anything for a laugh." And that he would. In fact, that had been the very core of Ted's mischievous plan-a prank -maybe a contest. College life does hold a lot of contests. They may not all go by that name, but what one boy can do well, another will try to do better. It was only about three or four weeks ago that Ted had challenged Vic, a typical good-natured frosh, to come forth with a better scheme than he had to make the college sit up on its foundation and take notice. Oh, yes, he had a dilly. "0. K., Vic, I'll give you three weeks, fair enough?" "Surely, it won't take me that long!" As Vic strolled away, Ted grasped Len's arm. "Len, he can't top my idea. Let me tell you. I've already sent away for the ... Hey, no, this is too good 'to share " righ t now . You wait too, old pal. You wait too." And Ted did keep it to himself, After Len had calmed him down, Ted began to talk more sensibly and seriously. Len encouraged it, for they were buddies, and he knew how to handle Ted. They had been inseparable since high school days. Len was the more stable of the two. Len was studying pharmacy and would surely make a go of it. He had to, for there was the question of how his widowed mother would be paid back for her generosity. Len was already waiting for gradu- 15 which made the competition all the more exciting on campus. Everyone knew when the three weeks had passed, for on that appointed morn Ted was up early passing some sort of literature around. Ted was seldom seen getting parcels from home, but this last week he had received an enormous package, plus a questioning look from the college postmaster. All the students later congregated in the recreation hall with puzzled looks on their faces. Less puzzled now, though, after hearing the announcement of a meeting, than when they left their rooms in early morning. It sounded as if all of the dentists' drills in the State of Missouri were operating at onceall in the same room. "What do you make of it, Father Phil?" came from a voice in the crowd. "It's got me stumped, boys, how in heaven's name . . . ?" Ted and Len were late comers, but Ted seemed to know what it was all about. He turned to Len, and said in a low voice, "Well, I didn't mean to cause a mass meeting, but all the better. Let's see Vic jump this trick!" Len, still in the dark, stopped short and yanked Ted. "You mean you caused this meeting? What did you do, Ted?" But Father Phil gave Len his answer. He stood on the stage facing all gathered there. Father Phil's face was grave. He looked disturbed. "Boys, two things happened today that have greatly upset us all. Besides the pamphlets, newspapers and 'comrade' trash that has been 16 passed around among the boys, I had the experience of, or should I say, misfortune of, meeting an agent from the F.B.I. this morning. He has come to question one of our boys as to the possibility of his being a RED. The term hurts but the truth stands. Now, everyone go back to your classes, and burn the literature handed to you. No more will be said of this incident." Ted had stood in awe during Father's announcement. Only now could he speak. "Len, Len, what have I done!" "Calm down Ted, let's go outside. " Len led Ted over behind the "rec" hall. "O.K., Ted, all!" "Well, you know how I had to beat Vic. He had planned to pack some of the boys' things and mail them to their homes. I had to beat him. And, I thought this 'commie' stuff just couldn't miss. You know it is all the news now. It was thrilling to receive this information from Russia, and then passing it out and watching the boys' reactions. I can' t explain. I didn' t mean any harm." "It's not too late, but I'd surely go over to the Dean's office and clean the slate, right away." Without another word, Ted left Len and headed for the Dean's office. No one was in the outer office and noticing that the Dean was now occupied, probably with the F.B.I. agent, he patiently waited his turn. Not meaning to eavesdrop, Ted tried not to hear a voice roar, "If it is a practical joke, it won't get many laughs." back door, and address the school from the stage. I'll square things!" "This puts me in a position, Mr. Witt, quite a position. I'll call Ted Keller immediately, and we'll get to the bottom of it." " ... I will call Ted Keller immediately,-I will call Ted . . . " these words pounded and pounded in Ted's mind. "Ted, Ted, steady, boy, steady," Len said reassuringly when he came into the waiting room to see what was detaining Ted. As Ted spilled all that he had heard and feared in that brief interval, Len listened and advised. There was one alternative left-to telephone Dad. Ted's father was most unconcerned. He felt it was time for Ted to be a man, and it would be a man-sized job to restore peace on campus. After his father's refusal, Ted knew that outside help was unreliable in this case. What about inside help? No, Ted would be the sole character in the drama. Ted had good cause to be excited now; friends were disatpointed in him, teachers were disgraced by him, and parents had spurned him. And, God, how could He forgive him? As Ted and Len were searching and praying for a solution back in their room, Ted felt remorse, but with that feeling also came an idea. "Len, Len, I've got it; boy, I've got it!" Len stood by patiently, as usual, waiting for a volcano to erupt. "Look, Len, I'll put up a notice on the board tomorrow for a special meeting. You mingle with the boys, and make sure everyone comes. I'll slip into the meeting through the Len looked hard a t Ted. He would square things. Len never doubted that. When Ted woke up the next day, the sun was shining and he was feeling extremely well. The day would be long and eventful. He stayed in his room until assembly period. Then he sneaked out the back door, and ran over to the auditorium using the rear entrance, which led to the stage platform. Ted discreetly waited until everyone was sea ted. In the meantime the students became anxious about the purpose of such an abruptly-called assembly. They had been having too many of them lately. And Father Phil had said that the matter concerning the commie stuff was closed. Opening the curtain, Ted walked out to face his fellow students for the first time in days. His eyes first met those of Len. This was an incentive to begin. "After springing one trick on you, I hesitate to use another to explain the first. Standing here, I can only think of one word to speak my thoughts-AMERICA. "As a citizen of the U. S., and an heir of incomparable heritage, I possess part of America, both the part that my ancestors have built, and the part that our generation has contributed. Only a fool would destroy his own property. I am a practical joker, but not a fool! I am sorry. Forgive me, boys, Reverend Fathers, and God. Forgive me, America!" 17 The A.merican Way There is a road that's rugged, true, and strong. It winds past desert, lake, and mound To span a spacious land by oceans bound; A land whose engines echo liberty's gong, Whose toilers sing their soapbox campaign song And build their shrines for worship above red ground. Abundance dwells there safe; no need is found: No fear of persecution palls the throng. This road by "Minute-men" laid is rutted now From loads of freedom's riches wrongly used. Though muddy from war or dusty from prejudiced fray Its firm rock bed has yielded to no plough. Its course is clear; its milestones not confusedWorld culture massed has built this American Way. -Helen Hoffmann 18 by FRANCES TIETZ " . . . The little girl has now been missing for eighteen hours. She was last seen by her mother playing in the snow in her back yard. Authorities have called in the Forest Reserve to aid in the search in the woods adjacent to the house. All local businessmen, firemen, and policemen have volunteered and together with the State police are canvassing the woods . . . " . The buzz of conversation following the morning newscast held overtones of excitement, sympathy, pity, and morbid curiosity. The roadside diner was filled with its usual customers of truckdrivers and and a few tourists who began to weigh the possibilities of finding the lost five-year-old in the mountainous woods. The waitress asserted her belief that no one could survive eighteen hours in this weather. A strong, hulking man said he had two Ii ttle girls of his own and if he didn't have to drive a truck he would join in the hunt. with a smile of grim satisfaction. "While they're turning over every stone looking for a kid they'll forget me maybe," he thought. "Lucky bread!" He stopped eating for a moment and asked the waitress for a morning paper. He scanned the headlines and skimmed over the accompanying article on the missing child. "They're looking for her near Rockville and I'm going about twenty miles from there so I shouldn't be too close to the excitement." Glancing down the page he came across another article of interest to him: 2 CONVICTS FLEE STATE PENTENTIARY. "She's already pushed me out of the headlines," he mused. "Well, kid, more power to you." He gulped down the rest of his coffee, paid the cashier, and left. He turned up his collar against a light snow and headed fora back road. "Nasty weather for a hike but I've only got ten miles to go," he . thought. The snow -covered road curved ahead of him and wound upwards ever so slightly. As the dry, cold air of a high altitude penetrated his clothes he thrust his hands deeper into his pockets and pressed his chin down close to his chest. He thought of the hot black coffee in the diner and wished for a thermos bottle "Five'll get you ten she's dead when they find her," came a voice above the general murmur. However, there were no "takers" because he bluntly expressed what all felt to be true. Apart from all this excitement and speculation sat a man whose concern was not for the little girl but for himself. He heard the news 19 full of it. The thought of it warmed him a little. He looked in the field to his left and saw a rabbit skimming noiselessly on top of the snow and wondered if he were running away from something too. The snow blinded his eyes and he dropped his head to his chest again. The glare and the intense cold made his eye-lids feel heavy, his brain drowsy. He half closed his eyes and then angrily jerked his head up to clear it. Suddenly he stopped in his tracks! Through the trees he could see a car approaching a bend in the road ahead-a car bearing the black and yellow markings of the State police! Thinking quickly he turned and ran off the road into the woods on his right. He stopped when out of sight from the road and watched for the car to go by. He shivered a little more than the cold 'might have warranted. The car stopped! "They must have rounded the bend before I was out of sight," he muttered to himself. "The snow is coming down so lightly they'll pick up my tracks. I'll make a run for it." He started in the opposite . direction of the road, half walking, half running. He thought of the footprints he was leaving behind and cursed the snow and the slippery footing it afforded on the rocky ground. Then suddenly another pair of tracks crossed his. "An out-of-season hunter, a poacher," he thought. He walked in these tracks looking for a place to turn off. After about a hundred yards he saw a depression in the ground, a deep gully off to the left. He turned around, and, moving 20 carefully, walked backwards to the gully and slipped into it. He looked around for a way to get back to the road when suddenly his eyes came upon a small form curled up in the corner of a crude shelter. It was a little girl, not more than five years old! He was stunned for a moment; then his mind went back to the diner and the radio announcement, " ... the State Police are canvassing the woods." "Those cops are probably looking for her, not me. I'd better get out of here before they find both of us." He started to move down the gully when a sudden thought arrested him. "They must be looking for me, she was lost twenty miles from here. They don't expect her to be here." He looked at her again. "You know, kid, you and I are alike in one way. People are looking for us. But one lucky thing is they'll look a lot harder for you than for me. Right now you're more important than the President of the United States." More important than the President? At the present moment she was. Thousands of dollars were being spent on search planes and helicopters. The Red Cross had set up a relief station for the search party. Professional men whose time was worth five dollars an hour tramped through the snow until their limbs were numb. And all for a little bundle of humanity of negligible dimensions. But therein is the secret of the concern of the populace for this child whom most did not even know. She was a person, an individual who could feel the bite of the cold whether blue blood or red blood ran in her veins. There were no rewards posted for finding the child; no rewards, that is, if you discount the welcome in a frightened child's eyes or the hysterical joy of a fearful mother. saw them going past, still following the hunter's path. "I walked backwards to this hole to throw them off the track and now they'll never think to come in here," he reasoned bitterly. He felt her hand; it was stiff from long exposure, probably frostbitten or frozen he decided. He thought angrily of the man willing to bet she would be found dead and wished for a moment he were back in the diner to plant his fist firmly on the man's jaw. " If she's not dead now she soon will be," he thought. "Well, kid, . you're going to cost me my freedom." He stood up and looked towards the receding figures of the policemen. "Hey! Over here! The little girl!" To a certain extent the convict could sense these ideas, but uppermost in his mind was the thought of escape. To him the little girl was important because the search for her heightened his chances of slipping out of the dragnet laid for him. Once more he turned his back on her and started up the gully. Something forced him to stop again and look at her. Her face was blue with cold and the lightly falling snow was beginning to cover her tiny body. "Those cops should be here by now," he thought. "Maybe they'll find her." He looked up and 21 Taps The soft and bitter notes of the bugle fall on the green fields. Those who sleep here, rest in honored glory. The last faint rays of the setting sun stain blood-red the silent crosses, And Old Glory descends slowly from her standard. How well these have known that flag! The beauty of it snapping before them in parade, The sheer glory of Old Glory, torn and soiled But carried through blood and tears to victory. How well they know, they who rest here. Do they sleep? A voiceechoes down the halls of Time. "Concord Bridge, Bunker Hill, Yorktown," proudly it calls. "Bull Run, Lookout Mountain, and Gettysburg," The voice is crying now. "Fallen Timbers, the Big Horn, the Alamo, The Marne, Okinawa, Heartbreak Ridge," Freedom shouts defiantly. The list is long and many the voices who answer, "We do not rest when liberty stands in peril. Oh, hear and know, you free menEternal sacrifice, unending vigilance-these the price of freedom. We have not died in vain so long as there be liberty." -Joann Hazlewood 22 by BARBARA "I would like you to meet my father," I say. The person to whom I am speaking sees before him a short, stocky man in his late forties. He notices his small features, hazel eyes, and thin lips. Then he becomes aware of his friendly but slightly arrogant manner. He does not appear to be outstanding, as indeed he isn't but there is something about him that is different. Let us go back to my father's childhood. He was born on October 25, 1904 in the Bohemian section of eastside, New York. His parents who were of Bohemian descent were of the lower middle class and a fine, strong Catholic family. They were strict; but my father, who was the baby of the family, probably received a little more attention than the others. SISKA continual contact with other boys on hikes and at camp helped him. He had other interests, too. During his two years in high school he was greatly interested in art and architecture. After he quit school, my father held many jobs. He was never fired but he would walk out if he didn't like his boss or fellow workers. He had become a very independent individual. At about this time my father became very much interested in singing as a career. He took lessons from several teachers and was thinking of going to Europe to study when he met my mother. He ga ve up his career to marry her and a year later I was born. My first impression of my father was that he was very strict and an authority to be instantly and unquestionably obeyed. As I grew older and my timidity shrank, I began the inevitable. There seemed to be no question that my father could not answer. If he did not know it right away he would get the dictionary or some other reference book and look it up. The simplest interrogation could start this search and a lecture at any time. My father may not have finished high school but he has read It was a great shock to him when his mother died. As he was always a sensitive child this made him more shy and reticent. A few years later his father died and his older sister took care of the family. He was greatly spoiled by his sister but that did not mean life was easy. He had to work after school and share in the household duties. My father began to ,lose his shyness in his youth when he became interested in the Boy Scouts. His 23 and studied enough, 0.:1 his own, to match any college graduate. My father is a very talented man. Although he did not make singing his career it has become one of his main hobbies. He has sung with the "Schola Cantorum" under T oscanini and he now belongs to the "Down Town Glee Club" which gives two concerts a year at Carnegie Hall. Among his other hobbies is art. He has painted several pictures and they now occupy a place in our living room. He likes to work with his hands and has carved many things out of wood. His chief work in this medium was a model of a Clipper ship which took him two years to complete. At one time he thought of becoming a professional photographer because his work in that field has been very popular. Many of his pictures have travelled all over the country in the salon competitions. He is an organizer. He has been in boy scouting since his youth and was leader of our parish troop for eight years. Now he is a member of the board of directors of the Glee Club, and he is editor of the Camera Club paper. His newest hobbies are cooking and public speaking. He has already been very successful in these two widely separated endeavors. By nature and temperament my father is an artist. He sees be:1Uty 24 and a challenge in everything. In reality he is a draftsman, not by chance, but by circumstances which arise from family responsibilities. Given a chance he could make a success of any of his hobbies but he loses interest in them when he tries to make anyone of them a business. Mv father is a man who hates petty things and he includes sacrificing beauty and pleasure for money a petty thing. Although he loves fine things he prefers wealth of spirit . to tangible wealth. He is a good man but all his life , he was plagued by a violent temper. About four years ago he decided that he must control it. To my knowledge, he has not lost his temper since that time. This is an example of the self control which is part of my father's creed. He believes that a person is what he makes of himself and that the individual alone can make himself happy or unhappy. He is as much at home with people as he is content by himself. He has many friends and is quite popular in any group he joins. In summary, I would say that my father is a self-made man. From a humble beginning he is reaping a harvest of wealth of spirit. Much more could be said about him. This is only an introduction to my father. The Way of [ulinary Art Indians helped them to make their bread in crude but effective ways, To cook wild turkeys and cranberry sauce and to grow and grind their maize. These were the Pilgrim mothers. Saturday morning they baked their bread to last a whole week's span, And fruit-filled pies and varied cakes and cookies to fill the can. These were our great-grandmothers. But now they help to earn the bread and they buy all that is needed, For cooking, once the finest art, has to the can opener ceded. Are these our modern mothers? -Patricia Miller 2/i An American- by RACHEL The skeptical foreign student's definition of an American, "a walking dollar bill," -is usually, and quite understandably, considered an insult by Americans. But maybe the foreign student's definition isn't so far from the true meaning after all. It might be that a closer look at what composes the common ordinary dollar bill might prove to both-American and foreignerthat the definition is not a bad one at all. The American dollar bill is symbolic of the hopes, ideals, and traditions of the American people. It symbolizes what a good American should be. On examining a dollar bill we find two seals represented on the side opposite the one which pictures George Washington. These two seals are actually the two sides of onethe Great Seal of the United States. The one on the right, the front or obverse of the Seal, is the mo&t commonly known, the Great Seal proper. It appears on all important documents of State, on military officers' caps, and on most American embassy and consulate buildings. 26 WEST On the left appears the reverse of of the Seal, and this appears only on the dollar bill, for no die has ever been cut for this side of the Seal as a national emblem. The devices and inscriptions printed there express the most fundamental concepts in the minds of the founders of our American union. What were those concepts, and how are they portrayed through the Great Seal on the dollar bill? The first of the concepts was union. On the front of the seal this idea is represented by a constellation of 13 stars representing the 13 united original colonies, by the 13 bars on the shield and the plain field of unity which they support, by 13 arrows held in the left talon of the eagle, and by the 13 letters of E pluribus unum, inscribed on a scroll held in the beak of the eagle. The unfinished pyramid on the reverse side also is made up of 13 courses of stone. The words, E pluribus unum, "one of many," are probably the most familiar Latin words to all Americans. This motto is used not our undertakings." This inscription, by the way, also has 13 letters. The pyramid itself is the symbol of the nation's strength and duration. Beneath it are the words, N ovus ordo seclorum, which, translated, signify the beginning of a new era with the founding of the new nation. Unfortunately, the inventors of the seal did not find it possible to cut this motto down to 13 letters. The symbols of a government are always carefully chosen to express most clearly the patriotic sentiments of the leading citizens. A good American would therefore make these symbols the symbols of his own devotion to the ideals of the nation as a whole. The ideals would then be his, and the dollar bill would truly be the most symbolic emblem of a good American. only by the U. S. government to express the unity created by the federal union but it is also the state motto of Wisconsin and Michjg\l~. The American bald eagle pictured on the front of the seal is our national emblem, the ' traditional symbol of power, liberty, and independence. The olive branch which it holds in its right talon is the symbol of peace, another important concept of the founders of our country. The idea of guidance by Divine Providence is expressed on the obverse by the glory encircling the constellation of stars and on the reverse by the all-seeing eye of Providence ( also surrounded by glory) above the unfinished pyramid. Above the eye are the words, . Annuit coeptis, "He has prospered by JOANN Hills were made so that men, looking up, might rest their eyes from gazing into great distances. The hills themselves are rugged and dark with their flanks covered with tall white pines. They never speak but stand humped against the sky, holding within themselves ageless wisdom. Their faces are always lifted toward heaven. Thunderstorms hide behind them to rush HAZLEWOOD forth in all their fury with no warning. The hilltops are covered with the i r characteristic mountain pansies and ferns. There are terraced-like fields covered with wild strawberry plants. The berries are tiny but deep scarlet in color with a sweetness and flavor all their own. Shagbark hickories, oaks, and tall pines dwell eternally with the clap 27 of thunder, the unsoftened beat of rain, the glare of sunlight, and the rush of the wind. High and slender they stand, bending only when the tempest forces them to yield. Clear springs leave the earth here and tumble downward in many a refreshing stream overhung with wild grapevines, covered with lacy bloom in summer and loved by foxes and racoons in autumn. On a spring day the wild black bees buzz until sunset in the rosy trumpets of the mountain laurel. The hills are wise, and good and kind. By observing the people who have lived on their slopes and in the valleys below and by gazing heavenward for centuries they have learned the secrets of time which they will teach to all who will but listen. The people of the hills lead a . simple but happy life, undisturbed by th~ world that lies outside their kingdom. Their needs do not include movies, T.V., or the latest model car. The man of the hills sees things as they are in reality. His sense of values is one born of thinking for himself and never blindly accepting whatever is suggested to him. From this follows a certain inner dignity which is the great heritage of the hills. Most of the mountain people originate from English or Scotch settlers who in the early days of our land brought with them the culture of Eliza- bethan times. In their speech they preserved the courtesy, grace, and quaint mannerisms of their forefathers and with the ballads which they inherited from them this people continue to make the mountains echo. In addition they brought the methods of farming practiced in the highlands of Scotland. I twas natural for them upon reaching their new land to look again to the friendly hills. Crossing the fertile lowlands of Virginia, they tame at last to the Appalachian foothills. There they have dwelt for a long time, independent, proud of their traditions, while securing a meager living. In a day and age that is highly mechanized they have retained the arts of spinning, weaving, and dyeing. To them alone belong the ways of life of a forgotten time. A mountain man rarely leaves his steep acres except to market his tobacco crop and buy the few necessities that he cannot wrest from his hills. He is taciturn where his deeper feelings are concerned but no one can be gayer at any celebration. There is something about the hills and their people that finds its way into one's heart. When one has tasted the springs and fruits of the hills and known their wild beauty and peace, .the hills will call him forever and sometimes there can be no answer but to return. J J 28  tn by MARTHA PICTOR "I don't care what you say, I'm not going to sit here all my life like the rest of you and rot away!" Kay's voice ended on a final high note as she completed her defiant speech. It had not been her nature to be so argumentative with her brother, but today was just different. It all started when Dad said: "Well, kids, with this dry weather, no wheat, and bad corn prospects, -I guess we'll all have to cut down on spending this year. I hate to have to say it, hut next year will b~'better I'm sure." Kay's voice rose in immediate protest. "But Da-ad, it's the beginning of senior year and there's pictures and dances and class trips, and I'll be needing lots of new things. Oh, why do we have to live on a farm anyway?" "But it won't, I know it won't," Kay wailed. "Aw Kay-cut it. What's wrong with you anyway? Nobody asked you to go begging, did they?" came from Jim. "It's just like Mother said-if we work together, we'll come out on top together, so let's do it. Now calm down, Kay," Dad said with finality. But Kay refused to calm down and the scene continued until she left the table declaring that she wanted no part of farm life, that she hated it and intended to leave as soon as possible. She'd go to. the city where one didn't depend on anything so stupid as the weather for a living. This was quite a surprise to the family for Kay had always seemed quite happy and had never been given to sudden outbursts like this. Attributing it to growing up, they decided she would calm down soon. But it did not work out that way, for Kay's rebellion mounted all morning. Mom turned to sit down just then and she vainly tried to soothe her little chicken's ruffled feathers. "Honey, it's not so bad as all that. Don't get worked up about it now; everything will work out." Calmly her mother's voice continued assuring her that if they would all work together they would come out on top as always. Noon-ah, why had it ever come! Lunch....,...-when talk drifted to Senior Ball and Sue asked if she was get-. ting q new formal! Kay's second outburst amazed her friends as 29 much as the first had amazed the family. One o'clock class-well, anyway she held her tongue this time! Perhaps because. a reprimand from the gym teacher was justly due. The entire afternoon was one of brooding. It took several sharp nudges to arouse her when the school bus stopped to let her off. Then, while doing her chores her thoughts drifted once more to the sight of herself, well to-do, lending her helping hand to her less fortunate family. Now, broken from her thoughts by a sidewise look from Jim, Kay brought all her vengeance down on her brother's unsuspecting head. When she had exhausted her tongue and could think of nothing more to say, Jim returned her volley of words. "Well, aren't you the smart one! Who said you had to stay here anyway? Go on, leave, if that's how you feel; it's better for all of us. But keep still to Mom and Dad, will you? They've got enough to think about. Say what you like to me. It won't influence me anyway because this is where my roots are and here 1 stay." Abruptly Kay turned and left, eyes and ears both smarting from Jim's rebuke. All through supper and dishes Kay kept her thoughts to herself, following her brother's counsel and not saying a word. She soon went up to do her homework and then went to bed. After a restless night with mixed dreams of cows and cities, Kay awoke with the feeling that today would be another bad day. Her first impression proved correct, for while there was no one thing she could lay her finger on and say "This is it," things were simply not going right. This afternoon as she got off the bus, her feelings were practically the same as yesterday. But when she came to the door she found a note tacked there: Kay, Dad has had an accident. Jim and I are at the hospital. We'll be home as soon as possible. Can't tell too much yet. Pray for him. The key is behind the flowerbox; start chores. Mother Kay was POSItIve that if Dad were not a farmer he wouldn't have had any accident on top of all the other bad luck. When Mom and Jim returned, Kay learned from her mother that his condition was serious, compound leg fracture. "A few more bills, and Dad laid up for weeks-well, that's all we need now." In the long days that followed the accident, Mrs. Morton and Jim received little sympathy from Kay, although she did accept the added duties without comment. Happy, sweet, and lovable Kay w as now a cold, and bitter young woman who made herself and those around her unhappy. Despite all adverse circumstances, ,lirr., with the help of his neighbors, succeeded in harvesting the forty-acre corn crop and sowed the wheat. As they were returning to their own unfinished work, Mr. Morton waved them off with tears in his eyes and a lump in his throat. He 30 had helped others before, but only now he realized how much it meant to have one's own work done without having to repay a single day of it. with his own thoughts. Dad's were of his family and friends and their kindness during the past months. Mom's were of Dad but mainly of Kay-what could be done for her? Jim's were' of Kay too-how could one understand sisters? Through the last days of fall, someone was always there to help Jim prepare for winter so that when the snow fell, the Morton farm was just as ready as any of the others. But Kay's, it was as if a door had suddenly been opened, the dark brooding thoughts of the past few months were swept away by a shower of fresh ones. She recalled the day before the accident-how she had boiled over and at nothing, why she had just let one mean mood develop into so much, just by dwelling on it. Dad's leg was healing fast now and there remained just one big cloud on the horizon-Kay. She had continued to be an aloof stranger, rather than a member of the family. Even at school she was no longer popular but just an outsider. Her moodiness had caused her to lose frie'nds. Now, amid the solemnity of the Mass she felt appreciation for the help of their neighbors during these past months and realized that she really did love the farm. Perhaps they didn't have all the money in the world, but they had always lived comfortably, and the neighborliness of the farmers was worth more than money could ever buy. Neither did antIcIpation of Christmas bring any change. Rather, she seemed moodier than usual and not interested in Christmas at

... THE FIORETTI 2020 THE FIORETTI 2020 The Student Literary Journal of The Fioretti Spring 2020 CHRISTOPHER BRAKE COLLEEN R. SCHENA SARAH WITCHEY ELIZABETH SEXTON Content Editors WHAT IS THE FIORETTI? CONNOR MILLER Art, Design, & Layout Editor PROFESSOR NATE LOGAN Faculty Advisor Watercolor flower images from thedesignest.net The Fioretti is the Marian University literary journal founded in 1943. The word Fioretti comes from a collection of short stories and popular legends about the life of St. Francis of Assisi (patron of Marian University and the Sisters of St. Francis of Oldenburg), titled Fioretti di San Francesco dAssisi. The word itself means, Little Flowers. This is our collection of work or Little Flowers by the students of Marian University over the 2019-2020 school year. We hope you enjoy this edition of Marian Universitys Fioretti. TABLE OF CONTENTS POETRY autumn lessons Joel Kelley Hope Faith Morgan Crown of Creation Kyle Stein The One that Starts Zach Cleary I Thirst Luke Brown As we Camino Joel Kelley Man in His Arrogance Eric Hvidston Mortality Ariyanna Casey The Press Faith Morgan 12 Years a Slave Erynne Pope Howd It Feel Kyle Stein Trembling Hands Clare Haenni All I Hear is Rain Maura Domogalik Garden Colleen Schena The Calm Before the Storm Kyle Stein hickville mansion Lauren Milligan A Word on a Hand Clare Haenni The City of Dreams Erynne Pope No One Knows Tasha Herbert ed. Faith Morgan I Have Known Peace Behold Your Mother poem written in the evening on a digital sticky note Suffocating at the Carwash Sweet Smile, Sweet Smile This is Colour Moonlight Sonata 02 03 04 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 Colleen Schena Luke Brown 24 25 Nicholas Rivelli Steven Conry Faith Morgan Maura Domogalik Kyle Stein 26 27 28 29 30 MEMOIR A Rosebud out of the Ashes Elizabeth Sexton SHORT STORY Sunday Best Lauren Milligan The Still Lake Ragan Williams Vapor on the Mirror Keith C. Hart The Devils Storm Chris Brake SHORT FICTION PLAY How far the apple falls Joel Kelley Cat and Mouse Eric Hvidston ARTWORK Interactive Lines #1 Clare Haenni Martin Luther King Jr. Elizabeth Bath Adventurous Colleen Schena Interactive Lines #2 Clare Haenni Untitled Photo Grace Harmon Butterfly Maria Wellman Tea House Yvette Clemons Interactive Lines #3 Clare Haenni Roses of Notre Dame Colleen Schena The Alleyway Connor Miller A Night in Paris Elizabeth Bath Interactive Lines #4 Clare Haenni Nature Sealed Colleen Schena Cathedral Vaults Connor Miller Spider Maria Wellman Untitled Photo Grace Harmon Personal Palette Clare Haenni Vaults in the Round Connor Miller Curve Tree Maria Wellman To the Heavens Connor Miller Cambridge Canal Connor Miller 31 38 39 40 45 50 56 62 63 64 66 67 68 70 72 73 74 76 78 79 80 82 84 85 86 88 90 92 POETRY autumn lessons by Joel Kelley gleaning space, leaves score and sweep leaping from perches in birches and oaken places; all eyes shower in resplendent fall sweaters awaken from hibernations, bare souls seek sanctuary into irrational tendencies aspirations glazed on pottery in fall apples transition slowly from go to stop the time ripens hard-learned lessons, simple equations: scab = kneecap + a fall expectation shifts, ex-relationships enkindle passionate decay; as evening chills, sparks of once-leaves pepper the air with fall hesitation haunts hearts like breaths; third chances and quickly buried acorns share this venerable wisdom wait during fall a Red Flyer, pumpkin-laden, pulled under crumbling canopies; nave, happy until shoe meets root: Joel, you must learn fall. Hope by Faith Morgan Watch as she sings glory to her king Watch as she yells for the gates of hell will not prevail Listen to her voice For in the tears she dares to rejoice Strength is her covering Her hands remain at the plow When darkness is hovering She witnesses to the souls to keep her vow Courage is her way Her feet refuse to stumble When heaviness cracks within to sway She bends the knee and is humbled Faith is her hope Her mind untarnished When war detangles her coat She walks in truth fully garnished Watch as she sings glory to her king Watch as she yells for the gates of hell will not prevail Listen to her voice For in the tears she dares to rejoice There is hope within the noise 2 3 Crown of Creation by Kyle Stein Father, Words fail me. Truly, I have none left to give; Every single word I have written Has already found its home in her heart. Words cannot describe this fire within me; This unrelenting desire to give, As if everything I have touched Wanted to be shared with her. Funny how the woman who waits for no one Would be the one to teach me the virtue of patience. But I would wait a thousand lifetimes, gladly, If thats what it would take to be her Man. She does not deserve to be half loved anymore; Away with partial truths and half-hearted lies. She deserves a full, true, and honest Love. And where I fall short, God provides. Drawing forth the magnanimous shout of my soul, I proclaim His greatness with a humble plea: To serve, provide, protect, defend, And love unconditionally. Father, I thank You for Your gracious gift, Your finest creation, its true. Continue to form me into the Man I must be, To Love her and to Love You. Do not let me fail, I cannot do this without You. Amen. She is not mine. She is not anyones. She is not something to be had As if she were an object to be used. No, She is Gods gift to the world; Something to be beheld and adored. She is a font of endless wonder, Dripping with beauty and grace. Not owned, nor would I wish to own her; Its her freedom that calls me to something more. It will take every ounce of me to Love her, And yet every inch of my body calls for such a task. 4 5 The One that Starts by Zach Cleary I am life I am hope I am the change that the world needs I stand between happiness and despair I am birth I am destruction I am what causes the world to turn I cause the cycle of life You are new You are old You are the change that causes change You bring forth the real change in the world You are dreams You are memories You are the vision the world strives for You bring forth dreams into reality We are new beginnings We are the end of life We are the push in tradition Yet I am the one that starts I Thirst A poem written by Luke Brown from the perspective of Jesus Behold this Heart which loves so much and yet is so little loved. - Words of Jesus to St. Margaret Mary Behold my Sacred Heart on fire, Burning with intense desire To draw all souls into my love, That they may live with me above. But my dear creatures do me spurn, And unto worldly loves they turn, Living life in idle laughter, Wholly heedless of hereafter. They seek to fill their hearts in vain. Their search for comfort ends in pain, Since love of Goods intemperate Just makes their thirst grow desperate. Then are they enslaved to lust, The god in which they chose to trust. They live this life no longer free And spend the next apart from me. On this account, does my heart break, But I mourn not for my own sake. If only they turned back to me, How truly happy they would be. Since my love is their true desire, Their thirst is for that holy fire, With which no worldly love compares. O let them come and make it theirs! Please pray that all to me do turn, That they might not in Hades burn, But live instead with me above, United in eternal love. 6 7 As we Camino by Joel Kelley along Portuguese streets through smiling roses, you left me; those pink and yellow bystanders who never tell, and you never realize: you left me behind. As we traveled hallowed paths through somber villages who never told, so you never realized, I needed a friend; as we, somber, followed trails through hallowed villages, pain in my heel exploded into roses; I needed a friend but you didnt; my achilles exploded like roses, the misshapen branch silently supported me because you didnt you didnt know how; a misshapen branch my only support, my pace too sleepy, as summer retreats into fall; yes, you didnt know how to care for anyone, not even yourself; Man in His Arrogance by Eric Hvidston In the beginning, there was darkness. And the Universe spoke. But the Word fell on arrogant ears. So the Wise Men speak for the Universe, To survive you must listen. But the Word fell on arrogant ears. We have much to learn in order to hear it To survive you must listen. And now the Earth cries, but we are ignorant We have much to learn in order to hear it Humble yourself with the truth And now the Earth cries, but we are ignorant In truth, never worthy of the interposition of a deity Humble yourself with the truth And the Arrogant Man thought himself some great work In truth, never worthy of the interposition of a deity Go now, great work, and find yourself a worthy goal my feet pass too slowly, like sun falling behind hills, we were separated ground from sky you too distant to care for anyone but yourself, my heart blistered like feet; we were separated petals from dead roses you too distant, me, two kilometers behind, heart and feet blistered pink, face falling like footsteps, me, five kilometers behind, hauling my stuffed, yellow pack, face falling like raindrops: you left me. 8 9 Mortality by Ariyanna Casey Time on earth is only precious to Those who lack it And To those whose life was rejected Once lost, its never found or restored Its value undermine And its being forgotten A person who dares to waste time Rejects the value of life and Accept death as if it was what God intended for us to dwell in Their life becomes a cry for help because They value only themselves and their bad deeds, as if forgetting mortality Once dead, their legacy decays And their existence on earth fades Along with their body Time on earth is only precious to Those who acknowledge it Valuing the uncertainty of it It is true that the good life is only denied by Those who do not understand it Because they cannot comprehend what may happen if they accept Mortality 10 The Press by Faith Morgan Preach he the word For the kingdom is pressed The sick, the needy, tormented have come Saints of the most high dare not rest The darkness never targets color Hold the child Comfort the mother Raise the shield Strengthen the brother For the devourer will not regress Preach ye the word For the kingdom is pressed Can you hear the cries of war People crawling to a locked door Nails scraping the rugged shores Left to hear Gods voice no more No hope of success Preach he the word For the kingdom is pressed Stand firm, tall, sure Remember your vow to the Lord Run with violent hearts And strengthened minds Plaster the good news on every wall Truth divine For there is little time to jest Preach ye the word For the kingdom is pressed 11 12 Years a Slave Where every historical figure is white on each page. With no thought for black students who refuse to engage by Erynne Pope Filled with rage. I wish you could see my invisible chains, My mannerisms, my biases, forever engrained. You talk white Is that your real hair? Yes, I have diction and why do you care? Why are your gums black? Whys your hair look like that? Umm, thats just how they are and Just put on a hat. Chained to the system Chained to routine Chained to the same Chained in a white world Chained in my brain Stripped of my identity. Stripped of reality. Stripped of my heritage. Stripped of who Im now proud to be. My thoughts Whirring and twirling A black girl in a white world In a class full of white students In a room full of successful white higher ups In classrooms each with a white educator In a society where white is right, Black is wack, and Latino es no bueno, Chained to a white education. Chained to a white presentation. Chained to a white representation. Who am I? Who am I? Who am I? Growing up in a public white education system can teach you so much. Where peers use their privilege as a crutch. Where my hair, my skin, my jewelry is used for fashion as a clutch. Who am I? Where I walk the halls with kids who can say n*gga The halls where white students can pull the trigger Who am I? Chained to be used for demonstration. Chained to be used for presentation. Chained to be used for representation. Trained to alter my annunciation. Trained to alter my presentation. Tired of being the representation. Tired of giving my explanation. Exhausted with my whitewashed education. I wish you could see my invisible chains. - erynne pope Without consequence. 12 13 Howd It Feel by Kyle Stein Howd it feel when you put the Sun out of business With that shining smile of yours? And the way you looked down afterwards Like you were bashful of your own brilliance. Howd it feel when you put the stars in the sky With each and every twinkle of your eye? Setting the Northern Lights ablaze With your magnetic aesthetic. Howd it feel when you created the ocean From the stormy seas within your soul? The only place you ever found deep enough to hide in With a subtle blue hue that could only be from you. Howd it feel when you knew I was yours; The way you set fire to my soul? Making my heart pace about the room Hoping to share a dance with yours once more. Trembling Hands by Clare Haenni Oh treacherous brain Thinking thoughts youll never say Mean things, sad things Dont give too much away Oh soft heart You knew from the start It would only lead to ruin But you gave in anyway Oh crooked mouth Smiling when things go south Trying to soften the blow So he wont go crying home Oh trembling hands Never to be held again Now grip the steering wheel This will take some time to heal Howd it feel, Love, when you read my words Knowing they were yours alone? How I etched your name into this side of paradise In semi-permanent poetic ink. I know how I felt when I fell in your love; The first fantasy of my life that ever felt true. And how the fact you existed at all was ridiculous; Tell me, Love, howd it feel to you? 14 15 All I Hear is Rain by Maura Domogalik An alarm is blasting through the air, and all I hear is rain. Voices ring from way downstairs, and all I hear is rain. Tap water drips into the sink, and all I hear is rain. Food is chewed and dishes clink, and all I hear is rain. Hangers scrape, clothes pushed aside, and all I hear is rain. Find something to wear outside, because of all the rain. Church bells clang and dead eyes stare. Steps are heavy, music blares, but all I hear is rain. Dressed in black with faces numb, they highlight all the pain. Grief is loud and screaming out, but all I hear is rain. 16 Garden by Colleen Schena Something about the way you look at me Makes my heart flutter and stop all at once The sparkle in your eyes makes me self-conscious And the smile that tugs on your lips makes me forget The way you gage for my reactions And tailor your puns to make me smile The way you let me into your garden heart And showed me your favorite roses It makes me wonder what youll feel like If your eyes still sparkle And youll still weave your laughs to mine When I show you all my thorns. 17 The Calm Before the Storm by Kyle Stein All around me is endless ocean Without sign of direction to my fore Only the wake at my aft to keep me company; A reminder that I sail onwards into the night. Before me lies the placid sea; Little waves lap at the side of my ship Like tender kisses from the tide As the night envelopes me in its arms. The sky is replete with darkness As storm clouds lay heavy overhead. I am led on only by the scattered light Cast forth from the pallid face of the Moon. My vessel creaks softly below me; Its long and tired body groaning for rest. The mast reaches out towards an unforgiving sky As its sails lie still and empty without wind. hickville mansion by Lauren Milligan tires tread and scratch the road, tracking gravel into the crabgrass all the way up to your hickville mansion. doors slam and fingers pry, the smell of alcohol leaks from my pores, while i hide beside your hickville mansion. teeth barred and words slurred, theres blood on my tongue; a pregnant pause, a babe is in the trashcan outside your hickville mansion religious ladies in denim skirts, asking for a moment of prayer but you escape into your hickville mansion. yellowing flowers peel off the wall, threatening exposure; you cant hide within the walls of your hickville mansion. cant hear the ignorance but cant stand to be around it either, i guess its time to move out of your hickville mansion. I am alone and without direction; Without compass or starlight to guide me. Yet here I rest, in the calm of the storm, Alone with my Love: the Lady of the Sea. Whatever happens next is beyond me. Wherever I may end up, only God knows; The storm comes towards me all the same But I know I will weather it as I have before. So I brace myself, rigging in hand, Anchored firmly in my place; I am sailor borne for a relentless sea; I will not fail my destiny. 18 19 A Word on a Hand by Clare Haenni She wrote so much on her hands it scarred Her skin absorbed the ink and now the veins run Blue Purple Orange Visible under the delicate, paper thin membrane That keeps their inside organs from being outside organs The words that made up little reminders Flowed through her system Pumped through her heart Word after word after word But they got stuck Caused a clog The overexcited organ beating faster and faster Until it stopped The people pierced her heart, took a look inside And the ink flowed out in a kaleidoscope of colors Spurting until there was nothing left And she picked herself back up And wrote a word on her hand 20 The City of Dreams by Erynne Pope New York. Manhattan, Crowd, SoHo sidewalks. Manhattan streets. Panhandlers, Mugger, Bracing, Street violence, Fearsome lethality. Delighted. Joyful. Reality. Embrace. Love. Valiant. 21 No One Knows by Tasha Herbert, edited by Faith Morgan 08/31/2018 No One Knows A hurt deep within the depths of earth Is like the sound of the ocean waves beating against the shore, the chirping birds at sunrise No more like the children screaming of fun and terror cries the sound of thunder on a stormy day the beautiful sun rays, the embrace of the rainbows face. No one knows The dark paths you walk alone Cringing at temptations so strong Through triumph and pain Struggling to finish your race No one knows How extraordinary of a woman you are; Arms stretched, gasping for air unseen bruises forgot to be aware somehow, we find the strength to conquer the stress someone has made The challenges we face as mothers, daughters, aunts, and caretakers are gone as waste misunderstood, the hidden hurt and scars that are trapped under the hood. Feelings now stated no more of that love in vain; but theres hope in this broken chain As Whitney Houston proclaimed, learning to love your self is the greatest gift of all Tears running down your face; restraining us from the beauty you already possess in fear Woman you are extraordinary, and love is still here Find it within yourself first before running to break someone else Love and you will be loved; Let love heal the wounds and forgiveness be a friend SO NO ONE KNOWS How you did it because you found the secret within Love like the clear clouds in the sky after the storm comes a rainbow, a promise that will not lie be the peak of the Sun between the clouds. The freedom you feel; The relief you scream; now woman be set free Free at last is the extraordinary woman you are Go sistas and be true to yourself and uplift your sista afar Share with her the thoughts that fought and how you overcame Fix a sistas tilted crown without shame; Stop the pain and love once more Support that hugs the inner core. Theres always enough of us and love to brace the shores; Turn and comprehend you no longer must hide. Come from the shadows, you deserved to be loved and love will abide because We Know No one really knows The anger, rage, resenting the jealousy that tears us down Comes from that place of pain, oh how loud Your love was taught in scorn The only love felt for long was the love of being born growing from a baby to a young lady, your love has been tainted; Love lost, defamed compassion scurried away knowing no other reaction 22 23 I Have Known Peace by Colleen Schena Behold your Mother A poem written by Luke Brown from the perspective of Our Lady of Sorrows I know Peace like an old friend, But I once was her stranger I had to discover her, in the end, Like all do just by living: I look at all on earth, to see if any pity me and meditate upon my sorrows, and I find very few. - Marys words to St. Bridget of Sweden Peace, she is the song of birds And the new green leaves of branches. Peace, she is the blue sky And the slow, gentle breeze. Behold my spotless heart afire, Burning with the sole desire To lead all souls unto my Son, That men my children might become. Peace, she is found in the flowers And their lively, bright colors. She is the rays of sunshine And water without ice. Peace comes after the storm And the worlds most brutal fires. She glows in darkness Like the moon who lights the night. Peace is the bare feet of summer And the wings of butterflies She is blue waves and bird wings And she lays, dormant, in every heart. When I gave birth to Christ my Lord, I felt no pain nor aught discord, Since, by the graces he would win, He kept me from all stain of sin. When men my Son did crucify, Within my soul, I too did die. My heart was riven by a sword, Proving true the prophets word. Though other martyrs were consoled By Christs own death which made them bold, His death was all that Martyred me, So how could it my comfort be? And yet I suffered not in vain; My woe became as labor pain. For sharing in his pain untold, Christ made me Mother of his fold. As Queen in heaven now I reign, Yet men their Savior still disdain. With each indifferent show of scorn, They pierce my heart as with a thorn. 24 Please join your sorrow to my own That for these sins you may atone. Pray too that all accept my Son And their salvation which he won. 25 poem written in the evening on a digital sticky note by Nicholas Rivelli And its all good Feeling a little like All Might Staying up all night Breathing out a sigh of relief Feeling lighter than leaves As the darkness depletes Tired, to say the least But I think Im done fighting the King Drinking in the light that He brings A whole flight of the best Defeating my stress and sealing my death Bleed for my Queen, cause shes got me in check I think I can remember fondly and not wrongly At least now, in this moment Ive captured Though itll pass and Ill go out to pasture I think too much, and I guess Ive lacked maturity, while she quickly quelled the gusts Maybe its the feminine genius, maybe its Adams fall Or maybe Im just loved completely after all. Suffocating at the Carwash by Steven Conry 7.25 an hour plus tips for killer smoke, cigs smother not just lungs but car windows. We choke on it and return again tomorrow, scrubbing glass, streaks wont leave. Smothers not just lungs but car windows stained yellow with unyielding grime . Scrubbing glass, streaks wont leave, one of us steals from our pooled tips. Stained yellow with unyielding grime, boss screams at a patron to never return. One of us steals from our pooled tips, fans thunder at the mouth of the tunnel. Boss screams at a patron to never return, texts one of ussacked, yet back next week. Fans thunder at the mouth of the tunnel, we lean on car seats, try to scour the tar. Texts one of ussacked, yet back next week with white cotton towels scarred by smoke. We lean on car seats, try to scour the tar. Customers pull up when rainclouds above. With white cotton towels scarred by smoke, we ingest the toxins on our stolen breaks. Customers pull up when rainclouds above, cars in line past closing still our job. We ingest the toxins on our stolen breaks, 7.25 an hour plus tips for killer smoke. Cars in line past closingstill our job. We choke on it, and return again tomorrow. 26 27 Sweet Smile, Sweet Smile by Faith Morgan 08/31/2018 I leaped for joy once I knew I saw the sun lite gates, the shea butter melted case Of every tear traced back to a bottle Wings grasped by fear and made its knees model my joy Hmm the day I wished Id smiled I shouted for zeal once I knew I saw the healed scars as victory, the salted caramel hickory Of the beauty I had forgotten Hand painted so perfectly, my God saw no inch rotten Hmm the day I remembered to smile I stretched for more once I knew I saw an arm reach for me, rich coco beans Of laughter my ears danced to every single beat Lips spoke two single words so sweet, beautifully made Hmm the day I let myself smile I remember the blessings: I am humbled Not swift to cause my short pain to mumble I rejoice in this life Precious gift given in spite of me and all my junk files Hmm such a sweet day when I smiled 28 This is Colour by Maura Domogalik He fell hard and he fell fast as he looked into brown eyesbright gold. He wondered if this was colour. Sunset rays left him aghast. He hadnt known love could be so bold. He fell hard and he fell fast. The grays and charcoals of the past brought memories of lies once told. They whispered, this is colour. On creamy skin indigo bruises cast an outline where she used to hold. He fell hard and he fell fast. The glossy shade of eyes now glassed and putrid smell of love to mold proved that this, long ago, was colour. Crimson showed in moments last, rather than seeing white of old. He fell hard and he fell fast and breathed, so this is colour. 29 Moonlight Sonata by Kyle Stein It is in the still of the night Where I find my solace. In its solitude, sweet serenity; A port after a long journey at sea. A time where prayers are prayed And secrets are shared. A time where thoughts wander aimlessly And dreams run wild and free. A time where the chains of emotion are broken And tears are shed fearlessly. O, Mistress of the Night, What more do you require? What is left of me to give That will put your stormy heart at ease? For there is but water in my eyes And a fire within my heart; Do you need a drink Or a spark? 30 MEMOIR A Rosebud from the Ashes by Elizabeth Sexton The Phrase I struggle to find parking as I watch the time. I walk across the campus seeing a Marian sign and feel the urge to roll my eyes. I walk down the hall and walk into a dark classroom full of strangers aside from one familiar face. The projector lights up the room and I glare at the bright screen, as if it had done something to me. Then I see it. Home is where the heart is A simple phrase, that is honestly quite cliche, transports me back to St. Joes. Warm tears roll down my face making the ink run on my notes. I glance out the window watching cars circle around a full parking lot as the class discusses something about psychology that I couldnt care less about. Home Click, click, click. My turn signal seems to speed up as I wait until it is safe to turn into what will be my home for the next 4 years. My excitement boils over and I let out a giggle. I park and a swarm of people gather around my car. All wearing dark purple shirts and laughing as they ask if I need help while I try to drag my purple trunk up the steel staircase. Just open the door, well grab the stuff. I nod my head and rush up the staircase and start the search for my room. 210, 213, 218! Here I am! I turn the old brass key and forcefully push the door open. I smile so wide you see my pink gums and I set down my purse. Im in here! I poke my head through the door as the group of helpers floods my room with all the things that I had packed in my car this morning. Here I am. I made it. 32 The Suspicious Email I am curled up on the couch laying my head on my moms lap watching the Thanksgiving Day Parade when I feel the vibration from my phone. I see a notification bar telling me of an email from St. Joe. I slide open the notification and it takes me to the email. I dont quite understand what they are saying but it discusses losing academic credibility if they dont do something. It also says not to worry, so I dont. Its not a Family Room Class continues without me. Its easy to become invisible while at Marian or Im just really good at distancing myself. She claims were free to go and my scowl diminishes. I drudge through the wide hallways being careful to watch my feet so no one sees the remnants of my tears, not like anyone would care enough to see the red splotches around my eyes. Right, left, right, left, right, left, and open door. My head lifts just to scan the Family Room trying my best to find an empty spot. I continue my march to the empty chair and put in my earbuds and turn up my music to ensure I am completely secluded. St. Joes Special I curl up on the couch and almost fall to the floor. I tuck my feet underneath me and drink my Cup O Joe Special while I flash a warming smile at my friends that make their way through the small room in the church basement. A mismatch array of broken furniture, old board games, and angsty art fills the room making it our space. Free coffee, good company, and fun music make my favorite hangout. We gather on the outdated couches and chairs and vote on who will be the next officers for our club. I state my case to be the Historian, and I am sent out in the hall. I am invited back in and given the good news. Already an officer as a freshman. My chest puffs up and I cant lose the smile on my face. Im given a bag full of pictures from decades of students who loved this space, just like I do. 33 The Beginning of The End Today we find out. The Board of Trustees voted on our school, our home, our future. The air is stale and faces grim at what is expected to be the last day we can hope. I try to believe that we can make it. This place is too good, the professors too caring, and the difference they make is too big that God would not end my home. It feels as if I have a boulder in my stomach as I sit in the Core lecture hall. I zone out and think that I have nothing to worry about, it will be ok, and we wont close. The entire school makes their way in the hall and finds a seat. Soon we run out of chairs and people gather in the back. I find my friends and give up my seat to surround myself with comforting faces. An arm drapes over my shoulder as the President walks up to the microphone. The room dies down and no one makes a sound. The board has decided to suspend operations starting May 2017. We will not be taking questions at this time. Thank you. A wail of pain erupts from the crowd, and the arm that was around my shoulder brings me in for a hug. Tears stream down our cheeks and more friends join our hug. The group hug cries together. Students around us feel outraged and scream as they storm out. Coward! You dont even have the decency to tell us why?! Devastation fills our hearts as we realize everything weve just lost. You ok? I will be. Blooming Out of the Ashes I sit in solitude in a crowded room. I hear a roar of laughter through the earbuds lodged in my ears. My laptop consumes my attention and I dont see the finger reach to tap on my shoulder. I jump and whip my head to see the welcoming smile spread across a familiar face. Hey, mind if I have a seat? Not at all, go ahead. My dread dissipates with an old acquaintance who understands. The pain of our experience connects us and our friendship is a rosebud blooming from the ashes. I feel as if there is a new beginning while I sit across from you and I joined in the laughter I avoided not too long ago. Parade of Vultures Marian University set up computers in Halleck and are helping with applications. I dont know if I want to go there. Theyre offering to match your award letter and still add more scholarships. I guess thats good I scrunch my nose as I walk through the doors and make my way up the steps to the parade of vultures collecting students from the dying college. Well, I have to go somewhere. I sit down and start my application, I wiggle in the computer chair as I try to focus on the task at hand. After I finish the application I make my way around the ballroom inspecting the mural. The history wrapped around the collection of students looking for a future who got to experience a part of it. My friend looks over at me with a look of concern. 34 35 SHORT STORY Sunday Best The Still Lake The white collar enters and the angels rejoice. Women raise on their kitten heels, only their Sunday best. Mothers hold their children in place as they greet the pastor. Good morning, He bellows, arms open to embrace everyone. Good morning, they all shrill, almost falling out of the pews to get his attention. The lake stretched out, placid and still. It was disturbed by some residual ripples from the rowboat Evan had just returned to dock. He tied it there neatly; he was familiar with this lake, as it was situated in the woods behind his familys lake house. This summer, hed come up with his girlfriend, but he planned to go home alone. Initially, this fact had brought his mood down exponentially. But, he stifled his worry and focused on moving forward. That was what life was about, after all; marching on. His father claimed the military taught him that. The military had also taught him some mean switchblade techniques and a cruel brand of discipline. Or, maybe he just said the military taught him that to avoid the ugly truth of it: his father was a cruel man, and he enjoyed being a cruel man. That was the reality of it. Evan understood this and respected it. He could even empathize with it. Because, how many times had his girlfriend called him mean, and hed blamed it on his own father? That, despite the fact that his fathers old punishments had nothing to do with it; he enjoyed his way of being. Her lack of understanding toward the truth of who he was played a large part in why they needed to so separate ways. That, and his tendency toward cruelty. Evan shook his head. It was too beautiful a morning to be caught up in these petty arguments. He stood on the dock and watched, hands in his pockets despite their grime, as the sun rose. Leaves of a deep inky green caught the pink and golden glow of the sun, reflecting its beams back up at the sky. The surface of the lake did, too, transforming gradually from murky to vibrant. By the time the sun had completely risen, the lake was as still as if hed never performed his gruesome task at all. And, it was a splendid morning, beautiful and vibrant. That made going home by himself easier, less lonely even. He didnt truly regret the loss of his girlfriends company; though it was a long drive, he could use the time to think. Besides, he imagined she appreciated the lovely morning, even if her view came from the bottom of the lake. by Lauren Milligan *** Would you like to have coffee with me? Come back to my office. He had a devilish grin. The mother shoos her children away into the arms of another woman. The pastor in front of her is all that matters. And so, he guides her back to his office, one hand pressing firmly against her lower back, causing hell to break loose in her abdomen. The white collar enters and the demons cackle. The woman falls from grace, onto her knees; hes going to ruin her Sunday best. 38 by Ragan Williams 39 Vapor on the Mirror by Keith C. Hart 1952 Kissed They placed baby Johnny on a pillow between them. The Ford F-Series 1949 truck, red and lustrous, lacked seatbelts, which would not really start appearing in vehicles for six years, would not become mandatory for 16, in 1968. Anna Fern kept her hand on Johnny and felt his breath rise and fall, rise and fall, all the while Bernie beamed like a fool. He reached over and placed his hand on top of Anna Ferns. Their hands held little Johnny in place as Bernie braked into the garage. Maria gave her loudest three-year old squeal when she saw her new baby brother, but Anna Fern had to make sure that she was not too rough, that she realized that Johnny was real, not a toy that could just be bought again if he was broken. After Maria was put to bed, Anna Fern sat on the couch and prayed her rosary while Johnny nursed. Bernard came and put his arm around her shoulders and watched his son eat, his wife pray. After she had finished the Salve Regina, she kissed the top of Johnnys head, and Bernard kissed the top of hers. 1997 Shattered Grandma! Nathan flung his arms around her, but his smile was not on her but on the package under her arms. Oh, hello, now stop looking, these cookies are for your mother. He kept grinning up at her. Anita was in the bedroom, holding her tiny newborn. She fawned over her newest grandbaby, while her daughter scolded her for bringing cookies. Wheres Dad? He had a cold and didnt want to risk the baby getting it. Anita thrusted the baby towards her mom, but Anna Fern ignored the baby and looked absent-mindedly at a picture of Nathan on the wall instead. Well, here, take him. Why dont you just get up and wait for me to sit in the recliner. Im not feeling well. I hope you havent caught what Dad has. 40 No, no, Im just dizzy, havent eaten enough. She held the baby for a while, sitting, and they chatted and gossiped. When the baby fell asleep and Anita placed him in the crib, they went into the kitchen to make Nathan and themselves some sandwiches. When will Bud be home? Anna Fern asked Anita as she was putting the mustard back in the fridge. Late, they still havent put all the corn out. This time of year, I just dont see him. And when winter comes and harvest is done you cant get him to leave the house. Yeah, and maybe- The pickle jar slipped from Anna Ferns fingers and shattered across the kitchen floor, leaving gherkins and glass in a green puddle at her feet. 1953 Puddle Johnny had had another seizure. Anna Fern knew because when she got up to pee at two in the morning, Johnny was sleeping on his side with a puddle of green vomit, the peas he had for supper, beside him. Oh, thank you, Christ, that he had been sleeping on his side. Shaking and vomiting had become normal for Johnny the last two months. He was shaky on his legs, still learning to walk, and every time he fell she wanted to scream because she thought that he was having another one. The doctor will tell us tomorrow what it is, the bloodwork, scans, surely by now he knows what it is? And, to her horror, he did. 1998 Blood Bernard helped take her clothes off and set her on the shower chair. As he undressed her, she thought back to their wedding night, when they had both lost their virginity, and how it had thrilled her as he unbuttoned each of the fifty-four buttons between the neck and waistline of her white dress. Maria had come nine months and a week later, and she was always careful to tell people that it was nine months and a week after the wedding that Maria was born, lest anyone get scandalous ideas. Once Bernard had placed Anna Fern on the shower chair, Anita started to shave her mothers legs. They did not speak, because Anna 41 Fern could not anymore and Anita was too tired after teaching all day at school and getting supper for Nathan and her youngest son ready. Anita was very tired, and her hand slipped, nicking her mother so that a blood red ribbon descended down the leg. Embarrassed, looking for a way to make a joke about it, Anita looked up and said, Thats for when you slapped me and bruised my face the night before prom. 1977 Framed Anita stood at the top of the ladder and looped the Christmas lights around the basketball goal. Lacey called, Anita! Richies looking up your skirt. No Im not, Im just admiring the Christmas lights! She looked down and scolded Richie Crofton. He grinned up at her mischievously, devilishly, grinned up into her eyes framed by those black-framed glasses. Some high school boys, especially the underclassmen, still had such an innocent grin when they flirted with girls, but Richies had at some point lost any innocent pretense. Anita stepped down the ladder and heard Lacey chime up, All right ladies - and Richie the gym looks fantastic. Remember, the grand march is at five, so be here by four thirty with your dates. Thanks for your help. Lacey came bounding over to her. Anita, you still need a ride back? Yeah, that would be great. Ok, but let me run by the art room to see if Mrs. Lopes ordered enough candles for the tables. Hey, Anita, I dont mind taking you back. Thanks, Richie, but Lacey said she will. Well shes on the opposite side of town, and I drive by your house to get to mine anyway. No big deal. The clock on the gyms wall showed 10:43. Her curfew was eleven. Ok, Richie, Ill go with you. Thanks anyway, Lace. Richie was poor, so he drove a rusted over pickup, a 1949 Ford that looked like it still should not be able to run, but run it did, and he whipped it out of the parking lot, going much too fast, driving through the sleepy town until they saw fields, some of them Buds dads familys fields. 42 It was past one of these fields that Richie turned right, down a dirt road without any houses on it. Hey, Richie, whats going on? Nothing. Id just thought wed go on a drive. No, I dont want to. Take me home. Are you- Richie, take me home now and do not make me tell you again. Fine, fine, have it your way. Ill turn around up here. But he did not turn around. He kept driving. Anita started looking for weapons. No car keys, no coins, her purse was forgotten at home. He reached over and put his hand on her thigh. Started rubbing. Her nails, she could fight with those. They were long and ready to be painted red tomorrow, blood red to match her dress. Bud loved red, red was his favorite Bud Richie! She turned and looked at him. If you dont turn this fucking rust bucket around Bud will kill you. He will. Hell take a baseball bat, along with his friends, and beat your scrawny arms and legs until they lay shattered in a puddle of your own blood. Get your hand off me and take me home, now. Richie thought of Bud, the farmers son who had been doing heavy lifting since grade school, the son of a farmers wife who had grown up eating hardy, farmers wife meals. He pulled into her drive way at 11:34. Her mothers black silhouette was framed in the living room window. She got out of the car and said not one word to Richie. She slammed the door. Her house was cool compared to how hot she had felt in that truck. Not a light was on in the house except in the living room, so she went there. Her mother was still standing by the window, facing her. They were alone. Anna Fern took a step towards her daughter and slapped her across the face. The slap propelled her glasses off her face and against the wall. The glasses lay broken on the floor beneath the framed baby pictures. I will not have my daughter fooling around with one of those uncouth Croftons. What would Bud say? Are you going to lose a man from a good Catholic family to someone like Richie Crofton? If you ever get pregnant Anita stood there and took it, took it all into herself, her mothers pride, her mothers rage, her mothers fear. Tears flowed from her eyes, but Anna Ferns were dry, hard marbles behind the screen 43 of her glasses. Anita went to the wall and picked up her broken ones. When she stood up, her face was level with the framed baby pictures. In her blurry vision, each baby looked the same, Maria, Donna, Tony, Gina, herself, and poor little Johnny, who only Maria had ever met. 1999 Angel Anna Fern lay dying on her bed. The ALS, and pneumonia now, had caught up with her. Bernard laid beside her, kept his hand on her chest, felt her breath rise and fall, rise and fall. Her children, minus Johnny, prayed the rosary around her until she breathed her last. Or, if Johnny was there, she was the only one to see him. 1954 Breathe Forty-five years before Anita would begin regularly placing flowers at the graves of her mother and her brother, Anna Fern and Bernard got out of bed to begin their day. As she, pregnant with Donna, spread butter across toast for Maria and themselves, she heard Bernies voice in the next room, Anna. It was the way he said it that made her know. She walked into the nursery and grabbed the handheld mirror on top of the dresser. Bernard was holding his son who would not wake up. The doctors had told them that the way to best know if Johnny was dead, and not just having a seizure was to place a mirror under his mouth and watch for it to fog up with breath. No vapor, no life. She opened his little mouth and placed the mirror in as much as his cheeks would allow. He was so cold, still, white, that she did not need the lack of vapor on the mirror to tell her he was dead, but she performed the ritual anyway. She performed this mirror ritual with the severity in which she prayed her rosaries. A numbness filled her extremities while inside her, down near her stomach, she felt a growing heat, a rage that needed to be spat out. Tempted to throw the mirror and shatter it against the wall, she instead dropped it into the crib and took Johnny from her husband. He wrapped his arms around her, difficult as it was because of her shaking and screaming, brought his head against her cheek while she raised Johnny up closer. Her hot tears fell into Johnnys face as Bernard held her and cried into hers. 44 The Devils Storm by Chris Brake It started on my drive from Milwaukee to Chicago. It was not supposed to be a long trip. Nothing extreme or anything; a simple excursion. That is, until the temperature dove straight into hell, and the snow started to swallow up everything. The original goal was to beat the weather. The radar said that if I left Milwaukee at 8:00 PM, I should be back in the comfort of my home before the blizzard struck. It should have been an uneventful trip. I would undoubtedly be safe and sound, without a worry or care in the world. The only activity in my home would be the sound of an inviting cup of hot chocolate being made and the ruffling of my cozy blue blanket as I curl up nice and snug on my couch. That vision was now far from my consciousness. I was driving on the interstate. I saw flurries hurling toward me and my windshield. I saw fear creeping into me as my sight was becoming severely hindered. The roads were icy. A monster formed from the clouds in the collective blurriness of white that was all around me. The ice outside started to creep into my emotional state like an abrasive chilly hand grabbing at my heart, threatening to make it stop beating. I wondered about my proximity to other cars. I wondered how I could get through this. When the snow started to blind me, I realized just how serious this blizzard had become. All it took were the tires of my blue Mazda hitting a patch of ice. I slid off the road and into the field that was off to the side as time seemed to freeze for a moment. My suspicion had turned to reality. The simple but also paralyzing process of losing all control set in as I shot across one lane and crashed into a pile of snow. I was stuck. One thing was for sure, I was not going to get anywhere in this car. I sat there in my glorious car, which had both kept me from being injured in this incident and was also shielding me from the fury taking place outside its windows. I had to make a decision, or I would either get into further trouble or freeze. The temperature had dropped to an ungodly -10 degrees Fahrenheit. This was dangerous. There was no service to call anyone with my cell phone. There was an exit about a mile ahead I was fairly sure. It was time to take 45 matters into my own hands. My toughness would be put to the ultimate test. I braced myself and bundled up as much as was humanly possible. I grabbed my scarf, threw my hood up, and prepared for the worst. Opening my car door brought a tidal waves worth of wind smacking me bluntly on the chin. The blizzard was screaming now, and I had to combat it with only my guts. I started to trudge through the snow at the fastest pace I could muster. I could make out other cars having struggles of their own. Could fate bring a horrible death if one of them decides to head off the road in my direction? Only time would tell. I had to move. After ten minutes of fighting through the weather, I was able to escape the dangers of the interstate. I was looking for a gas station when I saw someone lying on the ground. When I could finally make out features, it looked like a homeless man. He was bald, he had a thick, black coat on, and his face was bright red. My expression turned to horror when I recognized he was struggling to breathe. He was dying. I hollered at him. I shook him. But the only sound he made was a feeble grunt. I, myself, was struggling. In a split decision, I grabbed him and helped him up. Stay on your feet and walk with me! I yelled to him as I put my arm around him for support. I used all my strength to drag him through the blizzard. It was not letting up. Minutes went by. Come on, man! You can do this! I encouraged him, as I saw his body falter through the mist. I had never seen an abominable snowman. I used to fear a giant, white monster would chase me down and eat me. For a moment, I would have preferred to see one instead of the storm that was trying to take my life. I questioned whether I had the strength to keep helping this poor soul move through this horrid snow. I wondered if it would be immoral to let him go. It was then when I regretted ever complaining about not having a white Christmas. My face was burning. My feet were throbbing. Five minutes felt like an hour. Our lives were being threatened, and the snow was making it harder and harder to walk. I think twenty minutes had gone by when I finally found a gas station. I helped the man into the warm and nearly collapsed as I set him on the floor. He looked like he was about ready to faint. I was too. 46 I ran to get him some coffee. I helped him drink it right there on the gas station floor. He spat some of it back up on my lap, but I helped him continue drinking. When I asked him if he was okay, he just looked into my eyes in a way that told me more than if he had spoken. We were both humbled, the two of us. We had been exhausted by a terrible storm, but we never backed down. We were fighters. Next, I pulled out my cell phone and called 9-1-1. An ambulance came for him and immediately put him in the back. As they pulled away, I felt a twinge of sadness. I never got his name. It took me a second to realize the magnitude of the journey this stranger and I had taken. I hoped he would be all right. Next, I got a call from somebody else. Hello, I answered my wife. Honey, how are you?! I know the weather took a turn for the worst. Im just fine! I replied. Suddenly, a wry smile appeared on my face. Ive looked straight into the eyes of the devil and came away with the victory. 47 SHORT FICTION PLAY How far the apple falls by Joel Kelley Characters: Lee fifteen years old, tall, scrawny, close-cut blonde hair, heavy eyebrows and fierce eyes; known by the neighbors to be rowdy Bo fifteen years old, well-built, an unkempt brown mop of hair, delicate face and young eyes; often described by friends moms as polite Setting: Local cemetery, approximately 10pm Time: Present Lights fade in, revealing several headstones onstage. Police sirens sound in the distance. Smoke curls like spirits around the graves and tall grass. The lighting is ominous, dark. A silhouette of the mausoleum haunts the background. One boy, Lee, rushes into the middle of stage holding a hunting rifle, out of breath. He checks the gravesite, peering behind some of the graves as if the undead hide in wait. He pants. Lee: This (heaving a sigh) should be good. Looking around, he carefully rests the gun against the back of one of the headstones stage-left. After a cursory examination of the names on the graves, he chooses to lean against one in the center of stage. He closes his eyes, putting his head down, taking deep breaths. Somewhere, a crows caw tears through the cool, evening air. He is startled but puts his head back down. Suddenly Bo sprints in, looking over his shoulder, running smack into Lee. Lee: Watch it! Bo: (nervously, breathless) Oh man oh man oh man oh Lee: (interrupting, hands open to calm him) Chill out dude. Bo: (stammering) I cant believe that we just that you just 50 Lee: (less kindly) I said chill out! Bo: But didnt you see the way that Lee: (interrupting, frustrated) yes Bo: and how he just Lee: I know, shit! Bo: (running his hands through his hair, thinking aloud) What are we gonna do? Lee: (dismissively) I dont know. Bo: (desperately) Lee, what are we gonna do? Lee: (standing up and shouting) DAMMIT I DONT KNOW! Bo stumbles back at the response. Lee: (regaining composure) Look, I dont know. Bo: What happens if the cops come for us? Lee: They wont think to look for us here, its too creepy. Bo: (glancing around) Yeah, no kidding. Lee: What, are you scared? Bo: (defensively) No Lee: (grabbing Bos shirt) Wanna go cry to mommy? Bo: (pushing him away) Youre starting to sound like him. Lee: Well, we dont have to worry about him anymore. He releases Bo. Bo rubs his chest and rolls his neck, then suddenly shoves Lee. Lee: (shoving back) Are you kidding me? Bo: (shouting) What are you gonna do, shoot me too? Lee: (matching the tone, pointing an accusatory finger) Dont act all innocent! You hated him, too! You were in on it! Bo: Yeah, but it was your plan! Lee: You stole the frickin gun from his safe! Bo: You pulled the trigger! Lee: (about to shout, stops himself, looks down) yeah, and? He turns, his eyes wandering toward the gun. Bo notices the gun for the first time. 51 Bo: (perturbed) You didnt even get rid of it? Lee: (glancing up) look, there wasnt much time okay? It all happened pretty fast. Bo: Pretty fast? He was just sitting on the couch drinking booze, same as always! Mom wasnt even home! Lee: Dont say it like she would have cared either way. Bo: Dont talk about my mom that way. Lee: Oh, shes your mom now? Bo: Yeah, as a matter of fact, she is. And she actually cared for other people. Unlike your dad. Bo turns to examine a headstone behind him. Lee, agitated, springs on top of Bo, pinning him to the ground. Lee: (through gritted teeth) Take it back! Bo: Are you frickin kidding me? They grapple on the grass until Bo lands an elbow on Lees mouth; they separate. Lee rubs his hand against his lips, checking for blood. He finds none. Lee: (spitting imagined blood into the grass) Is that the best you got? Bo: (eyes widening at the realization) You are just like him. Lee: (shaking his head, quietly) Take it back. Bo: You never know when to quit, just like him. Lee: Cut it out! Bo: I wouldnt be surprised if you were drunk right now, too! Lee: (snarling) Thats it! Growling, Lee lunges for Bo a second time. They topple to the floor, grunting. Suddenly, a siren pierces the night and red and blue lights flicker across the stage. The boys stop fighting and lay flat against the floor, motionless. The siren fades out and the lights pass. Lee: (sighing in relief) Shit, that was close. Bo: (noticing Lees hand on his back) Get off me, you freak. 52 Bo stands, dusts himself off, and walks stage right, leaving Lee on the ground. Lee: (rolling over on the ground, quietly rubbing his eyes) What have I done? Bo: (sarcastically) More like, what havent you done? Lee: (glaring toward Bo) I havent ended your life yet. Bo: Wouldnt be the first time tonight. Lee: (half-joking) Is that a challenge? Bo: This whole thing is so stupid. I mean, hiding in a graveyard? How clich. Lee: (standing up, swiping dirt off his pants and shirt) Look, I couldnt get in the church, and I was in a hurry. Bo: And shooting your father? Thats right out of a frickin country song. Lee: (assuming Country accent) Yeehaw pardner Bo: Is this a joke to you? We just shot someone. Lee: Im not laughing... (forcing a smile) But I am happy Bo: (disregarding the comment, correcting himself) YOU just shot someone. Lee: Yes, (less confidently) I shot someone Bo: You shot your dad. Lee: Yeah but what does that even mean. Bo: (miming the scene) Well, you held the rifle like this Lee: No, I mean dad. Reflective pause. Bo: At least yours didnt run off with another woman. Lee: At least you didnt shoot yours. The boys fall into an uneasy silence. They each eye the gun a second time. Bo coughs awkwardly. Lee starts to laugh. Bo: (glancing sideways at Lee) Whats so funny? Lee: (unable to contain himself) Remember whenever he stumbled home so drunk that we could smell him before he even reached the block? 53 Bo: (not finding the humor in it) Which time? Lee: And he tripped up the stairs, complaining that someone had taken out a few steps? Bo: I remember not being able to sleep that night. Lee: And then he threw up all over himself? Bo: Why is this funny? Lee: (almost hysterical) And then started shouting at mom? Bo: Lee? Lee: And then he went to the fridge Bo: Lee. Lee: and started throwing all the leftovers at her. (miming and impersonating his father) All this food you make is shit! Bo: Lee. Lee: and then, he grabbed the dishes from the cabinets Bo: (quieter) cmon Lee. Lee: (shouting) and he started throwing the China plates and coffee mugs and wine glasses at her! (suddenly calm) and she just sat there crying, all bruised and cut up So he walked up to her (walking up to Bo) And grabbed her by the collar (yanking Bos collar, drawing close to Bos face)And whispered, Youre just as worthless as all this shit food and those fucking dishes.(throwing Bo to the ground) and then he threw her to the ground and (kicking Bo forcefully, grunting between each word) started kicking her over and over Bo lies on the ground in the fetal position, shaking and trying to deflect the blows. Lee, realizing what hes done, falls to his knees in front of the headstone with the rifle. He rests his arms on the stone and begins to cry. Bo rolls over, exposing a black eye and a bloody lip. He staggers up. the headstone so that it forms a barrier between them. Bo places his hand on Lees arm to comfort him. Bo: Look, Im glad you shot him. Lee: (looking up) Really? Bo: (chuckling) Yeah, he was a real asshole. Lee smiles, as if its the first time Bo has cussed or its the first time theyve agreed. Bo: But you know what Lee: What? Bo: (whispering) Youre never gonna have the chance to hurt anyone else. Leaping up and away from Lee, rifle in hand, Bo points the rifle at him, obviously uncomfortable handling a firearm. Theres a loud BANG as a tombstone behind Lee explodes. The kickback throws Bo off balance, but only temporarily. He loads another round as Lee charges him. The boys struggle for the rifle, offering obscenities and swearing in exertion, pulling at the gun and pushing the other away like an intricate dance, each trying to gain control of the situation. Suddenly, the barrel points toward the audience. The boys gasp, and the lights cut to black as a resounding BANG fills the space. Bo: What the hell, man? Lee: (in between sobs) Im sorry. Bo: Sorry? You beat the crap out of me and think you can just say sorry? Lee: (pounding the headstone with each pronouncement) I hate him, I hate him, I hate him. Bo walks over to Lee, squatting down on the opposite side of 54 55 Cat and Mouse by Eric Hvidston Characters: Mr. C- CEO, mid-30s, recently divorced, uses player personality as mask Darcie-Secretary, early 30s, happily married, fiery personality Tony- Janitor, late 50s, waiting for Mr. C and Darcie to leave for the day Setting: Top floor office lobby, Boston (thick accents), 1930, February Scene opens with a dark stage, a spotlight turns on and follows Mr. C walking into the lobby from his office next to Darcies desk. He puts on his fedora and places his foot on the desk. As soon as he sets his foot on the desk, the stage lights flip on. Mr. C is wearing a white button up shirt with black suspenders and matching slacks. His freshly shined shoes gleam in the fluorescent light, in one hand is his briefcase, his coat draped over the same arm. Darcie is busily working away on her typewriter, wearing her brand new blue button up dress with pink roses embroidered all over it. Tony is sitting on a couch, chewing his pen over a crossword puzzle from yesterdays newspaper and humming the latest hits. His brown newsie conceals his face while he looks down, and his matching coat is over his shoulders. All noise stops when Mr. C speaks Mr. C: Doty, I have a meeting tomorrow morning and Ill need my lovely secretary to type out the minutes... oh, and you can come too I suppose. Tony (who is once again zoned out and focused on his puzzle): Whats an 8 letter word for insincere interest? (Darcie turns to face Tony) Darcie: Unctuous. Tony: Thank you Darcie. (Darcie turns back to Mr. C) Darcie: At least some men are still respectful nowadays. Mr C: Well it is 1930 now, after all, some guys ought to be. Darcie: But not you? Mr. C: Aint got the time doll. Darcie: Aint got the time or aint got the wit? Mr. C: Doty you fiery broad you. Did you happen to catch that sweet ad in the paper this morning, some nice little car for sale. I was thinking of buying it, you know. Might take it for a drive down to the beach. Tony: Hey Darcie, whats a 10 letter word for someone who boasts? I think it starts with a B (Darcie turns back to face Tony again) Darcie: Now Mr. C, you know my name is Darcie. Darcie: A blatteroon. Mr. C: Yes but I much prefer Doty, or Dot. It keeps the mind running and the thoughts flowing. (Mr. C takes his foot off the desk and walks halfway to Tony) Darcie: Oh Mr C, you are incorrigible. Mr. C: Hey buddy, I swear if I walk over there and there aint no damn crossword then Ill throw you outta here myself. Mr. C: Doty you foxy dame, hows the mister? 56 57 (Tony looks up from his puzzle, confused and unsure of what just happened) Darcie: You better believe him Tony, hes all brawn and no brain. (Tony begins to laugh but quickly silences himself when he sees the anger on Mr. Cs face, Mr. C turns to face Darcie) Mr. C: Is that so? Well Tony, havent you heard that Doty here is all brains and no looks? Darcie: Hey Mr. C, howre those divorce papers coming along? Mr. C: You know what Dot!? Im thinking of throwing you out too! (Darcie stands and maintains eye contact with Mr. C) Darcie: Hey Tony! You wanna know a 12 letter word for something thats worthless Tony: Um... (Tony is now flabbergasted, unsure what to think, do, or say) Mr. C: Doty you know my name is Cook Darcie: Youre a coward Mr. C! A caitiff! (A brief silence as the clock outside strikes 5 oclock) Mr. C: Darcie, please (Darcie takes a deep breath in and out, then smirks at Mr. C) Darcie: You aint worth the trouble. Toots. I gotta get home and make supper for the kids. Besides, weve been playing this game for five years now, when are you gonna learn this cat has claws? (Darcie grabs her coat off the the back of her chair, puts it on, and starts walking off stage. Mr. C adjusts his tie and stands up straight, looking back up at Darcie) Mr. C: See you tomorrow Dot, 8am sharp for that meeting. Darcie: As always Mr. C, as always. (the stage lights shut off and a spotlight follows Darcie off stage) Darcie: Cumberground. (Mr. C and Darcie are now in each others faces) Mr. C: Its funny youre wearing those roses, cause you sure aint no flower! Darcie: What does Mr. C stand for again? Crow? Coward? Cretan! Crap! Mr. C: Cmon Dot, you women are all the same. Get your head on straight or Ill fire you and hire that canary in the corner club down the block. Darcie: What was the reason shes leaving you again? Huh? Mr. Crook. (At that, Mr. C looks at the ground, now feeling more insecure. Darcie had struck a nerve) 58 59 ARTWORK Interactive Lines #1 Clare Haenni 62 Martin Luther King Jr. Elizabeth Bath 63 Adventurous, Colleen Schena Interactive Lines #2 Clare Haenni 66 Grace Harmon Butterfly, Maria Wellman Tea House, Yvette Clemons Interactive Lines #3 Clare Haenni 72 Roses of Notre Dame, Colleen Schena The Alleyway, Connor Miller A Night in Paris, Elizabeth Bath Interactive Lines #4 Clare Haenni 78 Nature Sealed, Colleen Schena Cathedral Vaults, Connor Miller Spider, Maria Wellman Personal Palette Clare Haenni Grace Harmon 85 Vaults in the Round, Connor Miller Curve Tree, Maria Wellman To the Heavens, Connor Miller Cambridge Canal, Connor Miller  ...

... C H I{ 1 s ,7 /vz A s NO: 12 HAVE A HAPPY VACATION EVERYONE-SEE YA' m THE 60 1 S Dec. 18, 1959 A CHRISTMAS POEM FROM YOUR CARBO 'J EDITORS Sing a song of Christmas, pocket full of cheer. Four and twenty Christmas a ves upon a mid nights clear. When the sun arises the .brownies disappear Novf isn 1 t that a shameful thing when Santa ts trip is near? His sled is in the parking lot, the raindeer in the garage. And good St. 'Nick., that jolly tole' soul, is about to get a massage. 'When up on the roof their came such a 'clatter, Santa sprang to his feet to see what's the matt er. ' And their appeared out of the sky an astonishing thing, a very, very tiny red and gree plane, and on it was written this very t.Mue., THE C.i',iU3ON ,WI$ijFiS 11 MEimY CHRISTMI\S TO ALL _AN_P..1_Q_ALL A GOOD NIGHTtt and Santa wondered frofl where came this flight., but we know Marian, the land of tho Knights. (l\.TTNENTION DR. PETIPAS don 1 t be alarmed when you read this poorn, if you wiah you niay 1.ook on it as a sati:re on Modern Poetry the editors) PAGE 2 (Merry Christmas) THE c:.RBON * * Marian grabbed a 17-14 margin and Es:;:-panded it to 38-Jl at t he intennissi -:.i c Aided by Jim Sohott's three suc0o~s ive tip-ins, Marian quickly Ul)ped ih l eud to 49-38 in the second half, t?ier,. worked. it to 70~51 for its bigcest m&r-gin of the night. Bill Murphy had 19 points and Schott- FROSH TO HOI.J) J'iNNUilL Dli..NCE RI GHT J~FTER Cfil{ISTi'u\S HOLIDAYS, JAN. 3th 19-::,0 14 to help out Sw:i.tts, who hit eignt. baskets and nine fron the charity stri, The dance vthich is a semi~.:'or~al. will bogln at 8:30 clil.d end at l:'.. ;30~ He:;:-man T~no:rs and the Headliners. If you have ~.lie money (2~:i a couple) we urge y ou to take care of it because you will be in a turmoil when you return in Jano The Knights r eturn to action on Jan., The ForostGrs i,r'.Y! be s eekin g r evonge, f or their loss 1.:.i:... , last night was on1y their second of t!!0 se 9son. Their othe r loss came at tl1e hands of unde f eate d Tayl or Collebe 5th at Huntington. Of c ourse we underst:md many of t he poor Sophomores are just that tpoor~o And if the school supports the Pen'iiHous e .Paxt;r like they did i.,he Sophomore J a zz (~0nccrt the Freshme n w:.11 be as bro:kle as t.~.G Class of t 62 is. The Kni ghts vlill go into thnt came with a 3- 7 r e co:..d but. with the imp.ro-ved kind of ball. pJ.nyi.n ~ t hn t ear.t h:.s showing J.ike l ~\a:t r,i [;b-v ard tho 8 c1Il10 against Indiana CenL:c,l tho other ni r,::.t wh en the Knights played that f i r st, hc1lf. like a ball of fire~ there seems t,0 b1; a much brighter futur e in storo f.Jr .:,~;o Marian fi v-e f or the r -Jst of the seas on. ...... 1.!hristmas Eve Take a Non-Catholic Friend t o M:i.d Night Mass last Year- I did Notice I said 1 a 1 friend, I mean one .m d only oneo Last year I took 8 of my t)uddies to Mass and it got out of hand. '.!:'hey were going t o do all I did and even followed me up t o communion, it was at the cathe qr al and the Mass was on T. V. and here I was turning around in front of the camaras and pushinr, my friends back up the aisle. During the High Mass when the bells were ringing and the srn9ke from the incense was rising one of our group thinking the church ablaze cried Fire. ks the basket was passed we all put some money in but cne of my friends asked the usher if ho was selling fish sticks, wh,w e ho got that information I shall never know. So Take someone to mid-night Mass if y-ou must but take my advice and make it only ona. You will be better off '5 , After the score was tied fi ve timi:s in the early stages of the opening hct 7 .~lso Congratulati ons to all those connecr-ed with the Christmas assembly yest0rd'.ly. r:.:~o star, a-s sl,.ould b~ was t:J.e Chdst :J-i~ld~ He was a vigoro'J.s re.:;0al wasn't r..:.~ Along with the beautifo\ i.nsict~s of our Virgin Mother the assembly was a very fine oneo * * * DECEMBER 18, 75-6o SCOltE GIVES KNIGHTS THElli J:'U) VICTORY NOW COiIBS A HOLIDAY REST, Paced by Bill Swatts 25 points our Knights took the lead midway in the first half last night and went on to clobber Huntington by 15 pointso Congrads to the student board (our sponsors) f or the fine Christmas party ?f the other night. We hope Santa brings everyli t.tle-o-thing every one asked for. .A.ncl to answer all questions yes the editor of the Carbon r eally was sick on the C..ay of the party but he recovered in time for the party O This is truth not fiction. * (HitPPY NEW YE."Jt) ~r ;r -~r * -n -;~- -~{- -~~ ?:- * _. ,: Some of our loyal fans will find this hard t o believe but I have seen s ome of the editions of the Carbon cast asic.1.e in -waste baskets, empty lockers, floating in in the lake and the like . Old Carbons make lovely Christmas wrappinc pape r o.nd the men in service des erve s ome good r eac: ing material, so send them your old Car ... bons. YOU WOULD DO IT.  ...

... NO 11 11 10N IT JUST -00 aOMETHING STAND THERE" l~N - OPEN LE7'TER TO THE S'J;'UI;)ENI' BODY OF DECEMBER 11, 159 MARIAN COLLEGE .ON THE YEARBOOK FOR 19c0 Last year Marian College had the .finest yearbo;k yet to be published by the school. After the complete absence of a yearbook in 1958, the students go together. and produced a_. fine represen.t ive publication. This year enthusiasm seems to be again -tapering o;ff Patron sales have dropped off t c.i" the point wl'iere this year 1 s ann\181 will mpre closely resemble a cheap imitation ' of a yearbook than the first--rate publication it shoul_g be. , Th~ staff has donated -generously of their time . and efforts to make this tho .best .year book yet, a book, which all Marian students can bo proud of, and justly so. But unless a concentrated effort is made to procure patrons; these plans will have to be abandoned. The quality of our yearbookdePends s olely upon we the students a~d on our willingness t9 support the project. _I don't think anyone wants a repeat . of th::l 1958 yearbook failure, but .it is inevi,table unless we do something, and do _something now. This is a personal project of each. stua.ent but from .the returns thus brought in ~so. far it would se~ to the staff that it is not a pe~sonal thing but ~ general affair. llhich concerns only, a few. A complete+y student operated project, it should reflect the . interest and ambitions of the stu~ent body. _ At this ra~e and stage in the game none can complain of its failure, but all may take pride in its success. . . . ... yours,.Di~k Simko THE CARBOO IJ)DS IT'S OWN 1 AMENt IF WE WOULD ALL .00 OUR OWN PART WE WILL PUIJ.. TRY TO GET' AT. l&ST 0~ PERSONAL P/-.TRON AD. TI-t'.T IS ONE AD FROM EA.CH OF ':!;HE 600 STUDFNTS IS A LOT .OF ADS AND ~J..... THROUGH THIS IN FINE STYLE. A GREhT HEIJ'. *HAPPY-BIRTHDAY * * '* TO* _YOU, * . * . * * * * * * * *' * * * * * * HAPPY BI ..._.-.,..,, TIIDAY To'ALL HOOSIERSU ! 11 ll . ~- '. T.ociay is a special day for al Hoosiera. Exact y ' lL) years ago today_, Dec. 11, 1e16., Indiana was admitted t the Union as the 19 h ~tate. The assembly of the Ind:i.ana Terri tory petitioned Con ess for admission i 1815, two years after the territorial seat of government d been moved from Vi cennes to Corydon. Corydon became the - first state capital il 1825 when-the ca "tal was moved to Indianapoli s Indiana was the 2nd state to be rved out of the No west territory coming aft er Ohio and followed by Illinois, Mi. higan and Wisconsin. Today Indiana is fast becomi g an indust.r i.a l pow amo ,pg states~ There. is more industrial building .and pla expansion going oh Iridiana tbdey th{!.~ in any other state. With a land area o 36 1 205 sq. miles apd a popla.tj,._on of over 4 million the leading cities a're India :polis, Fort W~yne, .t ry; .South Bend, Evansville, Hammond, Fast Chicago and Terre ute-. Indiana is not .d for its . fine educational centers like Indiana Purdue ., Notre Dame ani;l-. es ..of smD.ller schoolers Marian. Also.. a credit to diana are authors li e Lew waUaco,. 'Ernie Pyle, Booth TarYington -and the Hoosie Poet, James Whitcomb Riley. ' ' - The fa.nn land here is rich, amo ng th~ chief. .d~t,5 ares Corn, ~hec!,t,, . oats, hay, tomatoes-, potatoes, fruits, tobacco, hogs, '. . tle, ~heep, wool, dairy p~oquct.s., coal, -p etroleum and our leading ndustties are rop: an<;l Stf,181., agricu~tural -mach .. ip.ery, ca_n ning, ctr.ugs and ch~ cals and a a.eking. We may haya been lw.i;ieging a , pit . today but . we fe"3l 9P~ . ~Y- W , ~l:loul.d , be e:>etra prou~ of _our state. :like U., sc tl'rl:-,:.. :, .~- FllGE 2 , .. . . DF.CEMBER 111 19~; THE CARBON ' ;JIB. KNIGHTS J.F'IER :WIN NO~ 2 T .- .. ~ AND WE J,.LL KNOW WH/,T' FRI~Y IS ...... ... . .... .,.,, :.-. . .... FREEDOM FOR Tl:JO WEEl,S.-. .... , . ' . ., . . .. :-. ... '  ...

... www.nature.com/scientificreports OPEN Received: 27 July 2017 Accepted: 7 March 2018 Published: xx xx xxxx Identification of p38 MAPK as a novel therapeutic target for Friedreichs ataxia M. Grazia Cotticelli1,2, Shujuan Xia1,2, Avinash Kaur3, Daniel Lin1,2, Yongping Wang1,5, Eric Ruff4, John W. Tobias5 & Robert B. Wilson1,2,5 Friedreich ataxia (FRDA) is an autosomal recessive neuro- and cardio-degenerative disorder caused by decreased expression of frataxin, a protein that localizes to mitochondria and is critical for ironsulfur-cluster (ISC) assembly. There are no proven effective treatments for FRDA. We previously screened a random shRNA library and identified a synthetic shRNA (gFA11) that reverses the growth defect of FRDA cells in culture. We now report that gFA11 decreases cytokine secretion in primary FRDA fibroblasts and reverts other changes associated with cell senescence. The gene-expression profile induced by gFA11 is remarkably similar to the gene-expression profile induced by the p38 MAPK inhibitor SB203580. We found that p38 phosphorylation, indicating activation of the p38 pathway, is higher in FRDA cells than in normal control cells, and that siRNA knockdown of frataxin in normal fibroblasts also increases p38 phosphorylation. Treatment of FRDA cells with p38 inhibitors recapitulates the reversal of the slow-growth phenotype induced by clone gFA11. These data highlight the involvement of the p38 MAPK pathway in the pathogenesis of FRDA and the potential use of p38 inhibitors as a treatment for FRDA. Friedreich ataxia (FRDA) is an autosomal recessive neuro- and cardio-degenerative disorder characterized by progressive ataxia, areflexia, dysarthria, sensory loss, and hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. (Recent reviews include those by Koeppen and Mazurkiewicz1, Collins2, and Gomes and Santos)3. In the majority of cases, FRDA is caused by a GAA-triplet repeat expansion in the first intron of both alleles of the frataxin gene, FXN, resulting in decreased transcription and decreased protein. Frataxin is a mitochondrial protein critical for the assembly of iron-sulfur-clusters (ISCs), which are prosthetic groups important for the function of many proteins, including aconitase and complexes I, II, and III of the mitochondrial electron-transport chain (ETC). Decreased frataxin is associated with mitochondrial iron overload, mitochondrial dysfunction, and increased oxidative stress. Although ISCs are found in many proteins in many biochemical pathways, much less is known about non-mitochondrial ISC proteins affected by decreased frataxin; to what extent dysfunction in these pathways might contribute to the progression of the disease is still largely unknown. Many ISC proteins are involved in DNA repair, including MutY (Base-Excision Repair), XPD (Nucleotide-Excision Repair), and FancJ (inter-strand-crosslink repair), and increased DNA damage has been measured directly in peripheral blood cells from individuals with FRDA4. In the same study, the gene-expression profiles of patient cells were consistent with the presence of genotoxic stress, which correlated with ages of disease onset, frataxin mRNA expression levels, and scores on the International Cooperative Ataxia Rating Scale (ICARS). Based on these data, it was suggested that FRDA cells might decrease their growth rate as a homeostatic response to chronic genotoxic stress, thereby maximizing lifespan. As expected, frataxin knock-down in a neuronal cell line resulted in mitochondrial dysfunction; however, a decreased growth rate was also observed, as well as a phenotype resembling cellular senescence, including positivity for the senescence marker beta-gal5. DNA damage, caused by gamma-irradiation or exhaustive replication, is a known inducer of senescence in fibroblasts, a senescence associated with an increase in cytokine secretion. A Senescence Associated Secretion Phenotype (SASP) has been described in fibroblast cell lines; while the SASP is a consistent feature, each cell line also exhibits 1 Department of Pathology and Laboratory Medicine, Childrens Hospital Philadelphia, Philadelphia, PA, USA. 2The Penn Medicine/CHOP Center of Excellence for Friedreichs Ataxia Research, Philadelphia, USA. 3Marian University College of Osteopathic Medicine, Indianapolis, USA. 4State University of New York Downstate College of Medicine, New York, USA. 5Perelman School of Medicine at the University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia, USA. Correspondence and requests for materials should be addressed to R.B.W. (email: wilsonr@mail.med.upenn.edu) SCIENTIFIC Reports | (2018) 8:5007 | DOI:10.1038/s41598-018-23168-x 1 www.nature.com/scientificreports/ Figure 1. The sequences of gFA11 and variants. The DNA sequence encoding gFA11 is shown on the top line, with the loop sequence in bold. Below this are shown the siRNA sequences of gFA11 and its variants, Mut1 and Mut2, with the variant sequences of Mut1 and Mut2 in bold. Note that in both variants a C/G base-pair is changed to a G/C base-pair, which leaves the pair-bonding dynamics unchanged but would be expected to affect the target profile. unique aspects in its secretion profile6. Although triggered by DNA damage, the SASP requires, and is sustained by, activation of the stress kinase p38/MAPK147. We reported previously that primary fibroblasts derived from individuals with FRDA grow more slowly than normal control fibroblasts, particularly in media with galactose or beta-hydroxybutyrate (BHB) in place of glucose8, consistent with the known sensitivity of cells with mitochondrial dysfunction to non-glucose-based media9. We took advantage of the particularly robust sensitivity of FRDA fibroblasts to BHB-based media to screen a random shRNA library for reversal of the growth defect. Our library, which is completely random at the nucleotide level, allows for unbiased screening and selection for beneficial phenotypes10. Our screening in FRDA fibroblasts led to the identification of a random shRNA clone, gFA11, which consistently reverses the growth defect of primary FRDA fibroblasts in both BHB- and glucose-based media8. Sequences from gFA11 can be co-immunoprecipitated by an anti-Argonaute antibody, indicating that it likely exerts its effects through canonical RNAi8. We report herein that clone gFA11 also reverts the abnormal morphological changes and the SASP-like cytokine secretion phenotype associated with decreased FXN expression. Through bioinformatic analysis, we identified p38/MAPK14 as a possible mediator of these phenotypes. We show that p38 phosphorylation is increased in patient-derived cells and that inhibition of p38 also reverses the growth defect of primary FRDA fibroblasts. These results highlight the possible use of p38 inhibitors as therapeutic agents for FRDA. Results Growth phenotype. Clone gFA11 increased the growth of FRDA fibroblasts in BHB-based medium and in glucose-based medium approximately 1.5- and 2-fold, respectively; these differences reached statistical significance in one week8. To rule out that gFA11 simply conferred a non-specific growth advantage unrelated to the FRDA phenotype, we tested whether stable expression of gFA11 increased growth in U937 cells (derived from a histiocytic lymphoma), in MCF-10 cells (derived from mammary epithelium), and in apparently healthy primary human fibroblasts. The growth rate of the U937 and MCF-10 cells in BHB-based medium, or DMEM-glucose, was unaffected, even after two weeks in culture; the growth rate in the normal fibroblasts increased slightly in BHB-based medium, but only after two weeks, and the growth in glucose-based medium was unchanged (data not shown). To rule out that the beneficial effects of gFA11 are specific to fibroblasts, rather than to FRDA cells, we stably expressed gFA11 in 15850 cells, an immortalized FRDA lymphocyte line; gFA11 again conferred a growth advantage in glucose-based medium, reaching statistical significance after only one week (data not shown). These results suggest that while gFA11 does, at least partially, reverse the effects of BHB in fibroblasts, there is also a specific effect on FRDA cells. Of note, we have never seen cell immortalization associated with the introduction of gFA11. We previously co-immunoprecipitated processed gFA11 shRNA with Argonaute; sequences derived from both the sense and antisense strands were recovered, but the sense sequence (minus the initial C residue in the predicted shRNA) was much more abundant8. These data are consistent with canonical RNAi for the biological activity of gFA11, mediated by the sense strand (the first half of the top line in Fig. 1). To further investigate the mechanism of activity of gFA11, we designed two variants of gFA11, each containing a single point mutation (Fig. 1). When these mutated sequences, Mut1 and Mut2, were transfected, as siRNAs, into primary FRDA fibroblasts (GM3816), we found that most of the biological activity of gFA11 in reversing the growth defect in BHB-based medium was lost only with Mut1 (Fig. 2a), which was mutated in the canonical seed sequence of the sense strand (Fig. 1). Similar results were seen in GM3816 FRDA fibroblasts in glucose-based medium (Fig. 2b) and in the more severely affected GM3665 FRDA fibroblasts (Fig. S1a). In silico analysis. The availability of Mut1, which differs from clone gFA11 in only a single base but lacks most of gFA11s biological activity, allowed us to interrogate intracellular pathways affected by gFA11. GM3816 fibroblasts were transfected in triplicate with gFA11 siRNA or Mut1 siRNA four times over two weeks and grown SCIENTIFIC Reports | (2018) 8:5007 | DOI:10.1038/s41598-018-23168-x 2 www.nature.com/scientificreports/ Figure 2. Partial loss of phenotype in seed-sequence variant of gFA11A. (a) Primary FRDA fibroblasts GM3816 were transfected with gFA11, Mut1, and Mut2 siRNAs (Fig. 1). The cells were transfected twice over 7 days. Cells were kept in DMEM + 5 mM BHB after the first transfection. **p < 0.01 by ANOVA with Tukey pair-wise comparisons. (b) Primary FRDA fibroblasts GM3816 were transfected with gFA11, Mut1, or control (C3) siRNA, or mock transfected, every 34 days for a total of four times over 14 days. Cells were kept in DMEM + 5 mM glucose throughout. **p < 0.01 and ***p < 0.005 by ANOVA with Tukey pair-wise comparisons. Error bars represent means 1 SD. The averages shown were calculated on three independent replicates and the results are representative of at least two independent experiments. in BHB-based medium. RNA was extracted on day 14 and used for microarray analysis. The microarray results were analyzed using the Database for Annotation, Visualization and Integrated Discovery (DAVID) v6.7 software. The results of Functional Annotation Clustering analysis with the default medium stringency settings are shown in Fig. S2. The annotated references of a statistically significant number of genes were related to secretion in the top two clusters (with Enrichment Scores ES of 5.57 and 4.17; Fig. S2). We also performed the analysis using high-stringency parameters and found a significant enrichment for genes involved in cell-cycle regulation (ES of 2.36) and in chemotaxis (ES of 1.96) (data not shown). Strikingly, cytokines and cytokine receptors were at the top of the list of the 301 genes used for the analysis. We also used our microarray results to perform Ingenuity Pathway Analysis (IPA). This analysis identified the chemical compound SB203580, a known inhibitor of p38 MAP kinase, as an upstream regulator (z-score = +3.14). An upstream regulator is defined as a protein, a transcription factor, or a chemical substance that when activated (positive z-score) or inhibited (negative z-score) induces a gene-expression pattern similar to that observed in the microarray data. Taken together, these results suggest a role for p38 MAP kinase as a mediator of the biological activity of gFA11. Secretion phenotype. To verify the microarray results, we determined whether gFA11 affects cytokine secretion in primary FRDA fibroblasts. We transfected GM3816 FRDA fibroblasts with gFA11 siRNA or Mut1 siRNA four times over two weeks and cultured the cells in BHB-based medium. After the fourth transfection, cells were switched to DMEM without FBS for 24 h. The conditioned medium (CM) was then concentrated and the concentrations of 13 cytokines in the medium were measured by Luminex assay. The concentrations of eight cytokines GRO, RANTES, MCP-1, IL-8, IP-10 GM-CSF, VEGF, and IL-1beta were significantly decreased in cells transfected with gFA11 (p-values < 0.05) compared to cells transfected with Mut1 (Fig. 3a). These data are in agreement with the microarray data, with the exception of GM-CSF (q-value from microarray: 65). Also in agreement with the microarray data, TNF alpha, TNF beta, and IL-12 concentrations were not significantly different between the two cell populations (p-values = 0.2, 0.45, and 0.5, respectively). Finally, the concentration of IL-6 (with q value of 2 from the microarray) was consistently lower in the medium of cells transfected with gFA11, but this did not reach statistical significance (two-sided p-value = 0.08). IL-4 was undetectable in the medium. To confirm these data, we repeated the experiment with three differences: (1) to rule out effects of siRNA over-treatment, we stably expressed gFA11 shRNA in cells, (2) we used cells into which an empty vector was introduced as a control and, (3) we kept the cells in glucose-based medium throughout. The concentrations of GRO, MCP-1, IL-8, IL-6, IP-10, GM-CSF, and VEGF were all decreased in cells expressing gFA11 (Fig. 3b). VEGF SCIENTIFIC Reports | (2018) 8:5007 | DOI:10.1038/s41598-018-23168-x 3 www.nature.com/scientificreports/ Figure 3. Alterations in cytokine secretion induced by gFA11. (a) Primary FRDA GM3816 fibroblasts were transfected in triplicate with gFA11 siRNA or Mut1 siRNA four times over twelve days. After the first transfection, the cells were grown in DMEM plus 5 mM BHB. At day 12, after the fourth transfection, cells were incubated with DMEM with BHB but without FBS. The following day, the medium was collected, concentrated, and analyzed by Luminex assay. Cytokine concentrations were normalized by cell numbers. (b) Primary FRDA GM3816 fibroblasts were infected with a gFA11-encoding vector or empty vector (E). Infected cells were selected with puromycin and expanded in glucose-based medium. Cells were then seeded at low density and kept in medium without FBS for 24 hours before collecting, concentrating, and analyzing the medium. *p < 0.05; **p < 0.01; ***p < 0.005 by Students t test. Error bars represent means 1 SD. The averages shown were calculated on three (a) or four (b) independent replicates and the results are representative of two independent experiments. was quantifiable in the control (Mut1-expressing) samples but undetectable in cells expressing gFA11. IP-10 and GRO were below the detection threshold in all samples. Morphology and cell cycle analysis. During the course of these experiments, we noticed that the morphology of cells transfected with clone gFA11 was different from that of cells transfected with the clone Mut1 and markedly different from that of untransfected cells (Fig. 4a). Qualitatively, cultures transfected with gFA11 siRNA, or stably expressing gFA11, appeared healthier and had fewer enlarged, granular, senescent-appearing cells. These differences were quantified using side-scatter parameters from flow cytometry plots of GFP-positive GM3816 FRDA fibroblasts stably expressing gFA11 versus a random clone (Fig. 4b). Untransfected GM3816 FRDA fibroblasts, and GM3816 FRDA fibroblasts transfected with gFA11 siRNA, were compared using cell-cycle analysis; untransfected cells in G2/M were undetectable, whereas gFA11-transfected cells in G2/M were quantifiable (Fig. 4c). Similar results were seen with GM3665B FRDA fibroblasts (Fig. S1c). Activation of the p38 pathway in FRDA fibroblasts. The Senescence Associated Secretion Phenotype (SASP) in senescent fibroblasts is sustained through the activation of MAPK14/p387. From Ingenuity Pathway Analysis, the gene-expression profile of cells transfected with gFA11 siRNA was consistent with decreased activation of the p38 pathway. We measured p38 phosphorylation, a marker of activation of the p38 pathway, in primary FRDA fibroblasts and control, normal fibroblasts; in the FRDA cells, in which frataxin levels were ~520% of those seen in control cells (Fig. 5a), p38 phosphorylation was more than two-fold higher (Fig. 5b). We then tested whether a decrease in frataxin expression level was sufficient to activate the p38 pathway. Using siRNA directed against frataxin, we knocked down frataxin in normal control fibroblasts, achieving more than 99% knockdown of frataxin mRNA after 48 hours (data not shown). By ELISA, frataxin protein levels decreased to 40% at 48 h after one transfection and decreased to 20% of normal at 96 h after two transfections (Fig. 5c); concomitant increases in p38 phosphorylation were observed, reaching two-fold at 48 h and seven-fold at 96 h (Fig. 5d). Knocking down frataxin was also sufficient to increase IL-6 concentration in the cell-culture medium after one transfection (data not shown). The cells eventually lost viability after several days, presumably due to extremely low levels of frataxin protein, which has a finite half-life, and/or the rapidity of the frataxin decline. To rule out that the observed increase in p38 phosphorylation was simply due to incipient cell death, we included as a further control a toxic SCIENTIFIC Reports | (2018) 8:5007 | DOI:10.1038/s41598-018-23168-x 4 www.nature.com/scientificreports/ Figure 4. Effects of gFA11 on cell cycle and morphology. (a) Morphology of primary FRDA GM3816 fibroblasts transfected with gFA11 siRNA or Mut1 siRNA, or not transfected. Arrows indicate senescentappearing cells. (b) Flow-cytometric side scattering (SSC) of GM3816 and GM3665B cells infected with a gFA11-encoding or control-encoding (C3) vector. ***p < 0.005 by Students t test. (c) Cell-cycle analysis of GM3816 cells, untransfected or transfected 4 times with gFA11 siRNA over two weeks. Error bars represent means 1 SD. siRNA (C5) that we had previously shown to cause cell death over a similar time-frame; although C5 did activate the p38 pathway, the level of p38 phosphorylation in the cells in which frataxin was knocked down was still significantly higher (p < 0.05; Fig. 5d). Moreover, treatment of the cells with p38 inhibitors after each transfection with the frataxin siRNA did not rescue the cells from cell death (data not shown), suggesting that activation of the p38 pathway was not contributing directly to the death signal. Finally, we tested whether treatment with p38 inhibitors could reverse the growth defect of primary, commercially available FRDA fibroblasts (GM3816), in which p38 phosphorylation was approximately three-fold higher than in normal control cells (Fig. 6a). We administered the p38 inhibitor BIRB796 every 48 h and observed a dose-responsive increase in growth after two weeks (Fig. 6b); we tested higher concentrations and found that the growth increase associated with BIRB796 reached statistical significance in only one week (Fig. 6c). Similarly, BIRB796 increased the growth of DL156 primary FRDA fibroblasts (Fig. 6d). Importantly, the growth increase was never more than two-fold, thus matching, but not exceeding, the growth rate of normal control fibroblasts. P38 phosphorylation is associated with cytokine secretion in senescent fibroblasts7; conversely, cytokines can induce p38 phosphorylation, particularly in inflammatory diseases11. In normal primary fibroblasts in which frataxin was knocked down rapidly to approximately 60% of normal (Fig. 7a), BIRB796 decreased the moderately elevated p38 phosphorylation approximately 50%, to essentially normal levels (Fig. 7b), and decreased elevated IL-6 secretion approximately 80% (Fig. 7c). Consistent with findings from other investigators12,13, we found that treatment of normal control cells with BIRB796 also decreased p38 phosphorylation (Fig. 7b); consistent with our results described above, the knockdown of frataxin in the absence of drug was associated with a 1.7-fold increase in phosphorylated p38 (Fig. 7b). Knocking down frataxin resulted in a 40-fold increase in IL-6 secretion (Fig. 7c, first and third bars; p < 0.002 by ANOVA with Tukey pair-wise comparisons). In the presence of drug, the knockdown of frataxin was associated with a 4-fold increase in phosphorylated p38 (Fig. 7b), but the change in IL-6 secretion under these conditions did not reach statistical significance (Fig. 7c, second and fourth bars). SCIENTIFIC Reports | (2018) 8:5007 | DOI:10.1038/s41598-018-23168-x 5 www.nature.com/scientificreports/ Figure 5. Activation of p38 MAP kinase in FRDA cells. (a) Frataxin protein levels (by ELISA) in normal control fibroblasts (6030) and primary FRDA fibroblasts (4675, 156, 4491, 203). ***p < 0.005 by ANOVA with Tukey pair-wise comparisons. (The aggregate p value comparing the normal control to the FRDA cells combined was less than 1 10-8). (b) p38 phosphorylation in the same cells as in (a) *p < 0.05 by ANOVA with Tukey pair-wise comparisons. (156 and 4491 cells grew extremely slowly and only two replicates were possible; the aggregate p value comparing the normal control to the FRDA cells combined was 0.008). (c) Frataxin protein levels (by ELISA) in normal control fibroblasts (6030) transfected with a random siRNA, C3 (siC3), a known toxic siRNA, C5 (siC5), or an siRNA to frataxin (siFXN) after one transfection (left bar) or two transfections (right bar). The decrease with siFXN was associated with p < 0.005 in both cases by Students t test. (d) p38 phosphorylation in the same cells as in (c) *p < 0.05; ***p < 0.005 by Students t test. Error bars represent means 1 SD. The averages shown were calculated on three independent replicates and the results are representative of at least two independent experiments. Primary GM3816 FRDA fibroblasts exposed to low-cytokine medium from FRDA cells expressing gFA11 (Fig. 3, black bars), or to high-cytokine medium from control FRDA cells expressing Mut1 (Fig. 3, white bars), showed no difference in growth (data not shown). In addition, expression of gFA11 in primary GM3816 FRDA fibroblasts had no effect on p38 phosphorylation (Fig. S3). These data suggest that gFA11 acts downstream of p38, and that p38 phosphorylation in frataxin-deficient cells is not sustained by cytokines. Discussion We identified p38 inhibitors as possible therapeutic agents for Friedreich ataxia through the study of a synthetic shRNA clone that rescues the growth phenotype of FRDA fibroblasts8 and reverses hallmarks of cellular senescence, including cell-cycle distribution and cytokine secretion. The Senescence Associated Secretion Phenotype develops under conditions of genotoxic stress, in which cumulative DNA damage induces cell-cycle arrest and, through p38 activation, triggers the secretion of cytokines, particularly IL-6 and IL-8. A chronic, elevated level of DNA damage has been demonstrated in the lymphocytes of FRDA patients4. Herein we have shown a higher level both of p38 phosphorylation and cytokine secretion in primary fibroblasts derived from individuals with FRDA. Whether due to an increase in ROS or due to a deficit in iron-sulfur-cluster-containing DNA repair enzymes (or both), FRDA cells accumulate DNA damage and respond by progressively slowing down the cell cycle (Haugen et al.4, and references therein) and developing a secretory phenotype through p38 activation. We hypothesize that the damage and corresponding pathway activation are low-level and chronic, allowing the cells to adapt and gradually assume the morphology and behavior of senescent cells while continuing to replicate. Because they are continuing to replicate, albeit more slowly, their state might better be defined as pseudo-senescent. Consistent with this hypothesis, FRDA fibroblasts in G2/M are undetectable in culture, a result similar to that seen with neuronal cells in which frataxin was knocked down5. Alternatively, the secretion phenotype we observe might derive from a small percentage of cells constantly entering senescence, which seems unlikely given that we worked with small numbers of early-passage cells and generally kept them sub-confluent. In this alternative hypothesis, gFA11 would act to delay entry of a sub-set of FRDA fibroblasts into senescence without necessarily affecting the majority of the cells. The existence of a secretion phenotype in FRDA fibroblasts introduces a new layer of complexity in our understanding of the disorder as it supports the possibility that non-cell-autonomous effects contribute to the pathophysiology. Mitochondrial dysfunction per se can also induce a type of senescence Mitochondrial Dysfunction-Associated Senescence or MiDAS associated with a distinct secretion phenotype14. Decreased SCIENTIFIC Reports | (2018) 8:5007 | DOI:10.1038/s41598-018-23168-x 6 www.nature.com/scientificreports/ Figure 6. p38 inhibitors increase the growth of FRDA cells in a dose-dependent manner. (a) p38 phosphorylation status in control GM8399 fibroblasts and FRDA GM3816 fibroblasts. ***p < 0.005 by Students t test. (b) Primary FRDA GM3816 fibroblasts treated every 48 h with the p38 inhibitor BIRB796 at the concentrations indicated. Cells were counted at day 14. **p < 0.01 relative to carrier control (CC) by ANOVA with Tukey pair-wise comparisons. (100 nM reached a p value of 0.051 relative to carrier control.) Error bars represent means 1 SD. (c) Primary FRDA GM3816 fibroblasts treated every 48 h with the p38 inhibitor BIRB796, at the concentrations indicated. Cells were counted at day 7. (d) Primary DL156 primary FRDA fibroblasts were treated every 48 h with the p38 inhibitor BIRB796, at a concentration of 500 nM. *p < 0.05 relative to carrier control (CC) by Students t test. **p < 0.01; ***p < 0.005; relative to carrier control (CC) by ANOVA with Tukey pair-wise comparisons. Error bars represent means 1 SD. In all experiments, the averages shown were calculated on three independent replicates and the results are representative of at least two independent experiments. levels of the mitochondrial sirtuins Sirt3 and Sirt5 induce senescence and a secretory phenotype that lacks IL-6, IL-8 and VEGF14. MiDAS is driven by a decreased NAD+/NADH ratio, which results in p53 activation through AMPK phosporylation14. Intriguingly, in cardiomyocytes from mouse models of FRDA, Sirt3 activity is decreased secondary to an increased NAD+/NADH ratio15. The secretion phenotype of FRDA cells might well involve some combination of these two pathways and therefore might be associated with an unusual combination of cytokines. The cytokine secretion phenotype we observed in FRDA cells was augmented in medium containing beta-hydroxybutyrate, without qualitative changes, at least regarding the cytokines we measured; thus gFA11 and beta-hydroxybutyrate are potentially two important tools to study this phenotype. The physical targets of gFA11 are under investigation but remain, as yet, unknown. Given that cytokine secretion is regulated post-transcriptionally16, we explored the possibility that gFA11 could primarily down-regulate cytokine secretion, which could in turn alter p38 phosphorylation. However, p38 phosphorylation was unchanged in the presence of gFA11 (suggesting that gFA11 acts downstream of p38) and FRDA cells exposed to low- or high-cytokine conditioned medium showed no difference in growth, suggesting that p38 phosphorylation in frataxin-deficient cells is not sustained by cytokines. That cytokine secretion seems to have little or no effect on cultured fibroblasts is in agreement with the findings of Coppe et al. that the effects of the SASP are most evident on co-cultured epithelial cells17. In the context of FRDA, the effects of a secretory phenotype are yet to be explored. While gFA11 is highly efficacious, at least in our cell-culture models, the well-known problems associated with the delivery of small RNAs in vivo preclude clinical application any time soon. Through bioinformatic analyses of gFA11, we identified p38 inhibitors as inducers of a strikingly similar expression profile and showed that BIRB796, a well-characterized p38 inhibitor, also reverses the growth defect of FRDA fibroblasts. Whereas SCIENTIFIC Reports | (2018) 8:5007 | DOI:10.1038/s41598-018-23168-x 7 www.nature.com/scientificreports/ Figure 7. p38 phosphorylation is not sustained by cytokines. Primary apparently healthy fibroblasts GM8399 were transfected with FXN siRNA or a random control clone. Two hours after transfection, cells were incubated with DMEM without FBS in presence of 500 nM BIRB796 or carrier control. The following day, (a) frataxin protein levels, (b) p38 phosphorylation levels, and (c) IL-6 levels were measured by ELISA. **p < 0.01; ***p < 0.005 by ANOVA with Tukey pair-wise comparisons. Error bars represent means 1 SD. In all experiments, the averages shown were calculated on three independent replicates and the results are representative of at least two independent experiments. inhibition of p38-target phosphorylation is generally measured after administration of a single micromolar dose18, the effect on cell growth described herein was evident at nanomolar concentrations administered every 48 hours. That low doses, administered to FRDA cells at 48-hour intervals, are efficacious is consistent with the hypothesis that they are counteracting chronic, low-level p38 activation, such as we measure in patient-derived fibroblasts. Tian et al. identified ISCU a key component of the mitochondrial iron-sulfur-cluster assembly complex as a downstream target of MAPKAPK2/MK2 and showed that in Drosophila, as well as in mammalian cells, phosphorylation of ISCU results in lower complex I activity19. As MK2 is a target of p38 kinases, these data establish a link between the DNA damage response pathway and iron-sulfur-cluster assembly. Modulation of ISC assembly though ISCU phosphorylation is likely maladaptive in the context of FRDA, in which ISC assembly is already compromised due to low frataxin, and may thereby contribute to the phenotype. Strikingly, mutations in the yeast ISCU homolog, Isu1p, can bypass the need for yeast frataxin20,21. One limitation of the present study is that the causal relationship between p38 phosphorylation and cytokine secretion in the context of low frataxin remains to be determined. Knockdown of frataxin in the absence of p38 inhibitors increased both p38 phosphorylation and IL-6 secretion, whereas knockdown of frataxin in the presence of p38 inhibitor increased p38 phosphorylation but not IL-6 secretion. Note, however, that in the latter case, the increase in p38 phosphorylation was from sub-normal back to normal; if p38 phosphorylation per se causes IL-6 secretion in primary fibroblasts with low frataxin, then these results suggest that a certain threshold of p38 phosphorylation needs to be reached. Another limitation of the present study is the fact that, although primary FRDA fibroblasts exhibit many of the hallmarks of FRDA pathophysiology, including mitochondrial iron overload, mitochondrial dysfunction, and increased sensitivity to oxidative stress2224, fibroblasts are not an affected cell type in FRDA in vivo. Likewise, we cannot rule out that the phenotypes we have reported herein, including p38 activation and the SASP, are restricted to cultured fibroblasts. Nevertheless, the previous findings of Haugen et al. regarding DNA damage in FRDA4, the link between the DNA damage response pathway and the ISC assembly machinery through activation of the p38 pathway19, and the close correlations between these previous studies SCIENTIFIC Reports | (2018) 8:5007 | DOI:10.1038/s41598-018-23168-x 8 www.nature.com/scientificreports/ and the findings reported herein, are sufficiently compelling that we have initiated the testing of p38 inhibitors in mouse models of FRDA. The identification of gFA11, a highly efficacious shRNA with no discernable toxicity, validates our phenotypic screening approach to discover viable shRNA therapeutic candidates. With the addition of microarray analyses and bioinformatic pattern-matching, a single screen with our random, shRNA-expressing library potentially yields: small-RNA therapeutic candidates; conventional chemical-compound therapeutic candidates; drug-target candidates; and elucidation of disease mechanisms, which may inform additional therapeutic initiatives. Methods Cell lines. We obtained primary FRDA fibroblasts, GM3816 and GM3665B; age- and sex-matched apparently healthy control fibroblasts, GM8400 and GM8399; and FRDA lymphocytes, 15850, from Coriell (Coriell Institute for Medical Research, Camden, NJ). The FRDA fibroblasts have homozygous GAA repeat expansions in the first intron of the FRDA gene: GM3816 cells have moderate GAA repeat expansions of 223 and 490 repeats, while GM3665B cells have larger GAA repeat expansions of 790 and 1357 repeats. (GM3665B cells grow very slowly and were generally used to confirm results obtained with GM3816 cells, particularly in experiments that did not require a large number of cells.) Primary cells derived from the practice of Dr. David Lynch at the Childrens Hospital of Philadelphia were: apparently healthy fibroblasts (DL6030), FRDA fibroblasts with moderate GAA repeat expansions of 600 and 1200 repeats (DL4675) and with GAA repeat expansions of 500 and 570 repeats (DL156), FRDA fibroblasts with a GAA repeat expansion of 762 repeats and a G130V disease-associated missense mutation (DL4491), FRDA fibroblasts with homozygous GAA repeat expansions of 901 repeats (DL203). Subjects were recruited using the Friedreichs Ataxia Research Alliance database, by listing on Clinicaltrials.gov (NCT01965327), and through the practice of the Principal Investigator (PI). Declaration of Helsinki protocols were followed and all subjects provided written informed consent prior to participation. The Childrens Hospital of Philadelphia Institutional Review Board approved the study. Subjects were provided with a modest stipend for each visit. A glucose-free formulation of Dulbeccos Modified Eagles Medium (DMEM) was used for cell culture (Life Technology (11966-025)). To this base medium either glucose or DL-Beta-hydroxy-butyrate (Acros Organic-cat. 215011000) was added at 5 mM final concentration. During cell expansion the medium used was low-glucose DMEM (Life Technology 11885-076). All media were supplemented with 10% fetal bovine serum (Hyclone) and 1% penicillin/streptomycin. Cell Growth. Cell growth was quantified by counting cells using the CountessTM Counter (Life Technologies). Pictures were taken using an EVOS microscope. p38 inhibitors were from Selleckchem. Cell cycle analysis. Cells were washed, fixed with 70% ethanol and stained with Propidium Iodide at 20 ug/ ml for 20 min. The samples were analyzed on the FACSCalibur (FL2 channel, linear mode, FL2 area vs. FL2 width to plot). The analysis was performed with MOD-Fit LT software version 4.1. shRNA plasmids and siRNA. Sequences of the shRNA gFA11 and its variants, Mut1 and Mut2, are shown in Fig. 1. DNA and RNA oligonucleotides were from IDT DNA. siRNA against frataxin was from Origene. The gFA11-, Mut1-, and Mut2-expressing sequences were each cloned into the GFP-expressing vector, pSIREN, or in a puromycin-resistant version of the same vector (Clontech) to allow selection either by GFP sorting or by growth in puromycin-supplemented medium (1 ug/ml). To infect human cells, the single clones were packaged using amphitropic retroviral packaging plasmids. Double stranded siRNAs were transfected using the RNAi-max reagent (Life Technology) at a final concentration of 10 nM as per the manufacturers instructions. Cells were transfected every 34 days up to 14 days8. Clones C3 and C5 are random clones from the parent random shRNA-expressing library; C3 has essentially no effect on cells, and was used as a negative control, whereas C5 is toxic to cells, and was used as a cell-death control. ELISA. Quantification of frataxin, total and phosphorylated p38, and IL-6 was performed by ELISA using the corresponding Abcam kits as per the manufacturers instructions. Luminex analysis. Cytokine secretion was measured as described in Coppe et al.17. GM3816 cells at passage 17 were transfected with gFA11 siRNA or Mut1 siRNA every 34 days over twelve days. After the first transfection, cells were kept in BHB-based medium at all times. After the fourth transfection, cells were allowed to recover for 1 h, then medium without FBS was added. GM3816 cells were infected at passage 14, selected, and expanded for at least six weeks. Infected cells were seeded at low density and medium without FBS was added 48 hours later. To harvest cytokines, cells were kept in 4 ml medium without FBS, but containing either BHB or glucose for 24 h. The medium was concentrated using Amicon Ultra-4 Centrifugal Filter Units (3000 kDa cut-off) and analyzed by Luminex assay using the Human Cytokine MAGNETIC Kit (HCYTOMAG-60K-07.EMD Millipore) at the Human Immunology Core facility of the University of Pennsylvania. Microarray analysis. GM3816 fibroblasts were transfected in triplicate with clone gFA11 or clone Mut1 four times over two weeks and grown in BHB-based medium after the first transfection. RNA was extracted at day 14 by using the Qiagen mRNAeasy kit. RNA quality control, reverse transcription, and hybridization to the Human Gene 2.0 ST GeneChips (Affymetrix Inc., Santa Clara CA) were performed by the University of Pennsylvania Molecular Profiling Facility. To quantify expression levels of targeted genes, RMA normalization was applied using Partek Genomics Suite v6.6, yielding log2-transformed normalized intensities. Genes were analyzed for differential expression using Significance Analysis of Microarrays (SAM; samr v2.0)25. The gene list was then sorted by q values, a statistical parameter that takes into account the magnitude of the differences, the precision SCIENTIFIC Reports | (2018) 8:5007 | DOI:10.1038/s41598-018-23168-x 9 www.nature.com/scientificreports/ of the data, and correction for multiple comparisons. The q value calculated by SAM represents false discovery rate on a scale of 0100. The 301 genes with a q value of zero were analyzed using the Database for Annotation, Visualization and Integrated Discovery (DAVID) v6.7. Functional annotation analysis finds the most overrepresented biological terms associated with a given gene list; the annotation coverage includes more than 40 categories, including GO, KEGG, and BioCarta pathways. An enrichment score (ES) >1.3 is considered significant. Genes that differed in expression >1.5 fold and were associated with a q value 10 were also analyzed through the use of Ingenuity Pathway Analysis (Ingenuity Systems, www.ingenuity.com) through the UPenn Molecular Profiling Facility. Microarray data are available in the ArrayExpress database (www.ebi.ac.uk/arrayexpress) under accession number E-MTAB-4699. Statistics. For simple comparisons of two means, p values were derived from Students t test and are two-sided. Analysis of variance (ANOVA) was performed using R (version 3.4.1), with post-hoc analysis by the Tukey method for pair-wise comparisons. Independent replicates within an experiment refers to cells that were plated independently, cultured independently, treated independently (transfected, infected, combined with drug or carrier control), and analyzed independently. Where indicated, we repeated experiments in their entirety to confirm results. Because primary cells change with passage number, and because infection and transfection efficiencies differ from one experiment to the next, we generally did not combine data from confirmatory independent experiments. Data availability. The datasets generated during and/or analyzed during the current study are available from the corresponding author on reasonable request. References 1. Koeppen, A. H. & Mazurkiewicz, J. E. Friedreich ataxia: neuropathology revised. J Neuropathol Exp Neurol 72, 7890 (2013). 2. Collins, A. Clinical neurogenetics: friedreich ataxia. Neurol Clin 31, 1095120 (2013). 3. Gomes, C. M. & Santos, R. Neurodegeneration in Friedreichs ataxia: from defective frataxin to oxidative stress. Oxid Med Cell Longev 2013, 487534 (2013). 4. Haugen, A. C. et al. Altered gene expression and DNA damage in peripheral blood cells from Friedreichs ataxia patients: cellular model of pathology. PLoS Genet 6, e1000812 (2010). 5. Bolinches-Amoros, A., Molla, B., Pla-Martin, D., Palau, F. & Gonzalez-Cabo, P. Mitochondrial dysfunction induced by frataxin deficiency is associated with cellular senescence and abnormal calcium metabolism. Front Cell Neurosci 8, 124 (2014). 6. Tchkonia, T., Zhu, Y., van Deursen, J., Campisi, J. & Kirkland, J. L. Cellular senescence and the senescent secretory phenotype: therapeutic opportunities. J Clin Invest 123, 96672 (2013). 7. Freund, A., Patil, C. K. & Campisi, J. p38MAPK is a novel DNA damage response-independent regulator of the senescenceassociated secretory phenotype. EMBO J 30, 153648 (2011). 8. Cotticelli, M. G. et al. Phenotypic Screening for Friedreich Ataxia Using Random shRNA Selection. J Biomol Screen 20, 108490 (2015). 9. Robinson, B. H., Petrova-Benedict, R., Buncic, J. R. & Wallace, D. C. Selective killing of cells with oxidative defects in galactose medium: a screening test for affected patient fibroblasts. Biochemical Medicine & Metabolic Biology 48, 1226 (1992). 10. Wang, Y., Wang, Y. E., Cotticelli, M. G. & Wilson, R. B. A random shRNA-encoding library for phenotypic selection and hitoptimization. PLoS ONE 3, e3171 (2008). 11. Coulthard, L. R., White, D. E., Jones, D. L., McDermott, M. F. & Burchill, S. A. p38(MAPK): stress responses from molecular mechanisms to therapeutics. Trends Mol Med 15, 36979 (2009). 12. Branger, J. et al. Anti-inflammatory effects of a p38 mitogen-activated protein kinase inhibitor during human endotoxemia. J Immunol 168, 40707 (2002). 13. Zhang, Y. et al. Multiple signaling pathways regulate contractile activity-mediated PGC-1alpha gene expression and activity in skeletal muscle cells. Physiol Rep 2 (2014). 14. Wiley, C. D. & Campisi, J. From Ancient Pathways to Aging Cells-Connecting Metabolism and Cellular Senescence. Cell Metab 23, 101321 (2016). 15. Wagner, G. R., Pride, P. M., Babbey, C. M. & Payne, R. M. Friedreichs ataxia reveals a mechanism for coordinate regulation of oxidative metabolism via feedback inhibition of the SIRT3 deacetylase. Hum Mol Genet 21, 268897 (2012). 16. Anderson, P. Post-transcriptional control of cytokine production. Nat Immunol 9, 3539 (2008). 17. Coppe, J. P. et al. Senescence-associated secretory phenotypes reveal cell-nonautonomous functions of oncogenic RAS and the p53 tumor suppressor. PLoS Biol 6, 285368 (2008). 18. Cuenda, A. et al. SB 203580 is a specific inhibitor of a MAP kinase homologue which is stimulated by cellular stresses and interleukin-1. FEBS Lett 364, 22933 (1995). 19. Tian, L. et al. Thep38 pathway regulates oxidative stress tolerance by phosphorylation of mitochondrial protein IscU. J Biol Chem 289, 3185665 (2014). 20. Yoon, H. et al. Mutation in the Fe-S scaffold protein Isu bypasses frataxin deletion. Biochem J 441, 47380 (2012). 21. Yoon, H. et al. Frataxin-bypassing Isu1: characterization of the bypass activity in cells and mitochondria. Biochem J 459, 7181 (2014). 22. Delatycki, M. B. et al. Direct evidence that mitochondrial iron accumulation occurs in Friedreich ataxia. Ann. Neurol. 45, 673675 (1999). 23. Cotticelli, M. G. et al. Primary and secondary drug screening assays for Friedreich ataxia. J Biomol Screen 17, 30313 (2012). 24. Cotticelli, M. G., Crabbe, A. M., Wilson, R. B. & Shchepinov, M. S. Insights into the role of oxidative stress in the pathology of Friedreich ataxia using peroxidation resistant polyunsaturated fatty acids. Redox Biol 1, 398404 (2013). 25. Tusher, V. G., Tibshirani, R. & Chu, G. Significance analysis of microarrays applied to the ionizing radiation response. Proc Natl Acad Sci USA 98, 511621 (2001). Acknowledgements We thank our colleagues in the Center of Excellence for Friedreichs Ataxia research for helpful discussions, and David Lynch (Childrens Hospital of Philadephia) for the primary DL203, DL4419, and DL4675 FRDA fibroblasts. This work was supported by the Friedreichs Ataxia Research Alliance, and the Hamilton and Finneran families. SCIENTIFIC Reports | (2018) 8:5007 | DOI:10.1038/s41598-018-23168-x 10 www.nature.com/scientificreports/ Author Contributions M.G.C. performed experiments and, with R.B.W., primarily designed and interpreted experiments and wrote the main manuscript text. S.X., A.K., D.L., Y.W., and E.R. performed experiments and made substantive contributions to experimental design and interpretation. J.W.T. performed and interpreted bioinformatic analyses. All authors reviewed the manuscript. Additional Information Supplementary information accompanies this paper at https://doi.org/10.1038/s41598-018-23168-x. Competing Interests: Robert B. Wilson and Yongping Wang have patents, in conjunction with the University of Pennsylvania, related to the construction and methods of use of random shRNA-expressing libraries. M. Grazia Cotticelli, Shujuan Xia, Avinash Kaur, Yongping Wang, John W. Tobias, and Robert B. Wilson have a provisional patent application, in conjunction with the University of Pennsylvania, on the use of p38 inhibitors for the treatment of FRDA; this provisional patent was licensed to FA Therapeutics LLC, in which Robert B. Wilson has a 5% equity interest. Publisher's note: Springer Nature remains neutral with regard to jurisdictional claims in published maps and institutional affiliations. Open Access This article is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License, which permits use, sharing, adaptation, distribution and reproduction in any medium or format, as long as you give appropriate credit to the original author(s) and the source, provide a link to the Creative Commons license, and indicate if changes were made. The images or other third party material in this article are included in the articles Creative Commons license, unless indicated otherwise in a credit line to the material. If material is not included in the articles Creative Commons license and your intended use is not permitted by statutory regulation or exceeds the permitted use, you will need to obtain permission directly from the copyright holder. To view a copy of this license, visit http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/. The Author(s) 2018 SCIENTIFIC Reports | (2018) 8:5007 | DOI:10.1038/s41598-018-23168-x 11  ...