The Belles of Saint Mary’s
December 15, 1943
The Belles
OF SAINT MARY’S
Published every two weeks by the stu
dent body of Saint Mary’s School.
Editor I'^RENciiiE McCann
Exchange Editor Saka Stockton
FaciiUg Adviser C. A. P. Moore
STAFF
Vidette Bass I’btsa' Bono
.Tayde liEi.i. Emily McMillan
Mary ISerry Ciiinkie Martin
Eva Blackmek Anna M. Moomaw
liETSY liLOUNT SUE MOORE
Kate Broadfoot Ulth Moore
Betsy Burke Peggy Moran
Pinkie ISittler Georgia Miirwiy
Peggy Cates Birri’Y Nicoix
Eoxie Clarke .Teannette I’arkkr
Mar.iorie Cole .Tane Peete
Fannie Cooper Billye Pope
Rebecca Drane Isabel Uobinso.n
Marietta Uuke Margaret ItonwEi.r.
Betsy Durham Lucy Seaman
•lEANNE PlAGLES ANN STEI’IIENS
liETTY Edwards Carol Talbot
I’.ETTY Gaither Cacie 'I’aliaeerro
Caroline Gaither Michelle Telfair
Shirley Goode Mary Arden Tucker
.Maria Gregory' Stuart Verdery
ItuTii Hayes Patty' Weaver
•ioAN IIayiner Harriet ‘Whitaker
Bobby Jean Hardy Betty' tViNSLOw
A’ibginia Hart Brent Woodson
.Maria,Bego .Vlyia Young
Member
Plssodded Golle6iale Press
N. C. Collegiate Press Association
Letters to the Editor
Saint Mary’s School
Raleigh, N. 0.
Dear Editor,
It is rumored that there are quite
a few poetesses in our midst. Could
this he true? If so, ivliy couldn’t
we see soim^ of their work in the
column “Like Poetry ?”
We all like good poetry, so if thi.s
local talent is good, why can’t the
whole student body jirofit hy it?
I’m sure there are a few girls in
school, who, with a little persuasion,
would he glad to contribute their
“creations of genius.” The poems
submitted might he ,judged and per-
hajis the he.st he printed. How about
it?
Sincerely,
Sonnet.
ED. — “The Belles” welcomes
original poetry, and will gladly
print any good poetry submitted.
BELLES
UKBKCCA WOOD DKANF
Home—-Monroe.
.Vge—18.
Hair ’n’ eyes—du.st brown and blue.
.\mbition—to get an andiition.
Pi't hate—being told to hurry.
SjMuid.s siiare time—(ain’t remeudier.
Alvt'.ys heard—“Don’t you want to
give me 10?”
.Vhvays .seen—dashing around hug
ging a notebook and iiencil.
Ilohhy—jiainting green-haired imji.s.
Favorite article of ('lothing—m.y
black coat.
Favorite perfunm—Heaven Sent.
(My roommate’s.)
Favorite food—soft shell crabs.
Favorite song—“Stardust.”
Is looking forward to—Christmas.
Odd like.s—storms and raw clams.
Worst fault—decided indecision.
Is wild about—vacations.
A unique personality, an I.Q. way
out in front of oY'erybody ehse’s, and
an unsurpassed sense of humor are
characteristics which classify Re
becca as one of the girls that Saint
iVIary’s is jiroudest to claim. Wheth
er looking after the Canterbury
(’luh’s ])lans or submitting c.omposi-
tions to the literary society, she ex
hibits her own quaint manner vdiich
has endeared her to everyone. In
addition to directing the (Canterbury
('lub, Rebecca is a member of the
F. A. P. Literary Society, th(>
Granddaughters' Club, the French
Club, the Political Science Club, the
.Htar Guild, the Publications Staff,
and tlu‘ (’ircle.
MAKIBVX .M.VKIK MITCHFB1>
Honu'—Roanoke, Va.
Age—17 (Shhh!)
Hair ’n’ e.yes—brown ’ii’ brown.
.Vmhition—to get in the Hav'y( ?).
Pet hat(>—breakfast.
Sjiends spare time—day-dreaming.
Always heard—“sompin’ ’bout.”
.Vlways seen—with Rylander.
Hobby—writing post cards.
Favorite article of clothing—m,v tan
sport .jacket.
Favorite perfume—Suivez-moi.
Favorite food—chocolate ice cream.
_ Favorite song—“The Dreamer.’
Is looking forward to—going back
to Georgia.
Odd like.s—gold Yvings.
Worst fault—keejiing people wait-
ii>g-
Is wild about—the ^ayy Air (torps.
“Molly” quietly accomplishes an
amazing amount of work while the
rest of the seniors scream about all
they have to do and aceomplish
nothing. Her sincerity and compe
tence have made her rank as one of
the most valuable members of her
class, while her jioise and friendli
ness acconni; for her pojiularity.
Resides acting as student chairman
of the Legislative Body, Molly is
treasurer of the French Club, vice-
(iresident of the Political Science
(dub, and a member of the Doctors’
Daughters’ Club and tlu; .Vltar
Guild.
M.AHGAIIET 1‘EXKBOPF A\TNSIX)W
Hohu'—Rocky Mount.
.Vg(!—19.
Hair ’ll’ eyes—blonde (afti'r a fash
ion) and blue.
Ambition—to he through school.
Pet hate—getting np.
Sjiends sjiare time—going to the
movies. (I’d rather go than eat.)
Always heard—“What’s that?”
.Vlways seen—late, hut there.
Hobby—buying records.
Fai'orite article of clothing—blue
shoes.
Favorite iierfuim^—April Showers.
(Yon know—they bring Ma.y
dowers. I love dowers.)
Favorite food—sjiarerihs.
.Favorite song—“I’m Lovelv to Look
At.”
Is looking forward to—Mag’s Head
after the war.
Odd likes—the Mav.y . . . wher>
every man’s a king.
Worst fault—hii.ying ivcords.
Is wild about—housenarties at Mag’s
Head and the Mayy.
“We have seY’cral annouiUT'ments
this morning; the first . . . etc.”
and the student body huinehes into
one of those well-planned asseinhl.v
[irograms arrangi'd by Margaret.
Resides taking eart^ of this all time
job and looking after the Mavy, she
finds time to attend a surprising
number of movies, get in a little
e.xtra sleep nmv and then, and in
dulge in various extracurricular ac
tivities. In her own intelligent and
enthusiastic manner Margaret acta
as jiresident of the French Club and
takes jiart in the activities of the
Granddaughters’ ('luh, the E. A. I*.
Literary Society, the Political Sci
ence Club, the Altar Guild, the
Choir, and the Glc(‘ (dnb.
CHRISTMAS WITHOUT
CAROLS
The fire rages and shows its poYver,
hiding its charm. It feeds on bitter
stuff and, as he looks down on it.
the bo.y sees not the fire that it is.
but he remembers that it is Decem
ber 2.5th—(diristmas Day. This is
not Christmas! Rut there had been
others and there would be more.
Yes, he did associate fire Yvith
Christmas; that Yvas all he had nmv
that was tangible. Rut the intangi
ble thing.s—
He remembered Yvhen he’d found
a little shining, j)rankish cocker
pupj)y one Christmas morning and
had sjient the entire day with him.
])laying in front of the fire.
—the ynle log, the carols, the
bells—
Then the fire spread its friendly
light over his electric train and this
time was ei'en more Yvonderful be
cause it also shone on a baby sister,
playing with a soft fuzzy teddy bear
at her own newly added stocking.
—the stockings, the candy, the
nuts, cheer—
And the day he got a bicycle and
a new sled. That day he left the
fire.
—the snow, the cold, the Yvind, the
fun of living—
The fire was just as bright when
he got his first gun—a rifle—and he
laughed at his sister’s dolls.
—lovely dolls, doll carriages, doll
clothes, doll house's, frills and ruf
fles—
Mext came his radio and the thrill
of taking it all to ])i('ces and then
putting it hack together again, near
the ])ointing fingers of the fire and
under the Christmas tree.
—green limbs, red balls, silver
tinsel, blue lights—
Latei', much later it seemed, he’d
stood near another bedecked fir and
watched a girl’s tivinkling eyes as
she ripj)cd the jiaper from a crystal
bottle that enclosc'd one of those ele
gant scents that we usually knoYv
only through snm{)tuous advertise
ments. Of course, his mother had
seh'cted it, and the little sister, she
now likc'd bikes and things like that,
thought it was all too silly. Rut it
was the girl mnv that stood under
the mistletoe and Yvhose lij)s he kiss-
('d and ivliose eyes his laughed with.
—the mistletoe, the holly, the
candles—
Another Christmas, when he was
in college, he’d again left that fire
for the sleek new convertible that
first gav(' him that ivonderful sense
of frc'edom and jjOYver that he was
later to know so well.
—snow, ice, stars—
Then still another (fiiristmas, an-
otlu'i' fire. This time it shone on
that single gold stri[)c against the
dark navy of his sleeve and on the
new goldness of his wings. It shone
on his sister’s glist(*ning hair, and he
realized that she was now growia?
np in her own right. His girl’s ey(-^
sparkled in the firelight, too, and lu^
reflected their light. Rut most of
all, he saw his father’s grim sinih
of pride and his mother’s tear-
stained eyes.
Yes, every one of these Christ'
mases ivas a memory worth an}'
I)i'ice. A memory that comes flafl>'
ing hack to him as he dips his winf'
for a final look at the burning slui'
below.
He realized that this was tin'
Christmas that could give the most
to his world. This was the Christ
mas that he and his friends in the
Yvet coldness of the Aleutians aii'l
the stinking heat of the Solomons
and the opague quagmire of Ital.''
and the bleak solitude of the sea and
the Y'ast greatness of the air Yvould
recall most often.
For it Yvas this Christmas that
made them Yvant to giY-e Christmases
like they had knoYY-n to their children
and the children of the Yvorld. Onl.''
then, they, the men Yvho’d seen a
torn Yvorld, Yvould realize that free
dom and liberty and peace are fat'
more a part of Christmas than an
the snoYY', stockings, and tradition-t’
The plane moY'es arvay into the
setting sun—there is more YY’ork to
he done.
I WON’T BE HOME FOR
CHRISTMAS
The letter lay in her laj).
Yvon’t be home for Christmas, dear-
I’lanes are moY'ing out constantly-
I knoYv you’ll understand. Afto),
all, there Yvill he other Christmases
She bit her lip. Other Christmases -
Yes, there had been others. Sh?
stared into the fire as carols drifteo
in through the YvindoYV'. EY-en the
snoYv Yvas there, to remind her ot
those other Christmases.
There Yvas the Christmas dance-
tYvo years ago, Yvhen she had
met Rob. She had danced Yvith bin*
only once, .Yvhen he told her she YvaS
going to marry him. He had gi''’^^
her a Yvonderful rush, but eY-en she
had been surprised Yvhen they yvci'C
married, three Yveeks later.
The next Christmas had been
spent here at home. They had
to few jiarties. It had been enough
to sit here before the fire, opening
the presents together. Tlu^y hnc)'
then that he Yvonld go into the a*'
corps, but no plans had been nuuhj
Tears Yvere coming noYV. It
Yvasn’r fair. The gay little tre^’
loaded Yvith trimmings, looked J"'
a little gaudy. The brightly "’'ap
ped pri'sents piled heloYV it, had
I ^ XV, ,
their interest and th(> holly on
mantle Yvas beginning to Yvitlp’*'
Tlu' carolers were hack ngujh)
crunching through the snow, singi'‘r
their songs of joy and ])en(!C. 'fd' '
Pc'ace ?
The drone of i)lanes checked hi|
sobs as she stopj)cd to listen.
motor cut out, then in, out, 'U. , ^
rushed to the YvindoYv. Rob, it
be. She remembered the last ot >
letter. “I’ll be Yvith vou. ni.V
lOY’C-
in CY-erything you do. Kc'cp u
on that sweet face.” Yes, he ha
been Yvith her. but all the 'voi’k a'
had doni'—it Yvas all for nothing- ^
She YvipcYl away the last tear
her cheek, and cY-en manageu
The
smile for the departing plane.
turkey and tr-(' didn’t hare to g*’
YY'aste. there yyhs the FSO.
he