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By Violeta Castro
1 was waiting for Betty. She
had said something about picking
nie up at two o’clock in front of
Clewell when she asked me to talk
in some high school in town about
Easter holidays in Equador. I was
almost sure she had said two
o’clock, but I went to the reception
room of Clewell with ten minutes
of anticipation. I waited for five
minutes, but the dark, dusty and
sort of ancestral atmosphere of the
place scared me away, in spite of
my strong disbelief in ghosts. I
decided to go outside to wait for
Betty and at the same time to
enjoy the beautiful
afternoon.
Sitting on the front steps of
South, I began to enjoy myself
thoroughly. f watched the new'
yellowdsh tops of the trees and
heard the birds singing that com
mon and expressive tune wdrich
they have picked up, simply picked
up—I saw many cars driven in a
sort of rush especially by ladies. I
saw the strangest, most colorful
and most flowery hats on the ladies
inside the cars, all of them running
towards the Moravian Church.
Eventually I saw Gunilla and
Beatriz who as usual were going
toward their hope—and so many
times motive of discouragement—
the post office. My social spirit
decided to exchange nature and
Wordsworth for Beatriz, Gunilla
and Bernard Shaw (the latter
being the subject of my term
paper). I tried to call their at
tention by whistling that common
and American whistle. They turned
looking for a bird. I had to yell
their names. They joined me in a
few minutes and, complaining as
usual about the inconsistancy of
their friends, they sat down by my
side on the front steps of South
keeping me company ‘till Betty
w'ould come.
At this point I have to confess
that sometimes, as a sort of sick
ness, a shadow comes to obtuse my
memory about dates. I started
feeling the symptoms of the sick
ness—a little, but audacious, an
guish began to threaten my natural
calmness, and when watching the
cars, I no longer looked for the
funny hats but for the amiable and
fresh, smiling face of Betty.
Beatriz turned to Gunilla com
plaining about the bathing-suit she
was wearing under her dress which
in my opinion (and anybody who
knows the mentioned bathing-suit
will agree) is a bit too tight for
her. She vvas planning to take a
sun bath. Gunilla was going to say
something but, choosing action, she
stood up briskly telling us that the
second mail car was in the street.
1 was silent, rather silent. Inter
ruptions every three seconds made
me break my silent preoccupation.
There were- faculty members and
other people passing by trying to
get to the Moravian Church.
Gunilla, ready to jump to the
sidewalk, had to stop short. Three
words petrified us with their salo-
monic statement—“Nothing to do ?
the lady exclaimed. She stopped,
arms akimbo, waiting for some re
action. I could but smile at her.
Gunilla hesitated looking straight
at the mail car; so Beatriz miracul
ously solved the situation by an
swering: “Madam, I love
Holy Thursday
doing nothing,” (which mostly is
very true). I suppose this paradox
shocked and confused her, because
after a flickering of her eyes, which
I interpreted as an effort to con
centrate, she gave up. Turning
away from us without a word, she
continued her way towards the
Moravian Church.
A soft breeze came to refresh
my mind, giving me the idea to
call Betty’s home to ask the reason
for her not appearing. The girls
offered themselves to wait for
Betty while 1 made the call. On
my way to Bitting I found Ragn-
sunny April ' hild’s roommate and Ragnhild her
self. When they told me that
Betty had been calling me all over
the campus, I saw in all its clarity
the terrible star of my day. I
knew then that Betty must have
looked for me in Clewell the min
ute I left it.
I ran to call Betty’s home. A
soft voice answered; I besought
the voice to tell her to come back
and get me. The soft voice re
plied that Betty had gone to choral
rehearsals in church but that she
would be told. I timidly asked,
“Madam, may I know if the church
is too far away from Salem?”
Out in the street once more, I
saw Gunilla and Beatriz involved
in a pretty hot discussion, but the
minute they saw me they stopped.
I imagine out of solidarity towards
me, for I was absolutely speechless.
I sat down again. We the three
in a row. For the first time the
step seemed a little crowded, but
I felt too tired to move; besides
a wild wind was. blowing now,
making me forget everything
around me.
The protesting whispers of the
trees as the wind passed through
—They pass in the middle of the
street singing all sorts of religious
songs to the Virgin and the Child
—Mock devils singing grotesques
songs dressed to Lucifer. |
I used to sit in the open window
and wait for the procession—six,
five, four years old—oh, I don’t
remember since—Absolutely scared
and fascinated at the same time.
It was wonderful to feel oneself
so secure in the window, but I
pressed my servant’s hand when
the devil looked at me making hor
rible faces and contortions.
And then, seven, eight, nine years
old, when I was dressed in white
for singing or mourning on the
eve of the death of Christ. Event
ually when I became a young lady
w'ho on those days would try to
sing or joke, my mother’s voice re
proaching : “Nina, como te atreves !
My child, how can you dare! Over
and over. “How can you dare!
How can you dare!” But it w'as
no use. I was too big a girl, and
I dared one and one thousand
times. Finally, mother’s voice fad
ing (for she perhaps thinks my
salvation might be secured from
another direction.) But even she
has lost all her hope; she keeps
protesting in her low voice which
is like the wind wispering—How
can you dare. How can you dare.
How can you dare?
Beatriz, Gunilla and I jumped
again. A horn blew in our noses.
I thought: “At last Betty,” but it
was not Betty. Two day students
were greeting us. “They won’t
dare,” I said to myself. They did
not. They just slowed down their
car and passed smiling and wav
ing. I smiled back to them.
I turned to Gunilla and Beatriz
Mrs. Gramley Mothers Boys^
Plays Bridge And Raises Flowers
the branches brought me the feel- and noticed they were a bit wrink
ing of my frustrated s p e e c h—
Easter holidays in Ecuador. The
wTispers of the procession—I used
to love processions wdien I was
little—They were gay and mourn-
ful_Gay in the morning wTen so
very early in the day most of the
people are young—Mournful in the
night w'here mother and grand
led and dreamy. Looking at the
disappearing car, Beatriz spoke;
“It seems to me this is the first
time I see a car running in the
opposite direction from the Mora
vian Church.” I don’t know why
I just knew it was time to leave
the hospitable front steps of South,
so I said, “It’s three o’clock,” and
mother used to go dressed in black we walked on down the street.
TWIN CITV
IDI^Y CUANU>ii GOl
Phone Dial 7106
Winston-Salem, N. C.
612 West 4th St-
Complete Auto Service At
SALEM SHELL SERVICE
1036 S. Main St.
to be
Morrisettes
Dept Store
4th at Trade
DOBY’S
BAKERY
640 W. 4th St.
Dial 2-4126
We specialize in Wedding,
Birthday, and Party Cakes
also Bread sliced any thick-
L.l^terls
WINSTON-SALEM N. C.
ELECTRIC SERVICE CO.
And HUNT’S, Inc.
FIXTURES - WIRING - SUPPLIES
“Gifts For All Occasions”
China and Glassware
116 W. 4th St.
Dial 2-3743
By Ann Robertson
Most students know of the var
ied duties and responsibilities of
the college president but few are
aware of the busy life that Salem’s
first lady leads. Mrs. Gramley,
who has a full-time career as a
wife and mother, also takes an
active interest in community af
fairs.
As a wife and homemaker, Mrs.
Grapiley devotes most of her time
to her familjL Free evenings are
passed in leisurely games of can
asta with Dr. Gramley and the
boys, or dinner and bridge with
their friends.
Relaxes at Home
For the end of a busy day she
enjoys relaxing with the latest best
seller. She used to spend many
hours knitting, but finds little time
for this now. “Besides,” she said,
“how could I possibly keep all
these men in socks?” Still this is
one hobby which she would like
to pursue “to keep up with you
girls!”
However there are many activi
ties in which Mrs. Gramley does
keep up with the college girls. She
is enrolled in_ Mr. Sawyer’s class
on the poetry of the Bible and
attends this every Tuesday night.
Campus Fan
She rarely misses a recital, lec
ture, or basketball game, and was
even found in the basement of
Strong during the Junior Class
bridge tournament playing an en
thusiastic game with Dr. Gramley
and the girls. She lends an eager
ear to all the problems and activi
ties of college life.
In recalling her own college days
at Albright in Reading, Pa., Mrs.
Gramley told how she happened to
become “Mrs. Gramley.” “We met
at a freshman banquet,” she said.
“The only reason I even looked at
him at first was because he was
taller than I was!” But after that
first look their courtship con
tinued throughout their college
days.
After their graduation Dr. Gram-
ley went to Columbia University to
study journalism. He was also
engaged in newspaper work. At
this time, Mrs. Gramley was teach
ing English and supervising the
school newspaper. “I really didn’t
know a thing about newspapers,”
she confessed, “so I used to invite
Dr. Gramley to come home for
weekends to help me get that
school paper together!”
Has Four Boys
After three years the Gramleys
w'cre married and have since had
four boys and not a single girl.
When asked what she thinks of
this, Mrs. Gramley replied, “It’s
really so much simpler to have
them all alike. This way I don’t
have to bother with too many frills,
and I certainly don’t have to w'orry
about their wearing my clothes!”
With four boys in school, it’s not
surprising to find that Mrs. Gram-
ley is active in P. T. A. work. At
present she is chairman of the
child study group.
Outside Activities
She is an ardent reader and be
longs to two book clubs. The
Moravian Church also occupies
much of her time, for Mrs. Gramley
is a leader of the woman’s ciiurch
organization.
Although she professes to have
no talent for arranging flowers, she
belongs to a garden club, and any
visitor in the Gramley home is cer
tain to notice the lovely arrange
ments of spring flowers through
out the house. Dr. and Mrs. Gram-
ley not only attend college func
tions but also the concerts and
plays in town.
Mrs. Gramley is the president’s
wife, the mother of four boys, a
community person, and a charming
lady.
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S. Hawthorne Rd. Phone 2-0005
rflSHQN SHOP
Superior Self-Service Laundry
•
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Phone 3-3303