Newspapers / Mars Hill University Student … / April 1, 1961, edition 1 / Page 6
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ard to the oi>'« vumo^j^ia ri cdciLL UUIIUCI Id iven Growing Pains vorld seemed won- ing, the lovely tnorning I re front, and the tilling me that I plete with route. I outdoor furnituf*.®^'*-^^ I’c one Pinecrest EsU'f drivers chosen elusive and hif? hrst 1 1 D gigantic yellow could Patty and^Q_3^gj j this lavishness, s ' construction en&;r r * ^piity-rou r-passenger wasn , L cr^^-^^y'^o^""P‘'issenger t much. Sr differently was a construct!,3 j rememhered whe ^enth-grade boys, had s^tarted out ^ly. My bus was had bypassed hiV band to football frankly adm.tte I 3,,^ ole apple. jf j that pedestal, ' Bill. Bill’s reply,'' leaves me out,” ? of him. She had for his honesty denly, it seemedlonday OWENS morning in fault. There tffup at six, dressed being too hone^ started on my good. When it te to school. With and butter, yoU, I pulled into the future of your ®ur principal, Mr. to change. Esptte to go up into the and time, when boy’s route which so keen. miles of dirt roads. rouble my mud- It wasn t ■ j , , c u second load for one by ony. :ven o’clock. friends had mov^ blossomed out ''on as I was driv- clothes, and ‘’|i pick-up truck expensive vacat'i, I glanced in the could brag abofhmand a seventh- gave { ? Was it brewing a spitball. so, they didn’t V eyes back to the they’d all start^that the truck and same time. ’ tne had stopped. At the party to remember knocking when Marilyn « 1 ■ on the accident going to Honol.j Joan did not J'back of the truck, of delight, but ''group of children said, “How nitbne, and the next d no disciplinary J'hen Friedf looked at her new homes ne'’^- pon ■"rH-ii finring trigo- you and Bil , « Mr. Stoudemire, if you can do called me into feel 1 m getting ,^^6 3^,^,^^ girl (Cont. oil' who had driven for me before and who had remarked that she never would again. It then dawned on me that she was going to be given my bus, my route, and my school children. I was told to go out and show her how to fill in my bus report. Tears fell. I felt as though I had lost a part of myself. The one responsibility that I had wanted so much and had been so proud of was taken from me. I felt that each child was mine. I thought the world was against me since I had lost my bus. In the next few w'eeks I did a great deal of thinking. “Sure,” I told myself, “you are disap pointed, but this is the way life is sometimes.” I feel that this experience was one of my most acute growing pains. 1 was faced with adult responsibility and with adult dis appointment. I realized that my parents could no longer shelter me from being hurt. I am now eager to forget the old disappoint ments and to discoyer my place in the world; hut when I w^alk down the girls’ hill eyery morning and see the school buses pass, I still get a warm feeling inside. Whan that Aprille with his shoures soote The droghte of Marche hath perced to the roote. Than longen folk to goon on pilgrimages. —Chaucer JIM WELD In the summer of 1959, I had occasion to stop in New York City between bus and train. I had spent my vacation on Cape Cod and really was enthusiastic about seeing a bit of New York City. When it came time to leave the Cape, I hoarded a bus, and after a long, tedious journey, arrived in the big city. I was very much ex cited by the sight of the towering buildings, the snarled traffic, and the throngs of pedestrians. At the hus station I got a cab to the Pennsylvania Railway Station. Af ter about fifteen minutes in the cab, I began to wonder if the driver were not giving me a sight seeing tour instead of just a short trip between stations. We wove through the traffic, bumped from corner to corner, were deafened by the multitude of horns, and pushed and shoved through a maze of one-way streets. En route to the train station, the driver had a little mishap. The driver directly ahead of us backed his car just a little too hard and a little too far. Immediately the driver of my cab jumped out. I am sure that I had never heard such a long burst of profanity in all my life! After they reached some sort of agreement, my driver returned and cursed the rest of the way to the train station. As I entered the station, I was awe-stricken at the size and gran deur of the building. There was a massive room with a beautiful marble floor, and at the far end the ticket windows could be seen. I trudged across what seemed a never-ending expanse, with my luggage in my hands, under my arms, and my shaving kit dangling from my shoulder. When I reached the window, sagging with exhaustion, I,let everything drop to the floor, including my shaving kit. I asked the ticket agent when (Cont. on p. 11, col. 3) HILLTOP—PAGE FIVE tree Haircuts Iomorrow, | „( ,k. cuutc™„ Dor sFi m G1 drey ite w idents ever n off Beck lected )ormi Mer] lison >ns of iry res 1 girls rve as VIS be i Hufi as p ;n E id and Dorn ate. ill rm “Cfsvaf- I Qrirl espect) ham w 5 reli^ ng as ’ chori.‘ :d by 1 TV/Tc rrm
Mars Hill University Student Newspaper
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April 1, 1961, edition 1
6
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