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■MiX-1^1967_  ;_^^^^^Pa^e^even
Senior (Mtmoxxtz^oif] sad and tjappg_
Look at that mirror - th« old tarnished one with the cracked gold-antiqued frame. The glass Itself seems to have character; like It really struggled to keep Its luster, but somehow just couldn’t keep those little rusty-looking spots off the corners. There was a huge crack right down the middle, but over the years It has been mended, and now even the scratches seem to be smoothed over; they’re almost un-no tlceable.
Look Into that mirror; look beyond the peeling frame and ancient glass. Look Into the years that have been reflected by this glass just as you are reflected now. What
There are the times we’ve laughed, and close beside are the times we’ve cried.. They're almost together, and we usually Stuck together,too. Close - but that’s the way we’ve grown to love. Look deeper. There are our experiences, it seems that the recent, more important ones are most easily seen. Look still deeper. That glass holds more than only the present. Our first day at SJA (What a picture!) Our first vear, filled with the bold excitement of a good kind of unfamiliarity, surrounded by our initial lor candlelight ceremony, the cold football games and cool slumber parties. The Intramurals, our prized banner, fun-filled holidays, retreat, our first Spring Festival (we had to serve and clean up I' Some of the not too good times canbe seen also. The struggles ln new subjects, little Pink demerit slips, report cards from the principal, sweating P.E. classes, finals, our pejry arguments and the cattles to win a true friend. Our mistakes are there, too. In some of the times we went against those who were there to help. We split; It seemed to all concerned that we were re-grMsing. Many disappointment s.. But we
Then another September came; our *orn out clod-hoppers had been resoled, and we somehow had more soul too. "We were ready; we knew the world. In our Sophomore year we laughed at the Ignorant little Frubies and admired, even envied those perfect, secure, beautiful girls at
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people were a little easier to get along with, our acne was not so~bothersome, we even had a date for homecoming! But there were more problems too. Why did we slap at the hands trying to help us? We were tempted to cut comers, and often we did. We knew almost everybody. The strangeness of a new environment was gone; our frustrations mounted steadily. We wanted action. Boys, drlving-licenses, cigarettes? The buttons popped off of our shirts, our saddle shoes were worn to shreads. We were worn. And it seemed we had too far to go before we accomplished anything worth-while. We needed no-one, except maybe our true love, our cherished crush. We had friends, we had fun, but somehow we were not satisfied. The weeping seniors graduated, and we looked forward to that time, but we would run — we’d get that diploma and run!
Our attitudes changed, just a little at first. Slowly. We were better conditioned to the rise and fall of our expectations. We became more stable, and accepted things for what they were. We were beginning to want to give, and to know what that felt like. Our Junior year seemed to help channel our energies for us. We had so much to look forward to, but we couldn’t quite touch any of It. We were settled, possibly resigned, b u t we were secure. We were even looked-up to—just a bit, but that was different. We had something to work and try for. We were really ln the race. But we were still number two. We questioned, we doubted, we hoped, and we waited. Socially we were becoming more accepted. Our hands didn’t get that “clammy” feeling at the dances anymore. P.S.A.T and N.E.D.T. scores came ln, Cotyeges to Investigate. (At least allol those forms and pamphlets were mall!) New dates, borrowing	and then
Spring! We just couldn’t hold back anymore. A whole year to go. Maybe the notorious pushing and breaking In the canteen line was symbolic?) The realization of nine months of ugly hamburgers, dark halls* and soppy courses was just eating away at us. The Glorious Seniors seemed so active. They were ln the limelight; they were almost free. We knew that we'd get there next year, bet that year would be the longest of our lives.
It can't fly. It just can’t move as swiftly as the experienced say. Senior year. There we were. Just the same so we thought. Big let-down; it didn't
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whole year ahead. Then BOOMII! Senior lawn privileges, graduation gown fittings, “Senlor-Freshie Day” with our very own little obedient sisters. Candlelight ceremony. It was terrific to hear flashes from the familiar huddled conversation	groups, ’’She’s a SENIOR!”
Ring ceremony. Oh, the feeling. The real, true, total impact of being a SENIOR. Superior, at least an upperclassman, and respected. Funniest thing, suddenly the selection of dates was at a minimum. (Would you believe the eligibility to consist of only Male Seniors from Bay St. Louis?!) But It kept going. Now It really wasn’t us pushing; we were almost being swept along ln the new boldness of our changing status. Homecoming, our closed Retreat, Christmas, and a real New Year’s Eve. Fun, excitement, time. More college boards. Decisions, plans, a little studying; more decisions; changed, uncertain plans, Deadlines. And time just kept moving. It was p 1 eking us 14). And we were actually lifted, lifted beyond what we ever would have Imagined our peak. We grew, but there was no time to realize. We felt the pangs of living, loving, and searching, but they were disguised by the rush and glory of the fabulous year. We were often disillusioned, disappointed, and sometimes disappointing to those around us. We were high, on our peak, teetering, and maybe some thought we’d fall. But we were too rushed to realize how really precarious our positions were. School functions, plays, Spring Festival, graduation Invitations, parties, presents, color, swirls. The honor, the intense, unique glory. And then graduation, and all of the trimmings!
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It Mctns to be over; everything seems to hatfe reached an end. Are we ready to go? Can we hold ourselves up? There’s more, much more. Can we hold on to and profit from everything we have attained so far? We are all going out, we are all leaving our secure little nests. But we are conditioned with the undying help of those who care - our parents, teachers, and friends. Cai* we make it? What does next year hold for each one of us S.J.A/lans?
Look again * this mirror. Look Into It. The sun to	aowjuxl allttle ray
has moved aleog ad Is MgKiiphHng something* It could be a rainbow.
HarM n«BI--------


St. Joseph Academy School paper Sea Sprite 1967 (27)
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