An orange sun sinks slowly behind a purple mountain, a spring rain beats steadily on the roof, and a constant white surf pounds on the shimmering wet sand; then someone speaks a last good-bye with untold sadness in their eyes, and the sadness overflows into silent tears. Yet, through the tears we have the quieting comfort that this will happen again; the sun will rise on the morrow, the rains will come again, and the tide will always rush to shore.
But, there is something absolute and final about good-bye, it means forever. How do you say good-bye to a friend who will never come again; who has brought such happiness, who has shared all the good times and the bad, all the noisy games, the sound of young voices free of cares and full of spirit, the dead silence of exam week, a familiar step echoing in the hall, the knowledge that someone will always be around to listen, and the great joy of just being together? How do you bring such an ultimate word past that ache in your throat and say it to someone you love so much? How do you express gratitude for all the times gone by?
We, the Seniors of 1970, dedicate these following words to Villa Cabrini Academy and all the hard-working and dedicated people who have made it such a beautiful place of education and true friendship for so many years. It is the only way we know how to say thank you and good-bye.
If the earliest days of spring could be had in a bottle, it would be a pale green liquid made of such tender growing, that it could only fill a wooden shepherd's cup, and it would be just enough for a good, deep drink to wash a day's hot sweat and dust away. It would smell like grass and flowers, would be as refreshing as the watery mountain sunshine, the deep shade beneath the trees, and sparkling stars of night. It would bath the hurt throat, ease the thirst, be as cool and pure as any bubbly spring. It would be as sweet as honey and tears. It would be a drink of life.
And you somehow happened to find that precious water of hours and minutes in your cup, and went in search of me, and you found me sticky and grimy, and hot, sitting in the eye of the orange sun. You placed that cup in my hand for what good it would do, and I knew that when I lowered the cup from my parched lips and whispered, “Thank you for the drink,” you'd look inside and find half the drink still left for you.
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Mother Cabrini founded the Missionary Sisters of the Sacred Heart in 1880. She had always wanted to be a missionary to China but Pope Leo XIII told her to go to New York instead where the Italian immigrants sorely needed someone who could understand them. In her 67 years of life, M. Cabrini founded 67 institutions: orphanages, schools, day care centers, hospitals. She was declared a saint in 1946 and is called the Patroness of Immigrants.