SEAL 2020

Saint Elizabeth Academy Literary Magazine

Staff Miss Roper - Adviser Molly McKenna - Editor Jordyn Baham Victoria Enea Renata Lee Zoe Raste Janine Cavallone

Waiting For Camp to Start In a wink of an eye soon it will start, The fun, the adventure, where more memories start.

The friends, the counselors, the smiles and laughter, the place you will definitely miss after…

The cove, where you can sail through the sun or the pelting rain, knowing all the parts of the boat by name.

The hikes that are long and hard.

But who cares? We have made it this far!

Climbing our way to the top.

Complaining to the trip staff to stop.

They always reply “come on girls we just stopped by those rocks.”

But after hard work we would make it to the summit.

Then we would know that it was worth the stomach.

The van ride of belting out our hearts, or if you’re like me knocked out and asleep, dreaming about a warm shower.

But when the month ends you will know for sure you didn’t waste it.

You actually embraced it!

- Caroline Villa ‘22

New School, New Beginnings Guide me lord in this new space, As I don’t quite know my place.

Help me seek freshened opportunity While I aspire for success in this community.

Make me, O Lord, an open and kind hearted soul, And help me become aware of those who will make me whole.

With this I shall embark on a new quest, Sharing what I have learned to become my best.

With this gift you have given me, I will effectuate change and honor thee.

Now that my role has increasingly become known, Thank you Lord for all that you’ve shown.

- Ella Renshaw ‘22

Fatherly From the day I was born, you were always there, You held me for the first time and started to care.

Your strength I had found, for God had blessed me, For giving me you, I did not know how to be.

As I began to grow, you showed me the way, Your humor and grace, I have to this day.

My father, my guide, I am so thankful, for my life is a light, And you are the candle.

As we continue to grow, I look forward to the light, With God at our side, we continue to fight.

We have been through good and bad, A lot of happy and sad.

But, my father, my hero, I am so glad you are my Dad. - Morgan Kearns ’22 Giving Thanks We give many thanks for thy God whom has safely carried us across thy sea.

He guided us to our new home of Plymouth Colony.

Now us Puritans have a safe haven to practice our beliefs.

God’s land is bountiful, it provides us our basic needs.

We give him thanks for thy food that he puts in our bellies.

By expressing our thankfulness to his loving grace we pray.

We give thanks for Squanto whom has shown us thy ways of thy soils.

With tough guidance we shall now do great things for thy Lord.

His grace and agape love makes us thrive which has given us great knowledge.

Thy love that God expresses for us makes me rejoice for this is why we bring him praises.

-

Caroline Villa, ‘22

The Graphite’s Plight Gripping me securely, with the inaudible plea, “Give me good luck” Smiling secretly, I muse, “You move me, I am not the source of success” Let the test commence while the clock ticks Down the minutes Up and down the page I go Dizzy when I’m turned uʍop ǝpısdn ɹǝsɐɹǝ ʎɯ ɹoɟ Then right-side up once more My tip slowly dwindles Twisted as my shavings fall Falling like the confidence of The hand holding me perspires

No matter my desires I must keep forming The most minute grapheme Pages flip, fingers shake My heart beats, “scritch scratch” Until the moment it comes to a halt I rest I’ve been stressed, I confess, But I did my best Lying on the desk I hear a sigh of relief But nothing else No gratitude It’s to that I allude For I need none After all, I’m not number one I’m number two That’s what’s branded on me

Send Noods Ramen noodles are a girl's best friend, The beautiful taste I love, I will eat noodles to the end, But my passion for Ramen is above.

Ramen noodles are a metaphor, Anything hard is worth doing, Ramen starts hard then softens for sure,

It’s your mind that’s really the key It’s your words that make me come alive It’s your words that let me survive It’s your words that new ideas contrive I am content To stay in the dark of a case To be hidden away To only see the light When I am needed When I serve a purpose I am graphite But you are the playwright You’ll look back in hindsight Wondering why It was luck you asked for When you moved me And you set me free.

- Victoria Enea,’20

But in the end you are happy with what you are chewing.

Ramen noodles are the best, I hope that you can see, The salty taste brings comfort, So please send noods to me.

- Isabelle Gaffney, ‘20

“The Fox and the Crow” Mini-Story It was a bright sunny day, and there was not a cloud in the sky. A fox was walking through a forest looking for something to eat.

He tried looking on the mossy bottoms of trees, but all the lovely red and white spotted mushrooms were gone. He tried looking inside the tree holes, but the squirrels did not leave any nuts behind. He tried sticking his nose in a rabbit hole, but no rabbits were home. The fox only saw trees continuing on for as far as he could see. He was about to give up his search until he smelled a delicious odor. It smelled creamy and slightly smelly, but delicious all the same. The fox continued on his journey until he traveled to the source of the smell, which just so happened to be a little tree. Even though it was early spring, this tree had not yet grown its leaves back, so it sat there naked and cold in the cool breeze.

However, the naked tree was not the thing that interested the fox-, it was the black crow perched on one of the branches that caught the fox’s eye.

The fox had seen very many crows before, and they were not the tastiest of meals, but this particular crow had in its sharp black beak a piece of lovely cheese. Never had the fox seen so fine a cheese. From its perfect milky-yellow color to its pungent aroma, the fox was salivating. Once the fox feasted his eyes upon the crow’s prize, he knew he would do anything to have it for himself. The fox carefully studied his blackfeathered friend. The crow was in a tree, but foxes cannot climb trees. The fox knew he

would have to come up with a more mischievous plan if he wanted the prize he so desired.

Meanwhile, the crow sat happily on his branch, praising himself for victoriously grabbing a perfect piece of cheese. It was not an easy feat as he had to battle the grumpy farmer and avoid his wicked dog. As the crow was admiring his prize, he saw the blacktipped tail of his incoming visitor: the fox.

The crow looked into the fox’s big black eyes surrounded by flashy orange fur and immediately thought something was not right.

Looking to protect his prize, the crow prepared to take flight.

“Do not leave just yet, Mr. Crow, as I have just arrived,” said the fox as he slowly approached the hesitant crow.

“That is precisely why I plan to leave,” mumbled the crow since he still had the cheese in his mouth.

“Good sir, you do sadden me, but I suppose I understand. If I were as beautiful as you, I would not dare to associate myself with peasant folk such as myself,” the fox conceded.

These words intrigued the crow. He had never had anyone call him beautiful before.

“Very well, I will stay and listen to what you have to say, but I must be on my way shortly,” the crow announced.

“I am very pleased to hear this. I do wish to admire you for a little while longer.

Oh, how your feathers shine under the light.

They look as precious as onyx. Oh, how long

and majestic your wings are. I am sure they must look exquisite when gliding under the golden sun. Why you are as magnificent as the finest of birds. I am sure even the most revered bird, the nightingale, pales in comparison to you. Why, you are so perfect in every way, I am certain your singing voice must be flawless too,” the fox declared.

These words pleased the crow very much. He had never been flattered by such an admirer before. The fox in all his beautiful, fiery fured glory was praising him, a measly crow. The crow puffed up his chest and lifted his chin to the heavens in pride. He then proclaimed: “Of course I am, prepare to listen to the most beautiful song you have ever had the privilege to hear.”

With those words, the crow opened his beak wide to begin singing. Once he opened his beak wide enough, the cheese fell out. The crow’s talons were too busy holding onto the tree and could not capture the lost prize, so the cheese fell right into the fox’s opened mouth. The fox placed the cheese at the bottom of the tree so he could taunt the crow a little more.

“Thank you for breakfast, Mr. Nightingale,” the fox teased.

“You tricked me, you mischievous, conniving fox!” the crow shouted.

“Ah, my dear fellow, I may have planned to get the cheese, but you were the one who dropped it,” the fox replied. With that the fox picked up his prize and ate it all

in one bite. Satisfied, the fox walked away, leaving the crow alone and hungry.

“Let this be the last time I am someone’s fool! I must learn to take everything I hear with a grain of salt, or else my gullibility will get the better of me and I will lose more cheese to that dirty fox!” the crow remarked. The crow launched himself from his branch and took off back towards the grumpy farmer, hoping that this time, he has learned his lesson and will keep his cheese.

- Zoe Raste ‘20

Trust all around Trust is a big virtue that is very important to many people all around.

Once you have gained trust, you want to keep it and value it.

Trust is something that you do not play with.

You need to respect when people trust you and care for you Once you break trust, you will never gain that back to the same extent.

Respect the people that trust you.

- Kristen Wong, ‘22

Dear You, Your mask is falling. This jubilant laughter you once shared at the lunch table turned to pain hidden behind seemingly genuine smiles. They all see you, they know that you’re a liar. Fix your face, become happy or waste away in your plastic chair until there is nothing left but a subtle ghost. They say ‘keep your head up’, but the plastic crown they give you as an achievement for nothing slowly slips off of your head. Any semblance of yourself you once had is now covered in bloody marks, the stains evergreen on rough manuscripts. They were once hidden from the world, but are now projected on a dusty screen, still not fully clear. Your true feelings seem to seep through the cracks of your fragile exterior. You seem to be holding everything up, but nobody realizes. They don’t realize that if you move one step for air the entire structure would collapse as dust cakes your face. Take a look at yourself and try to see what they all see. You try to fix yourself, but will you ever be fixed?

- Nala Davis ‘21 The Raven There’s a raven atop my door Who won’t cease in demanding more— More tears, more shrieks, more relentless pleads, More “how could this have ever happened to me?”

There’s a world upon my shoulders, Making me a spectacle for the beholder.

Were it not for the struggle people longed to see, I could have lifted it with ease.

There’s a mask upon my face, Heavy with expectations of a part to play, And all the world’s a stage, but I’m no actor To be pummeled with fruit or drowned in laughter

There are feathered wings upon my back, And a vast sky which hasn’t yet turned black A sky free from cards and bouquets, If I could only get further away.

There are strangers in my cave, And I tell myself to be brave, But with my own tree, they blind me and flee, Leaving me to scream, “Nobody hurt me.”

There’s a raven atop my door Who won’t cease in demanding more.

- Molly McKenna, ‘21

Our Spot Go down the road and take a right, Find the gate that’s shut up tight, Then push and pull with all your might, And prepare to say adieu to the light.

See the birds, flying away, Hear the brook babbling, clear as day, Listen for the words I will never say, And stop for a while to kneel and pray.

Don’t stop now, don’t be scared, The trees have always watched and stared.

Now, see that spot, where there lays a snare?

You’ll find my soul is buried there.

You won’t find him there anymore.

You won’t see the snacks we used to store, Nor the size four footprints on the forest floor, But perhaps one day, you’ll see him soar.

Beneath the tree he taught me to climb Back when we never ran out of time, Besides the blowing grass which would always chime, And the streams of sunlight, which seemed so sublime.

Hear in the air the “you’re its” and “triple dog dares,” Know that you’re witnessing something rare.

Go then, if you must, but don’t ever err— Know that with him I am always buried there.

- Molly McKenna, ‘21

Charon’s Uber Service: A Customer’s Experience Well, now that was quite a ride! Charon was not much of a conversationalist, but, hey! I’m not complaining; this guy is probably one of the sketchiest uber drivers I’ve ever seen in my life. I mean, the boat smells terrible and he’s obviously never heard of the word hygiene. After I reluctantly gave him my coin and hopped into his rickety boat, we glided across the River Styx. I would like to say it was an uneventful ride, but it was unfortunately not. Charon kept giving me weird side glances, probably because he was shocked at how quiet I was (hey I’m not starting a conversation with this guy), but that wasn’t the weirdest part. I expected to see a lot of dead people on the trip, but definitely not as many as there were. No wonder Charon’s so cranky all the time,--I barely made it onto the shore before being pushed and crowded by hoards of dead people. I also think Charon stole my phone. I couldn’t resist taking a shot of myself and Charon on the boat, and Charon was definitely salty about his lack of photogenic qualities. I mean, YODO (You only die once)!

-

Renata Lee, ’20