Walking With You 

I take a walk through the quiet park,

The sun is gentle, the sky not dark.

Leaves whisper softly, and I pause to see

How small moments remind God is with me.

I think of friends, the ones I hold dear,

And pray for their hearts, their joy, their fear.

We talk about life, about faith, about grace,

And I see His light in each smiling face.

Sometimes life bends, and things go wrong,

But in the stillness, I grow strong.

I lift my prayers up for those in need,

And trust God’s love will guide each seed.

When I sing a song or act a small part,

I feel His hand reach down to my heart.

The Bible I read, the words I hold tight,

Give me courage to step through the night.

I am both quiet and loud, reflective and free,

A work in progress, just as He made me.

And though the world feels heavy or unclear,

I walk with Him, knowing He is near.

-Sophie El Haoud , ’29

My Life has Just Begun 

Sensitive to touch from things in my past, 

This pain won’t last forever 

I tell myself it won’t last. 

But still, I have the privilege to call out, “Mom!” 

But I never hear a response 

Not even one. 

But why would I complain? 

At least I do my part, 

I seem to be plagued with a caring heart. 

With every passing blow thrown past my sight, 

My lips stay sealed, 

Because I wouldn’t want to be “impolite”. 

I somehow have empathy for everyone I meet, 

Until it comes to my own family tree. 

But selfish I am for thinking of myself 

I should think of those who truly need help, 

With no one else that I can call

I can still think of one, 

My heavenly father 

Who gave up his son. 

Yes I may still be young, 

But that is not only how my life has just begun. 

The pain here on Earth compares nothing to Heaven, 

Where my joy will be ten times greater, 

And thankfully sudden. 

-Hannah Davenport, ’27

Starlight’s Embrace

The stars creep through the night,

My breath fans out under the cloudless sky,

The soil under my feet, still no clouds in sight,

My fingers tingle, it feels like I can fly, 

The air and I intertwined, so I fight.

My body twists, and I can’t help but try,

The moon waning, before, so big and so bright.

My attempts to leap succeed, I travel high.

-Avery Johnson & Tara Devaney, both ’27 

Music in My Soul 

As a Child, I looked forward to growing old,

And seeing what lies in store ahead of time.

Young and naive I was,

Taking life for granted.

I was a much different character long ago,

Short-tempered, immature, crazy, even.

Sprinting through life, I made and lost many friends,

Some for good, some for bad.

But one thing I know is for certain,

These traits contributed to who I am today.

But not everything has changed,

I’ve always excelled in Math and Science,

But always struggled with English and History.

Out of all of the school subjects, however,

Music resonates with me the most.

It truly is my passion,

For I enjoy it thoroughly.

It started with piano lessons at a very young age.

Why? I do not have the answer.

What I can tell you is that I do not regret it.

As I aged and aged, my passion only grew stronger.

Taking interest in musicals, show choir, and marching band.

These things brought me so much joy,

And I cannot wait to see what lies ahead

Time is certainly running out,

Something that not many of us realize.

So I strive to live mine to the fullest,

Through the power of music in my soul.

-Noel Burmeister, ’27 

Seventh Heaven

It was dark in the city. What city exactly is not so important, but it was a city. Big and

bustling and dirty. Full up with all the pleasures and problems one would expect a city to contain.

The sky was dark and starless, and the streets were illuminated by multitudinous lights of

artificial origin. So it was dark in the city, and out on these illuminated streets walked three men,

each with a slight, stumbling gate, more pronounced in two than the other.

One of these men was named Andrew. He was a businessman who worked at some

large corporation in the city, and lived in a city suburb with his wife of seven years. He was a

moral man by all metrics, and he and his wife lived happily together. His two compatriots were

fellows with whom he worked. They had only been acquainted a few years and knew very little

about one another. The term ‘work friends’ comes to mind here, and that is the best way to

describe this trio.

“Where exactly are we going?” One of the men asked.

“Too a club!” Exclaimed the other.

Both were exceptionally drunk, and spoke without regard for any other ears. Though

none who could have heard would care at all.

“I’m not certain of that.” Andrew replied. “It’s very late already. I would guess after

midnight.”

“So? What of it?” The second inquired. “I don’t care. I think we should go to a club!”

The first man roared his approval of the idea, before staggering into a lamppost.

Swearing, he set himself back onto the proper path.

“Watch it!” He yelled over his shoulder.

The lamppost gave no reply.

The first man ignored the other, and instead stopped a moment to gather his bearings.

“Now speaking of clubs,” said he, “there should be one nearby. A most professional

establishment.” He shot Andrew a wink. “Now tell me, what could be better?”

Andrew had to think for a moment, which was not an easy task in his current state,

however, his response was cut off by an exclamation from the first man.

“There! Just across the street, you see? That is the place. Off we go, my friends.

Quickly!” He wrapped his arms around the shoulders of Andrew and the other man and set off

briskly, staggering one way and the other as the entangled trio attempted to navigate their way

across the dark street.

Their destination was a rather large, brick building, with numerous signs depicting hearts

and other amorous imagery flashing in neon pink upon the exterior. One larger sign above the

entryway glowed bright yellow, reading, Seventh Heaven.

As the three men approached their conjoined march, which had begun to find some

semblance of rhythm, was suddenly disrupted by the stopping of Andrew. His two partners let

out similar grumbles of irritation and confusion as they both turned their eyes toward the

offender.

“What’s your game, huh?” Asked the second of the two. “Are we going or not?”

“Well just wait,” Andrew answered. “Should we really go?”

The first man made a sound of extreme exasperation. “Of course we should. Why not?

We’ve been working hard all week, without so much as a thank you from anyone! Well I’ve got

my paycheck, and I say we enjoy ourselves. And how else should we do that other than a night

of pleasurable company and strong booze?”

This logic was quite appealing to Andrew’s inebriated mind, and so, misgivings now

quashed, he entered the building behind his compatriots.

It was dark inside. Alike to the outdoors, but without the immensity of the many lights.

Only a few lamps illuminated the interior. It was loud, though, with bass-heavy music thumping

throughout the building. Andrew was out of his element, and the damper that lay upon his mind

was only increased by the thick, smokey scent that permeated the room.

As he tried to navigate the space he found himself bumping into a number of people,

muttering, “Sorry,” each time. Most chose to ignore him, preoccupied with their own business.

On one such occasion, though, the woman with whom he made contact turned to look at him.

“And who are you?” She asked, regarding him as best she could through the dark and

haze.

Andrew scratched his head. “Nobody,” was his mumbled reply. The woman tutted

disapprovingly.

“Oh come now. That can’t be true.” She drew closer, pressing lightly against him.

“But I’m afraid it is,” Andrew flushed slightly. “I’m nobody.”

“I don’t think so,” she said, voice husky. “In here, nobody’s nobody.”

Andrew giggled, highly and strangely. “Nobody’s nobody! Huh.” He looked more closely

at the woman. “You’re fun.” She only smirked and drew closer still, pressing him back against

the brick of the wall. Nobody’s nobody, Andrew thought, and his whole body seemed to tingle,

brain firing with some seeming humor and bliss.

Andrew’s head hurt. It hurt to think even for a moment as he struggled to determine

where exactly he was. He was wandering the street, but where exactly was he? What was he

doing out here? A cool wind blew through the street, the feeling of it on his face sobered him

slightly, and as his headache grew, fragments of thought began to surface.

He had been out drinking, he realized, and very heavily based on the pounding in his

skull. His friends had abandoned him. Where they were now he did not know, but he found he

did not care much. As he walked, though, he recalled the place from which he had come. As the

memory of it flashed before his eyes he felt rather perturbed. Something about that was not

right.

Puzzling it out in his head, he eventually came upon a large bridge. It was familiar to

him, though how it was could not yet be recalled. There was little traffic, and he walked along

the path, near to the sea that crashed against it below. The bridge was far from clean, covered

in the grime and graffiti of countless people who had at sometime made their way along that

very path. One particular inscription caught Andrew’s eye. Nestled between a crudely drawn

cross and a heart containing a pair of initials were the words Seventh Heaven.

Looking around him, Andrew realized suddenly what was familiar about this path. It was

the very bridge he took to work each day, not terribly far from his home. Just as suddenly as the

prior revelation had come upon him, Andrew felt a horrible sensation in his stomach. With all the

grace of a drunken man, Andrew threw his head over the rails of the bridge, retching, and

became violently sick. The bile and alcohol exited his body, and they plunged down into the

water below, certain to be thrown about and dashed against the shore.

Andrew was now painfully sober, and the feeling of disconcertion, which had so

suddenly grown into sickness, now emanated throughout him. He began to sweat, and his mind

began to spin. A sob racked his body, and so too did guilt. He flung himself upon the ground and

cried and yelled and screamed to anyone, anything that would answer. There came none.

A car honked as it drove by. Andrew paid it no mind. He had nothing but guilt to mind

now. Having fully exhausted himself, his body seemed almost numb, and it shook as he pulled

himself up by the guardrail. Once more he peered into the surging waters below, as gray as the

sky. As gray as the world. Despairing, he slowly, carefully hauled himself up, balancing now

upon the edge of the bridge. It’s not so far down, he thought. Just a quick drop. It would all be

over then. He wouldn’t feel a thing.

He made to step, then caught himself. What will she think? He wondered. This certainly

wouldn’t be fair to her, who had done nothing to him but love and care for him. This wasn’t fair at

all. But then, neither was the alternative. Oh, but isn’t life unfair!”

“Whoa there!” Came a cry. This brought Andrew from his thoughts. “Whoa there friend!

What exactly are you looking for up there?” The speaker was a tall man, dressed in black and

white, balding slightly above a kind face, and with a chain of some kind around his neck.

“I am looking for relief!”

The man frowned. “Relief? You might be looking in the wrong place. But come down

from there. Perhaps we can talk about it.”

“I do not want to talk. I do not want anything. Only an end to this.”

“Such dreary words.” The man said. “But come down, I beg of you. I think we should

talk.”

“I have already told you, I do not wish to.”

“I insist, please. Indulge a poor sinner with the gift of conversation. Come down from

there.”

With some hesitance, Andrew did as he was bid. He was still rather unbalanced, but the

man’s firm grip upon his shoulder steadied him until he was solidly upon the ground.

“Now tell me,” asked the man. “What kind of relief could you possibly have found out

there?”

“Relief from everything. I tell you, life is too much.”

“And why is that?”

Andrew did not answer.

“I said, would you mind sharing why? Begging your pardon, it is only that I find life to be

a truly wonderful thing.”

“I may have once thought the same, but now…” Andrew shook his head. “There was a

woman.”

“Was there indeed?”

“She was not my wife.”

“Ah. So she wasn’t.”

“I was quite drunk, I know it. But even so… I can’t go on now. How could I?”

The stranger regarded Andrew. “How could you what?”

“Live!” Andrew exclaimed. “Live, and return and speak to her again!”

“So you have resolved to throw yourself from this very bridge?”

Andrew nodded slightly.

“And what good would that do anybody?”

“What?” Andrew asked, confused.

“How could this course of action benefit anyone? You, running from your problems, the

world now devoid of your very soul, and your poor wife.” The stranger took a firm tone, and

Andrew recoiled, somewhat chastened. The stranger noticed this, and when next he spoke, his

voice was softer and more comforting. “This path you have chosen is very rash. And simply look

around you. The world is just the same as it has ever been, good and bad. The same can be

said of you. Deep down, you are no different than the man your wife married.”

“But the man she married would not have…”

“Would not have what. Made a mistake? That is what you have done, made a mistake. It

is the curse of being human. You love your wife, correct? And she must love you. And the very

nature of your reaction shows the depths of your remorse. So do not leap from this world, but

take it firmly in hand. The way forward is not death, but repentance.”

The stranger had grown impassioned in his speech, and as Andrew processed his

words, he realized their truth.

“I… I suppose you’re right. I was a fool to act as I did.”

The stranger gave a slight shrug. “You were indeed, and what of it. We are all fools. It is

yet another of humanity’s most consistent attributes. What matters is how the fool progresses

from his foolishness.”

“Of course.” Andrew nodded vigorously. “I must act, I must make things right. But oh!

What a fool I am.”

He felt emboldened now, and so overwhelming was this new feeling that it chased out

his despair and set him on the path to home.

“Goodbye, friend!” The man called after him. “The peace of the Lord be with you! And

may you make that peace for yourself.”

A long car horn drowned out the end of this parting, and after its brash timbre had

ended, Andrew turned back to answer. As he rounded about, however, he found that the

stranger was nowhere to be seen. The bridge was entirely empty, save for the cars passing by

to his right.

Somewhat confused, Andrew turned back to the edge of the bridge, looking out to the

water beyond. It was not gray now. The sun had begun to poke over the horizon, and the water

sparkled from its rays, the sky itself bright orange and pink. Andrew stared out at it all for a

while. At the ocean, the sky, and the rising sun. A gentle breeze tickled his face, and as he

looked, he was quite stricken with how beautiful it all was.

-Elliott Zrudsky, ’26