Every year, every one comes back to the school for what promises to be one of the true years of our lives. But, as this one comes back as my last one of all, I have started to think of the school as more than just what one does in a day, or even night. What did the school mean for me? Why did it? What did I do it if I did it? And what of all of the people? If we truly are to be what the school means us to be, like the books and words of yore, we must pass down the things and thoughts of today.

Oh I do see these little bitties only just now coming to the school for the first time! I see them even as they are outside, walking and dancing in the moon, yelling to each other in this way and that. They chant and sing, they do, of the Light College Years, as they hold each other in their hands and discuss the issue of the day. Little do they know, these same little bitties are to be made into big men and girls, if only they knew.

I remembered of my fresh man year. I arrived just from the train, when all of the sudden there it was: The School. I was so excited truly. To see of the people and place that I was to spend my years, I could never have thought that there it would be, and then soon to be gone again now. Then I saw it all: Old Camps, the Gate, Stairs, Woman Table, blue books, the Sterling Stack, Benickle. These truly would come to be the things of my time at the school, from now, and from then.

But these were just the things. What also were, is the people. They were all of them my friends, even if we touched just once, in the grass or by the tree. I knew of one, my Dougland, of my fresh man suite. Even at day one, we made fast friends with a wink or a smile. These were the nights, to even just sit and talk and eat of the Buttery, there with all of us: Danuel, Tob, Jessico, Kakika, and Mobe. And then there were the others, those times to sing and shout and dance around land! Once of these times, we took us to Frat, where Little Jame wiggled his arms and legs till they all past out. Then to end it all, even just a popped corn movie in my bed. Oh those things of time that happened once ago! But soon these for me are now not.

But you, little bitties, with your hats and coats, this is still for you! Count it! Keep them in you as much as you can! Soon the very things you once looked around to see will only be gone, and you will stand like me at the Gate and only look back. It is only once, so be of it now.

And as the old song says:

“Light College years, with pleasure life,

The short, glab year of life.”