On the Trail of the “Y”

On the Trail of the "Y" By Blanche Robbins Dearest Ada: Can you ever forgive me for neg- lecting you so long? School closed May 24, just one week before the M. I. A. conference. Father, mother, Frank and I came down in the car. Don't you love Salt Lake in June? We enjoyed conference and saw so many old friends. Of course we went to Saltair for the Green and Gold waltz. We were early and I stood alone and watched the sunset on the lake and remembered things. Tears? A few perhaps. Tears and memories seem to go together. The waltz was beautiful. Every- one agreed, and when the decision was announced the cheers were deafening. Although there were tears in her eyes as she received congratulations from everyone she smiled at her partner. A romance? Perhaps. Anyway I like to think of them that way. Provo is beautiful. It is in a valley surrounded by mountains; tall and majestic. The sky is a deep blue. I understand now why Utah has so many artists; they have such beautiful things to paint. Through the mists and fleecy clouds I see Mt. Timpan- ogos. I love it already, and I have found strength and inspiration in its rugged grandeur. Yesterday we went up to the "Y" and registered. You remember my sister Phyllis? With her help I got along beautifully. Saw a few old friends. Some of my classes are "up on the hill." The first day I was late leaving class and had to go up alone. I went a few blocks in every direction and found myself on Main Street. This happened only once. Now I follow the winding trail with the others. I have decided to keep a diary this summer. "There's a reason." Phyllis introduced us the first day. I hadn't seen the new stadium and the other day he took me over and told me all about it. We know each other now. I see him every day. He comes up the hill as I go down. Too bad. My classes are interesting; especially the two in dramatic art. Our teacher is the sweetest thing and her patience seems inexhaustible. You should see us! We stand stiff and straight and nearly tongue-tied. She first gave us Shelley's "Night." You know, one verse begins, "When I arose and saw the dawn." Of course we all had the words memorized. Some said them "fast and furious;" others were dra- matic, and some whispered them quiet- ly as if there were someone around the corner. Poor teacher. She sug- gested that sometime we arise and "see the dawn." This morning I arose and "saw the dawn." The sky was a deep purple and the silhouetted mountains re- minded me of silent sentinels keeping watch over the little valley and the people entrusted to their care. Per- haps they are, for there is so peace- ful an influence here. It seems as if our very souls are guarded and pro- tected. The violet faded away and the sky was a beautiful transparent gold and blue, and as old Sol arose in all his flaming glory I was thank- ful for my home and heritage here in the West. Isn't this the longest letter, Ada? Just one thing more. Jerald and I sat by the fountain (even if it is dry) and whiled away most of the after- noon. He is so interesting. Picture him yourself — well built, brown curly hair, blue eyes, and "a million-dollar smile." We were talking about that day at the stadium and he said — Diary, June 9. Twelve o'clock and

June, 1929 ON THE TRAIL OF THE "Y" 667 now to bed. Saw the sunrise this morning, talked to Jerald all after- noon, and began Ada's letter tonight. Didn't finish it. Jerald came and after the library closed we sat on the steps and talked. Wednesday night is the moonlight hike to Maple Flat and he asked me to go. Pleasant dreams, Diary. June 12. The moonlight hike was worth coming to school for. The path we followed was narrow and wound along the mountain side. The lights down in town twinkled and shone like stars. Our first rest was at the "Y" and I was so surprised when I saw it. It is much larger than I thought. From town it looks small. Singing, laughing, and talking, we hiked along through the night. Once Jerald and I sat on a rock and watched the moon come up. We were above the others and as they came along the mountain side, climbing higher and higher, these words came to my mind: "The heights by great men reached and kept, Were not attained by sudden flight; But they, while their companions slept, Were toiling upward through the night." We saw the moon come up several times after this. The ones ahead of us had a big, roaring bonfire when we got there. We sang songs and told stories. It didn't seem at all as if it were the middle of the night. As dawn came beautifully and quietly everyone stood and saluted the new morn with the "Y" song, and as the words, "All hail the college that we love," rang out on the air, I knew that the "Y" was really my school, too. I love that song, and, Diary, I am learn- ing to play it. We sat on Mother Luna's nose and watched the sun come up. As the golden rays shot out over the valley I sighed just from happiness. There wasn't a sound: everyone was perfectly quiet. After the first breath- less minute, wherein a new day was born, Jerald smiled and started to say something, but just then our English teacher said to me: "If you cannot write something now, you never can." The spell was broken. We sang, laughed, and talked. After breakfast the crowd broke up. The hike home was delightful. Jerald and I gathered some white lilies. He said something about a bride. Arrived home at eight this morning, and now for bed. Good- night, or rather, good-morning. Diary. June 15. Although we are work- ing hard, the days are passing too quickly. Tonight after the library closed Jerald and I sat on the hill and watched the sun go down. I thought of Wesley W. Amick's picture "Where the Sun Goes." Then we counted the little twinkling stars as they came out. Jerald is so fine and splendid. Some- how, Diary, I am forgetting some- thing. I wonder — Sleep tight, Diary. June 16. This morning in De- votional we had a talk on "The Measure of a Man." The speaker mentioned all the virtues absolutely necessary, and then some other very desirable ones. I thought of Jerald. He has all the required ones, all the electives and others, too. Behold, the perfect man! June 17. Haven't felt very well. Jerald walked up the hill with Car- men Baker today. Saw him talking to her in the library. June 23. It is awfully late, but Diary, I must tell you. Jerald is a darling. Tonight the whole school went to Provona Beach. We went for a long ride in his car and then we were early. Those who came on the river didn't get there until after dark. Another boat went to meet them and as they came in sight lights were turned on and everyone sang "Springtime in the Rockies." Tears came into my eyes, Diary. The happiest time of my life has been these few weeks here at the "Y". As Jerald and I stood there by ourselves I suddenly realized the difference between really caring for someone and just being attracted by

668 IMPROVEMENT ERA June. 19 29 him. He looked deep into my eyes and someday, Diary, I hope We went for a ride in the large boat with some others. The moon shining on the water was beautiful. Across the lake we could see the lights of Geneva. After the ride we danced once or twice and then came home. Good-night, Diary, and happy dreams. June 25. I have a part on the Dra- matic Art program. June 27. Our psychology class visited the mental hospital today. Some of the sorrow there was caused through accident and sickness, but much of it was caused because some- one forgot to care. Our responsibility as Latter-day Saints is very serious. On the way home Jerald told me about his mission and what it has meant to him. July 4. Who was it said "Oh, what a day!" I don't know what was meant but I agree. Shooting all night and up at six this morning. Gwen and I crawled under the kids' bed and shot our popguns. Came back two hours later and were more or less welcome. Saw the parade and then went to the fair grounds. Wish these people could see an Idaho rodeo. More thrills! Had my first airplane ride today. Going up is all right, but the coming down must be felt to be appreciated. The fireworks were good. Neither of us cared to dance. Went for a ride and then home. The more I know Jerald the more I respect and care for him. He is so genuine. July 7. This morning in Devo- tional Brother George H. Brimhall spoke on "Seeking Higher Levels." He said: "The purpose of this school is to make Latter-day Saint men and women of the boys and girls who come here. We stand for three things: spiritual growth, social service, and scholarship." It has been truly said: "George H. Brimhall is the 'Grand Old Man' of the 'Y'." July 1 0. The School of Music gave a party and I went with Jerald. The night was lovely and we went for a short ride. Stopped at the steel plant; the blaze there always fascinates me. I am thankful, Diary, for the old friends, and for the new ones I have met here at the "Y". They have helped me to keep my ideals. The ride home was delightful. Nothing could be lovelier than a summer night in Provo with a friend like Jerald. Sleep tight, Diary. July 11. Today I received an in- vitation from Jerald's mother to spend the week-end with them. What shall I wear? July 14. Had a lovely time, Diary. His folks are sweet as can be. I fell in love with his mother. He has a little curly-headed brother, Clair. When he saw me he said: "How is you my sister?" The others laughed, Jerald blushed and of course I wondered what he meant. July 16. It was lovely after the rain this afternoon. Diamonds were sparkling on bush and tree everywhere. The air was fragrant with the perfume of roses. Everything was fresh and cool, and as I walked down the hill to the other campus I could see where the raindrops had splattered in the dust. Mine were "new footprints on the sands of time." The halls were empty and there was no one on the campus. As I walked through the rooms I looked from a window and saw the "Y" gleaming white and sparkling in the afternoon sunshine. "On the Trail of the Y'." Where does that trail lead — around the world and back again to my heart. A year ago I came to Commencement here and no one can ever know what those exercises meant to me. Boys and girls signing Banyons and telling each other good- bye. Old men and women returning to pay tribute and respect to their dear old Alma Mater. There are many, Diary, who have known the "Y" longer, but no one could love her more dearly than I. Here I have re- newed ideals, found strength and in- spiration, made friends and come in personal contact with the finest men and women in the world. Perhaps it was because I was starving for the

June. 1929 ON THE TRAIL OF THE "Y" 669 things I found here that my apprecia- tion of them has been so full and com- plete. Four more days and my work is finished; what a wonderful summer it has been. How rich in the fulfill- ment of dreams and desires. Good- night, Diary. I'll always love the "Y" and remember her as if I had been here years rather than weeks. Her colors shall be my colors, too; white for a life above reproach and blue for the cour- age to carry on. When others are cheering and praising her on to victory, my heart will be singing her praises. too. July 18. Tonight was the Lawn Fete on Maeser Hill. The program was interesting and colorful. My apprecia- tion of the beautiful has increased a hundred-fold this summer. July 19. This afternoon I was sit- ting on the lawn in front of the library looking toward the trees and saying. "Fair youth, beneath those trees," when Jerald drove up. He laughed. Rather say, "Fair youth, in a new coupe, I'll be delighted to go for a ride." His new car is nice. Diary; so snug and comfy and room just for two. It was filled with gas and across the back he had a blanket folded. I guess I looked puzzled for he smiled and said, "No questions: school is nearly out and I want to take you some place. To me it is the most beau- tiful spot in the world." Who doesn't love surprises? But, Diary, our last rehearsal for the Dra- matic Art program was at six o'clock. and I knew we wouldn't be back, but it was such a lovely afternoon; Jerald wanted me to go. and I wanted to go, so, well, I did. We went through town and then along a road I had never been over be- fore. It was smooth and very winding. There was just one curve after another. Soon we were climbing higher and higher and the scenery was exquisite. Every second I exclaimed at the beauty of something new. We were going up Provo canyon. I knew now. Vivian Park was cool and quiet and I'll never forget our trout dinner there. Really, Diary, the whole trip was just like a fairy tale. Soon we were speeding along again, and as we came around a curve I caught my. first glimpse of Bridal Falls. We stopped here a few minutes and watched the water tumble and splash and then drop straight down to the rocks below. When I knew I could never forget the picture we went on. Never have I enjoyed anything so much. The scenery all along the way was gorgeous. Jerald seemed to en- joy my being so pleased. It seems as if we have been pals all our lives. We chatted about everything as we went along. We were in the canyon now. The trees were tall and straight and so thick it looked as if even the snow couldn't fall between. The wild flowers were profuse and of the most brilliant colors. I wanted to pick them all. but Jerald insisted that I leave them for others to enjoy: my most impressive lesson in Nature Study. Soon we were at Alpine and. Diary, it was beautiful there. Against the deep-blue sky were the rugged, majestic mountains guarding the little valley where the cabins were nestled among the trees. My soul was thrilled beyond expression at the exquisite beauty and grandeur around me. God only could create such beauty. Farther on. solid walls of rock rose up on either side. On one rock we saw the weather observatory. High up, a dazzling white rock glistened and sparkled in the sunshine. I imagined it to be the palace of some fairy princess. Several times we stopped. "Up there on the mountain side is the Big Cave. We are coming up here again next year and we'll look at it then." We came out of the canyon just as the sun was sinking to rest. The sky was aflame with brilliant colors. We stood by the car and watched it set be- hind a bank of gold. Behind us lay the beautiful Provo canyon: to the west the setting sun. and ahead of us

670 IMPROVEMENT ERA June, 1929 the level, fertile valley. How much of life itself was pictured there! "Happy, Carol?" "Yes, Jerald, perfectly. I didn't know there was such beauty in the world as I've seen today, and I didn't think so much joy could be crowded into a few hours." "It is beautiful here, and more so to you because you appreciate it so. Re- member: 'Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.' I have come up here often, but always alone, before. It seems as if getting close to God and nature does my soul good. Ever since we met I've planned on bringing you up here, but somehow I wanted to wait until the very last. Every day, though, I was afraid someone else would beat me to it. "You're the sweetest pal I've ever had, Carol, and I'm sorry the summer is over. We've gone places and talked about everything and I hate to see you go home." "Don't, Jerald, you'll make me cry. You know how much I have enjoyed being with you. You are the best boy friend I've ever had, and I'll never, never, forget you." "Carol, sweetheart, I love you," and then, Diary, when he took me in his arms and kissed me I knew that dreams do come true. I was glad that no one else had ever held me: that I had waited for Jerald. Good-night, Diary. I love him. My ideals have brought me perfect happiness. Heaven- ly Father, bless us that we may always love each other, and bless me that someday I may be considered a real stu- dent of the "Y". Jerald has had his four years here and extra work this summer. I have been here such a little while that it seems as if I am taking something that doesn't belong to me. If I really belonged to the "Y" it would be different. Make me a part of this great school. Life is very sweet to me, tonight. Diary. Do I deserve all these wonder- ful things? July 21. The last day. They are waiting for me, Diary, but I want to finish you here. There was a short assembly this morning to tell us all good-bye. For once I couldn't sing "All hail the college that we love." My eyes were too full. Told all the teach- ers and my friends good-bye. Some are going to Alpine and others are not. Everyone hated to leave and we lingered around and talked. When I got back to the house, fath- er and mother were there with Jerald and his folks, talking like old friends. He had planned the whole thing. I was so happy to see the folks and proud for them and Jerald to know each other. "We don't want to go on while it is so hot. Run along you two and enjoy yourselves. We'll visit here." Parents seem to understand so well. We drove to the foot of the hill and then climbed up to a beautiful tree not far from the "Y". "Carol, sweetheart, I didn't dream that such happiness would ever come to me. You are my ideal of all that a girl should be, and I'll always love you." "I care, too, Jerald, more than you'll ever know. Remember, you are coming up home for Thanksgiving and Christmas." "I couldn't forget, and you are coming here for the Junior Prom, and then again, 'When It's Springtime in the Rockies,' you'll be with us here for Commencement. Just think, Carol, birds and flowers and a blue sky and you here again. We'll do all the things we've done this summer. We'll watch the sunrise above old Timp and I'll al- ways thank the 'Y' for bringing you to me, and sometime in June — "The twenty-fourth of June — "The twenty-fourth of June then, let it be, and you'll be mine for time and all eternity. I'll help father with his business this winter and in the spring we'll build our home. Here, dear," and he put this ring on my finger. God is good, Diary; I ask no more than Jerald's love. P. S. Diary. Remind me to finish Ada's letter when I get home.