I found this paragraph on the page of those alumni updates as I read the issue. It had been composed by one of the members.
My grandma died when I was in college. I went to spend a few weeks with my grandma, and she shared with me. It was written by my ancestor my grandma translated it to French, in Polish, and I to English.
As a fantastic founder once explained,”The majority of these challenges in our lives are puzzles, not issues.” Reading the notice from the grad of 1943, I was attracted back to transcribing the diary and I remembered how very grateful I will be solving puzzles.
Our”last supper” date was December 12, 1942. It was in the dining room. Arthur Hayes Sulzberger and president Hopkins, publisher and president of this New York Times, were the keynote speakers. No family, no pomp, no valedictorian no cap and gown. The dinner ended with hugs and tears . We scattered in various directions the next morning. We faced World War II in hellip & its moments ;91% of the class has been led to the armed forces.
I went to a school that sends graduates every month it and publishes a journal. At the rear of the magazine, there’s a section that lists updates from alumni grouped by the year of graduation.
Photo from Hans-Peter Gauster on Unsplash
In that process, I felt an immense sense of the triviality of my challenges, of appreciation for all the hardship and sacrifice our families suffered, of the smallness of my worldview. Like many countless others across conflicts, our family’s history has tales of escapes and horror and tragedy.