I keep my dorm keys on a Hogwarts key chain that my cousin brought back for me from Harry Potter World. From the same ring, my glossy ID swings and a black lanyard that tags me as a college student. I barely know my way around campus and my head is swimming with details about what I can and cannot hang up in my room. But here I am, that place I dreamed of being when I was twelve and so taken with college. Orientation has kept me too busy to really realize that I’m not arguing with Enoch about walking the dog.

However, homesickness hit me hard a week earlier when I was hiking in the Adirondacks with some other Gordon freshmen. Sometimes you just can’t help but miss people. But I’m grateful I had such a long drive up with my family before I stepped out on this new adventure. Classes begin on Wednesday although I’m not sure what I’m taking. Honestly,  I have no idea what I’m doing.


I suppose no one does.

Veronica A.

Leaving Csehy


I was trying to convey how I felt about my last summer as a camper at Csehy to an alumni. I struggled to express the jumble of sadness and contentment that was swishing around inside me. However, my visiting friend suggested that: “It’s like leaving Narnia.”  That was exactly how it felt. Willmos and Gladys Csehy sang this camp into being in their devotion to God and music.  For 54 years, God-fearing lords and ladies have been looking after campers as they step into this magical and melodic setting. Csehy is a haven.


Like Lucy at the end of The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, I was going to say good-bye to a world I loved dearly. Yes, I can return as a counselor. But it’s different. This was my last summer as a participant in the story. Now, Csehy was not always dancing with fauns and singing with dryads. As in The Lion,the Witch, and the Wardrobe, there were battles; both faced alone and with companions. But those days only helped me grow closer to God and to friends.


IMG_3077    This last summer changed me. I felt as if my life posture was fixed. For so long I had it was all about me. But it isn’t. All that I have and am belong to God. And that is the way I want to live my life. The people at Csehy helped me see that.





I love Csehy, but it is only a shadow of what is to come. One day, I’ll pass through the doorway, just like Lucy in The Last Battle.

Veronica A.

Away at Camp


As you read this I will be stuck in some closet space or locker room with my harp, plucking away until my fingertips are raw. And enjoying every minute. Though my electronic communication items have been temporarily seized, I will return to posting weekly when I come home from camp in two weeks. But for now I will leave you with this fun tidbit about my harp (the blonde one in the picture):

I named her Andromache, after Hector’s wife from the Illiad. I had a slight crush on him.

Veronica A.

The Finale



For one brief but exhausting week, I had my friends. We were given seven days to eat Chick-Fil-A, drink several gallons of water (as a result of a purchase mistake at Target) and be merry around the Eden Resort and Hotel. And we nearly did it all.

Other years, Veritas Press’s  End of the Year Gathering felt like a whirlwind of events and wardrobe changes. But this time, it was just a week to be with friends and to do normal teenager-y type of things, which we couldn’t do while living thousands of miles apart. Yes, such things included wandering aimlessly around a mall.

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Graduation was surreal. I sat in the back of my friend’s car listening to my done-with-exams anthem, “Domino” by Jessie J, when I realized I was heading to the last event of my high school career. The thrill was electric, as we donned our royal blue gowns and shuffled into the overcrowded lady’s room to adjust our caps. Not only was I marching behind teachers who had graded pages and pages of my work, but I was walking beside friends who had helped me through nervous break downs and directional derivative problems. Personally knowing more than two-thirds your graduating class makes the listening to the long list of names much more interesting.  I had the privileged of sitting behind and staring at the feet of two of my best friends as they gave their valedictorian and salutatorian speeches. I was so proud. And despite how clichéd family graduation photos can be, I made sure I had some. They felt oddly important to me.

I’d like to make it clear that I’m the one graduating, but my mom was a teacher so she donned robes too.
Killer Calculus partner & late-night Skype buddy
Crazy Staten Island friend and fellow Advanced Physics survivor
My gracious Senior Thesis professor who dealt with my numerous panicky emails and phone calls.
One of my few sane friends who I conquered Senior Thesis with.
The faithful woman who told me not to give up and kept on praying for me.

Some kids mentioned that they didn’t feel any different after the ceremony. And for some, this was their second time through with the tassle-hassle. However, once I took a hold of that diploma and that Bible something changed. I felt relief. It was done.

And though I grieve that many of those people I shared that week and ceremony with I won’t see again, I am grateful to have known them, and I am certain that I have established friendships which God has given me for life. I will miss you Veritas and friends, but not you, Calculus.

Veronica A.



       What did it all mean? I had nothing to do. Well that’s not strictly true, but at least no homework to do. I had longed for this moment every day of my senior year, but when it came I didn’t really know how to handle it.
     As I lay in bed yesterday morning, staring at the ceiling and realizing I had no left-over Physics problems to attend to, I tried to recall what I enjoyed when my life wasn’t utterly consumed by school. The first thing that came to mind was organizing. This was something I used to take an abnormal amount of pleasure in, but it did not sound like a fitting way to spend my first day of summer. Relief followed the submission of my last exam, but I’m still recovering. The joy is coming, just momentarily jumbled with the aftermath exhaustion.

Veronica A.

P.S. The picture is what my Physics II teacher put at the end of her final exam.

Those High School Things

1. Staying up way too late skyping with friends…like 4 a.m. late.

2. Waiting till the 11:55 pm to tun in an assignment due at 12:00 a.m. EST.
3. Crying.
4. Sitting with your friend on Skype, while she cries.
5. Having six assignments all due on one weekend.
6. Saying “no” to social stuff because of school.
7. Complaining about not having a social life.
8. Being really really really pale.
9. Watching a Bollywood drama about escaping, at 2 a.m.
10. Being tired.
11. Drinking endless amounts of coffee.
12. Shopping online, because I don’t get out much.
13. Leaving the house only once a week.
14. The study session that turns into an interrogation about love interests.
15. An odd obsession with camels.
16. Getting mail from friends.
17. Trying to remember what time zone your friend lives in. 
18. Yearning for the day when you can actually hug your friends. 
19. Counting down the days till the end.
20. But then realizing you’re going to miss it, because it was all so worth it.
Veronica A.

The Hollow Men By T.S. Elliot

Mistah Kurtz – he dead.

A penny for the Old Guy 


We are the hollow men

We are the stuffed men

Leaning together

Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!

Our dried voices, when 

We whisper together

Are quiet and meaningless

As wind in dry grass

or rats’ feet over broken glass

In our dry cellar

Shape without form, shade without colour, 

Paralysed force, gesture without motion;

Those who have crossed

With direct eyes, to death’s other kingdom 

Remember us – if at all – not as lost

Violent souls, but only

As the hollow men 

The stuffed men. 


Eyes I dare not meet in dreams

In death’s dream kingdom

These do not appear: 

There, the eyes are

Sunlight on a broken column 

There, is a tree swinging

And voices are 

In the wind’s singing 

More distant and more solemn 

Than a fading star.

Let me be no nearer

In death’s dream kingdom 

Let me also wear

Such deliberate disguises

Rat’s coat, crowskin, crossed staves

In a field

Behaving as the wind behaves

No nearer – 

Not that final meeting 

In the twilight kingdom


This is the dead land

This is cactus land

Here the stone images

Are raised, here they receive

The supplication of a dead man’s hand

Under the twinkle of a fading star.

Is it like this

In death’s other kingdom 

Waking alone

At the hour when we are

Trembling with tenderness

Lips that would kiss

Form prayers to broken stone. 


The eyes are not here

There are no eyes here

In this valley of dying stars

In this hollow valley

This broken jaw of our lost kingdoms

In this last of meeting places 

We grope together

And avoid speech

Gathered on this beach of this tumid river

Sightless, unless

The eyes reappear

As the perpetual star

Multifoliate rose

Of death’s twilight kingdom

The hope only

Of empty men. 


Here we go round the prickly pear

Prickly pear prickly pear

Here we go round the prickly pear

At five o’clock in the morning. 

Between the idea

And the reality

Between the motion 

And the act

Falls the Shadow

For Thine is the Kingdom 

Between the conception

And the creation 

Between the emotion 

And the response

Falls the Shadow

Life is very long

Between the desire

And the spasm 

Between the potency

And the existence

Between the essence

And the descent

Falls the Shadow

For Thine is the Kingdom 

For Thine is

Life is

For Thine is the

This is the way the world ends

This is the way the world ends

This is the way the world ends

Not with a bang but with a whimper.