divinity must live within

It is the woman in us
That makes us write
Let us acknowledge it
Men would be silent
We are not men.
|William Carlos Williams|

Yale. Four letters. Four houses. Four doors. Yet we are one; lives shuffled together as feet have shuffled from house to house, season after season, year after year; a permanent trajectory; physical evidence of memories kept only in our minds.

This indwelling idea of unity, this inherent Sisterhood, as we discussed, cannot be defined nor replicated. There is no blueprint, no formula. Only one word (four letters) which can come close to describing what exists between 1944 and 1920: Home.

Although Yale only physically exists between 19th and 20th east, its extensions are far-reaching. New Zealand, BYU, BU, Italy, St. Mary's, 900 east or Bryan Ave. Letters, packages, emails and voice mails sent across cities and seas. Yet, no matter where we roam, we always return, instantly blissful at the site of cars alongside curbs and lights on in bedroom windows.

What I cherish most about you girls is your divinity. Long ago, when I would watch over E and O, (seems silly now, doesn't it?) after children were slumbering, I would walk down the stairs and pause to stare at the cross stitch which daintily reads "Divinity Must Live Within." I thought if I stared at it long enough, perhaps divinity would take up residence within me. Divinity existed in that house, and in the house of the maker (ELS) and I wanted it to exist in me so badly. I see it now in you: the way you look after one another; the constant outstretched arm; the unlocked back door; the barefoot summer walk at nightfall; the spot under shaded tree or starry night sky. An ever-present place to lean my heart at times when it needs to be steadied. For those times, I thank you. For your divinity, I thank you.

I find myself wanting to take upon parts of each of you. To bottle you up and carry you away with me. To places, to people, to situations and first-salutations. You are me. In me. Part of me. Who I've become. Who I wish to be. My ideals. My Yale Girls. Constant. Beautiful. Dramatic and True!
M.