If a Poem Could Live and Breathe by Mary Calvi

Author:Mary Calvi
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Publishing Group

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AT THE POLITE reception, prim young ladies gracefully held their embossed teacups and spoke at a courteous level. Alice, a ball of excitement, wanted to shout. Knowledge for the sake of knowledge, so perfectly said. Knowledge purely for its own sake!

“Care for a crumpet?” Rose asked Alice, taking two from the server.

Alice could not eat a thing, caught up in her elation. She now focused on the decor of this room which seemed representative of Mrs. Agassiz’s research. Markings of nature were displayed on the furniture, the window treatments, even down to the hand-painted wall coverings. Walking closer to them, Alice examined the underwater scenes with fantastically imaged coral reefs and tiny anemone.

“The Radiates,” Mrs. Agassiz said as she approached her.

“Some are miniature little ones,” responded Alice, before quickly realizing she should have greeted her first.

“Diminutive in size, yes. However, through investigation and insight into these complex worlds, one realizes the wonderful process of development in uniting the most dissimilar individuals into one cycle of growth. Those considered insignificant can bring together and elevate entire communities.”

“How perfectly stated.”

“Glad you could join us, Miss Lee,” Mrs. Agassiz kindly added.

“The pleasure is all mine,” Alice insisted, taken aback that Mrs. Agassiz knew her name.

Martha and Rose were in full conversation as Alice approached.

“It is a sport!” Rose exclaimed.

“It is not!” Martha barked.

“Hello, ladies,” greeted Abigail Leach, joining their circle, taking them by surprise.

“Miss Leach, hello!” Alice’s voice volume rose a bit too high.

“May I ask what you are discussing?”

As she was about to answer Miss Leach’s question, Martha jumped in. “We were discussing,” she said with a nasal tinge to her voice, “which sport would be considered more prized: Would it be football, crew, or could it possibly be”—she rolled her eyes—“boxing?”

Alice cringed. She knew this to be the truth as to what they were discussing, but still, couldn’t Martha have come up with something else? Here was Abigail Leach before them. Alice’s forehead started to perspire.

“I, then, have a question for the three of you.” Miss Leach’s tone changed from pleasant to stinging. “Who is the hero of the hour?”

Alice wished she had still been looking at the wallpaper, being she could foresee this not going well.

“The successful athlete?” asked Abigail Leach.

Martha and Rose nodded.

“This hero of yours will do nothing to inspire you. For certain, he has comrades ready to bear him on their shoulders, his little world at his feet.” She opened the locket she was wearing and pointed to the picture. “I recommend you find a real hero. I find my inspiration from women who’ve come before me, such as my grandmother, who guided me into becoming the person I am and the person I strive to become.”

Alice let out an excited breath. She, too, had a locket with her nana’s picture and felt the very same way.

“You instead should show enthusiasm for the intellectually successful, whether it be a gifted grandmother or a gifted student. One who reads and studies because she delights to read and study is the new world, a world where sordidness and pettiness have no part.

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