The following commencement address was delivered Thursday, May 25 at Guardian Angels Catholic School.
Good evening,
If you do not know me already, my name is PJ Whittington. I have had the great privilege of spending my first year teaching English with the class of 2023 and I am honored to offer a few words to help send them off tonight.
I would be remiss, of course, if I did not take advantage of my platform—and what attention you may have left—to relay to you one last story. As I considered what tale might adequately finalize your time here with us at Guardian Angels, a familiar favorite of mine, “The Golden Key” by George MacDonald, seemed to be the obvious choice. The story is, briefly, about the adventure of childhood, the loss of it, and the wisdom that is gained from our youth in the end.
“The Golden Key” opens in the room of a nameless young boy. As dusk settles on a small country town, our boy sits up in his bed to listen to a story from his great-aunt. She tells him of a town fable of a Golden Key that lies at the end of the rainbow. As she speaks, she points out the rainbow stretching out over the forest just outside their house. As all good children do, the boy asks many questions, “Did you ever know anybody to find it? What is the key like? Does a new one appear when the old one has been found? Is it like an egg? Does the key fall from the sky and slide down the rainbow?” His aunt, as I’m sure many of your parents have over the years, patiently listens to the boy’s questions before coaxing him, finally, to lay his head down to sleep. Of course, he only pretends to close his eyes; he cannot help but keep them fixed on the rainbow that stretches, glimmering, into the forest. Again, as all good children are liable to do, he cannot resist the temptation of the golden key and scurries out of his window and into the forest. As he nears the end of the shining rainbow, he spots the key on a rock and leaps on top of it to guard his newfound treasure. The story goes that he sat upon the rock, staring at the key, for so long that moss grew all over him, earning the name “Mossy.”
At the same time, a girl from a neighboring village peers out of her own window at the opposite side of the forest. She is, essentially, an orphan, and the maids who are charged with caring for her refuse to do so (apparently they do not much like children). Now, I did not warn you at first, but this is a faerie tale. And, being a faerie tale, it is assumed that we all know that faeries much despise unclean children. In fact, they are known to play nasty tricks on kids who don’t brush their teeth, clean their rooms, or wash their hands. Our poor girl, with no one to care for her or guide her to care for herself, is subject to many tricks by the faeries. Eventually, she becomes so scared that she, too, scurries out her window and into the forest. As she ventures into the darkness, she stumbles upon a small house inhabited by a beautiful, ancient faerie. She is taken in, fed, washed, dressed in new clothes, and affectionately named “Tangle” for her unkept hair.
I will spare you the details so that you may have the pleasure of reading the story yourself, but eventually the two children embark on a journey together to find the door which the Golden Key unlocks. They travel through forest and plains, mountains and oceans, in the skies and in the depths of the earth. I would, however, like to focus on one particular point in their journey. MacDonald writes:
“After a while, they reached more open spaces, where the shadows were thinner; and came even to portions over which shadows only flitted, leaving them clear for such as might follow. Now a wonderful form, half bird-like half human, would float across on outspread [wings]. Then, an exquisite shadow group of gambolling children would be followed by the loveliest female form, and that again by the grand stride of a Titanic shape, each disapperaing in the surrounding shadowy foliage. Sometimes a profile of unspeakable beauty of grandeur would appear for a moment and vanish. Sometimes they seemed lovers that passed linked arm in arm, sometimes father and son, sometimes brothers in loving contest, sometimes sisters entwined in graceful [embrace]. Sometimes wild horses would tear across, free, or [ridden] by noble shadows of ruling men. But some of the things which pleased them most they never knew how to describe. About the middle of the plain they sat down to rest in the heart of a heap of shadows. After sitting for a while, each, looking up, saw the other in tears: they were each longing after the country whence the shadows fell.”
I hope, by now, you will see the reason I find this tale fitting as the final story I will tell you as an eighth grade class. If not, maybe I should keep some of you for summer school! Some of you long ago, some of you more recently, came to Guardian Angels all on your own. All of you, certainly, were left by your parents in a strange, new place with strange, new people—more or less on your own for the first time. Along the way you learned about who you are, the world we live in, and, perhaps most importantly, you found companions for your journey. Now, we are asking you to leave one another and this place you have grown to love and embark on a new journey. Some of you will take friends with you, others will make new friends, but all of you will carry the memory of each other. Rest assured, your parents have given you the best by sending you to GA. Not only have you found each other, but you have learned one improtant thing: you have learned to see. What do I mean? Just as Mossy and Tangle, you have learned to see the shadows together from a country far away, to see the Mysteries of Heaven through Christ and His Church; to witness God in his creation and the way he has ordered our universe by learning Science and Math; to know God’s love for mankind by studying History and Religion; and, through literature and the arts, you have learned to behold the Beauty of God shining through mankind.
If I can impress one last thing upon you, it is this: do not lose sight of the blessings you have been given while you were here. They are sitting next to you, behind you, and in front of you. Together, with the help of your loved ones and teachers, you have grown not only into smart and successful people, but into people who are capable of speaking truth, doing good, and bringing beauty to our world.
In the end of “The Golden Key,” Mossy and Tangle do reach the country from which the shadows come from. They meet there, but each must make their own journey alone. In the end, after all, we are each on our own journeys, and I am honored to have played a small part in yours. So, Class of 2023, go forth on your journey knowing that we will all meet once again. If not next year, or in five years, or even in fifty, we will meet again in “the country from which the shadows come from”—though do not be afraid to journey back to us along the way.