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Show 9 Deccttboif 19,'. 1941.' SOtrrg-HlGH.'SCKIB- Page Three- - Perfect 3$mz---uv- $ Jforeber jjfJ . By Thelma Urli . ? t FIRST PRIZE ESSAY sounds more like a contradiction than a war. There is a strange missing link somewhere in our lives this parti-cular year. We pay homage to Christ, the Prince of Peace, by celebrating Christmas in His hon-or. On the other hand we are in-volved in a struggle which, per-haps unthinkingly, is a war of pacific or peace-makin- g. Where is this missing essence? You should already know, for it it is in the hearts of man. In the depths of their very souls they carry a flame, brightly burning, one that will never die because it is so instilled within them that it can never per-ish. It shouts unceasingly, "Some day soon, and from that day forever after we will have as our own, and cherish above all, "Peace on earth good will toward men" and Christ will rule unquestionably, not only as Prince of Peace, but as Supreme King of the Universe. "And in, despair I bowed my head, There is no peace on earth, I said." Words of Henry . Wadsworth Longfellow's immortal poem is ringing in my ears this evening because as I was listening to the carol ushering in the merry sea-son of Christmas, I heard the mes-sage on the radio that war had been declared on the United States. Th is communication so clearly said to me another thing. It said, "In our lives 'now, the time has come that the reason we and every Christian nation observe Christ-mas has been torn from its very foundation. Now, in our demo-cracy, the only one in existence, the spell of peace on earth good will toward men has been demol- - jri ished, not because we willed it so, but because it has been forced upon us." Christmas, as-w- e all know, pays reverence to Christ, the Prince of Peace. He, who taught to love thy neighbor as thyself, would surely be discontented to see exploding bombs, flashing bayonets, and wounded soldiers crying for the angel of dqath to deliver them from their misery. He would won-der if His crueification had been all in vain, if we so little loved Him for what He had done for us that we would forget Him and His teachings so completely. Our Christmas this year may be vastly different from that of the past, or it may be the same, but whatever it may be, in our Christ-mas there must remain the price-less quality of solemn, sacred rev-erence, and humble prayer, for dis-order is a synonym of sin and strife. Our new conflict is called tenta-tively, "The War of the Pacific." How strange this is, when we know Pacific means peace - making. 'The War of Peace-making- .' It I & CfjUii ?as JBorrr : I r By Shirley Ancell 3? ft SECOND PRIZE ESSAY jj lie began journeying about Jeru-salem, spreading His gospel and promoting faith in God. His teachings were made up of par-ables--sh- ort stories illustrating His message. An illustration of His direct simple approach ia Christ's conversation to some busy fishermen. ."Come with me," He said "and I will make you fishers of men." "Fishers . . that was a word they could understand . . . fishers of men ... that was a new idea . . . what was He driving at . . . it sounded interesting . . . well, what is it, anyway?" The idea was interesting; they listened and were converted A child was born. Heaven open-ed its gates. to admit to earth the soul which was to be a ray of hope in a dark and dreary world. In a lowly stall filled with a glorified heavenly light, the child was born. Many shepherds came to worship Him. Wise men and kings hon-ored Him with precious gifts. When the Frince of Love entered the world that He was to save, He indeed was recognized. Though this child, Jesus, grew physically like any young boy, He seemed to understand life more fully than any of His friends. His childhood was as rich and beauti-ful as were His teachings of later life. When He grew to be twelve years old, He often visited the temple and talked with the preach-ers and prophets who were con-gregated there. He was a thought-ful young person and began His teachings when He was still very " young. As He grew, He developed His teachings. At the age of thirty Sftinq Vat Scn Out, FIRST PRIZE POEM Ring out! Ring out, glad Christ-mas bell, And send thy transcendental tones To all whose hearts and souls can tell Of gladness, struggles, hopes, and moans. To the miser and his gold, Where a song may come to life. To the shepherd and his fold, May his day be far from strife. For the tramp who has no label, Make the Yuletide flame relation. Let the lackey in the stable Raise his thoughts above his sta-tion. To the fathers, and the mothers, All the daughters, and the son. Yes, them, and all the others Pierce with gladness, everyone! So ring out! Ring out, Christmas bell, And tell all the earth the season. Let thy melodious pealings swell With good cheer as thy reason. I & C!jris!tma GTapeStrp of &rafoetjue Jrostt I By Stella Ktestes & SI FIRST PRIZE STORY rg you are hungry! God is cursing you at every word you say! I've sweat blood night after night working over my theory on the Black Death. Trying to find that one error which kept it from be-ing successful; trying to perfect a serum you had perfected six months ago. Yes, now I know. You kill-ed my brother because he knew the successful serum. You were afraid he might receive the honor which you wanted so badly you even killed for it!" Joel Ratchet spoke softly: pois- - The demoniacal violence of com-bined snow and wind bent their passion full upon' the indistinct house which was rapidly becoming completely invisible. Indeed, even now the wind grew angrier as it unsuccessfully endeavored to gain admittance to the door. Alas, the snow had long made this impos-sible for it had drifted into a re-lentless barricade obscuring the door and windows, merely leaving the wind free to whisper mourn-fully about the eaves and chim-neys. Within, the. oil lamp sent its feeble flickering light bravely through the window only to be lost a few feet beyond swallowed by the opaque snow. It was a futile night: heavy, airless nocturnal moments filled with expectant omen; prognostic with deep shad-ows. No less crestfallen were the two occupants of the house. Futility molded their features with shad-owy fingers and their eyes were haunted with catastrophe. A ner-vous restlessness nurtured by three month's silence goaded the heavy steps of one of the men, as he paced the length of the room, stop-ping to look out of the window, knowing' he would be greeted with the emptiness he had been viewing for ninety days. He was a singular man, still repulsive in his singular-ity. He had the bigness of an ani-mal with an animal's alert stealthy movements. The palms . of his hands were overlarge . humps of meat hard, yet known to be soft in their slimy touch of wantonness. His head was heavy in proportion to his body and was covered with a rough thatch of muddy blond hair. Heavy were his jowls startlingly Devil, you are! He is black of ap-pearance and of soul just as you." The man at the window smiled a mirthless answer and lit his pipe. The minute glow of his match lit his face an instant and then died to leave it obscure again. But in that moment, one observed the character in his face. He was taller than his companion, lean but well-buil- t. His black hair lay thick upon his head waving in its weight. Black side-bur- ns continued into a beard somewhat shorter than that of his associate. Upon first seeing him, one would in-stantly notice his eyes. They dwelt in shadowy hollows in his head; his soul written plainly in them. Eyes which could wither in their glance or hypnotize and intoxicate like black wine. "A pious speech on Christmas eve, Joel Ratchet," said he with the pipe. "Surely, even with an empty stomach, you could think of Christ on Chistmas instead of the Devil!" Ratchet looked towad the man. "You are as mad from hunger as I soon will be, Lincoln Visure! Christmas? It is well past Janu-ary." "How would you know ? The cal-endar was burned a month ago. Next you shall burn the floor you stand on to keep you warm. You have milk in your veins instead of blood!" "And you have water! I'm a fool to stand here! I have worked for years finding the serum for Bu-bonic Plague, and ,now I find I need only destroy you and dis-ease will be extinct from the earth. The Devil is the only one who would cause the Black Death!" At this, Visure threw his pipe to the floor and stepped forward. Dusky fury leapt from his eyes and his sinews grew rigid with the desire to leap upon this man and wreak his venegance. His shadow loomed dark in its monstrosity, covering the wall and ceiling. As suddenly as the seed pf anger had escaped it was controlled again. "You have the audacity to men-ti- n the serum! You dare to say onously calm: "You are beside yourself with hunger, Lincoln. You mistake my intentions. I was working in the laboratory with your brother, yes, but dropping the test tube of Bu-bonic germs was purely acciden-tal." "You lie!" qntqrrupted Visure. "You killed my brother and then had me alone to eliminate. You planned that very skillfully when you sent me here for research work, careful to forget enough food supplies, didn't you? Then came the flaw the one flaw that spoiled your beatuiful plan of in-dividual victory and which was your death sentence as surely as it was mine! You found you were necessitated to accompany me, to this damned hole. There was no way out and too damned late to bring more food!" Lincoln Visure stood by the table; the fickle candle light exaggerat-ing the angles of his face and lighting his eyes to black light-ing. He stood: an accusing Greek god with quinine dripping from his tongue and scorn upon his lips. "You knew you would starve we would starve before the re-maining scientists came on Christ-mas," continued Visure. "But Joel Ratchet great scientist for his damned self was not to be crash-ed beneath his own trap. So you carefully took the food, twice your share, little by little like a thiev-ing rat. You planned to show a starved appearance when they covered with a fire-re- d mass of hard beard covering his mouth and even his throat in mad defiance to his blond hair. Finally, his eyes were small slits of watery blue, ever roving as restless as his feet. Suddenly he stopped in his mono-tonous walking; turned to face his silent companion leaning upon the deep window ledge. His voice sounded strained unnatural as it broke the silence. "For hell's sake, say something! Say anything to break this damned quiet! I can't, even hear the wind any longer!" The distant moan of the wind and the whisper of the burning lamp was his answer. "I wish to heaven you could . go to hell and then we should see if that superior smirk upon your face wouldn't 'change to bloody yells as you burned!" tha red-beard- ed man continued, but he lowered his eyes for he could not stand that black look of loathing. "I would accompany you gladly just for the pleasure to see your reserve brok-en. Anything to get out of this! Perhaps in hell, I should not have the curse of hunger clinging to my stomach like lichen to a tree!" "Why do you say 'when' you are in hell?" the silent man finally said between his teeth. "We are in hell now and you are Satan!" "Your tongue lies! I am not the came on Christmas and to be 'Oh, so sorry' because of my death. You forgot I might also do the same; might also take food little by lit-tle. And now we have no food, and we shall go to hell in each other's poisonous embrace!" Two mute bodies lay cold upon the floor. It could be noticed they were swollen and a peculiar black-ness colored their throats and ac-companied lumps beneath their arms. The face of he with the red beard was hideously twisted into the agony experienced by those who face death with a reluctant fear. Lying close by was Visure; his face softened into thankful re-lief and his lips held the smile of victory while his eyes seemed to look out of the window and beyond. Well he might have looked, for through the tapestry of arabesque frost came men. laden with food and supplies. The scientists had come, and they were singing Christmas carols. By Kenneth L. Hubbard ' HONORABLE MENTION It was Christmas night, when all thru the world, Not a person was moving, nothing unfurled. It was desolate and quiet, all was despair. The birds and animals were the only things there. The sky was colored a dark blood red As if all civilized people were dead. It was a year to come, that has been forecast. If these wars and others, continue to last. It's time we stop thinking about our own well-bein- g. And the problems of all, we should all start seeing. It's time we got down, with our knees 'on the sod, And for this, and all Christmases, give thanks to God. 0kmemleel Srevev HONORABLE MENTION Once again the season most thought of, loved, and most cele-brated by the world has arrived. The bright lights, and Christmas trees, the crowds of people, games, and toys commemorate the day so long ago when the Christ Child was born in Bethlehem. Heavenly voices of angels were heard by shepherds in the fields telling them to go unto Bethlehem where they would find a babe wrapped in swaddling clothes. The story goes on, and the Chiist grows into manhood. His life was spent in .ministering to others. He of-fered truth for . suffering, comfort for misunderstanding, and gave his life for the hatred of men. This one man's life has done for all men what rulers, kings, and wars could not conquer. He left a memory which has lasted down through the centuries to enlighten the poor, lift up the depressed, and remind all of peace, and love. People of the Christian world celebrate this day, yet a great many know .not the reason for which they are celebrating. This year when Christmas comes to the war torn countries of Europe, it will find people who wish for and long forpeace, whose bodies and minds show the terror of bombing, and the lack of proper food. Surely then, we, the people who still have the rights of a free coun-try should make this Christmas more to us than just a riotous day of celebration. We should feel in our hearts the real meaning of Christmas. Every Christmas tid-ing should remina us of the Christ, and his suffering, the horrible war and disaster, ,and instill in the hearts of the American people a de-sire for peace and happiness. With each Christmas toy, or sprig of holly some one will be made happy and remember the Saviour. With every cheery smile some heart will be warmed. Christmas is the day for all hu-manity, the day of love and happi-ness. It is the time when the chil-dren shout with glee at the toys Santa has left. . Every home is brighter, every heart is lighter be-cause a child was born in Bethle-hem. 'Jed ff .?lcvc HONORABLE MENTION At certain times, throughout the year, The people like to spread good cheer, They sing about the God of Love, Of Him who has His home above, And how He left and came to earth, Of His obscure and humble birth. Some people think of all He taught, 'Bout how to do the things they ought, And others of His persecution, In bringing to the world's atten-tion His light of love, good will, and cheer, Of how to face all kinds of fear, . Of peace on earth, good w'!l to-ward men, Let's hope, some day He'll come again. At certain times throughout the year The people like to spread good cheer, They say, "Let us all be happy now. We'll try forgetting the other somehow. For us the war won't exist today; We'll laugh and dance, sing, and be gay." But way down deep in our hearts, there's a fear, For we know that the war is quite ' near. We know our Christ will come some day. Until He does we'll have to say This theme we always will remem-ber. It shall burn as does an ember Until it bursts into a flame, And all will shout this theme again! "Peace on earth good will toward men, Peace on earth good will toward men'" fM'T. Practice Limited to Optometry Jijn 71 So. 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