Verhovayak Lapja, 1943. január-június (26. évfolyam, 1-25. szám)

1943-03-11 / 10. szám

March 11, 1943 f|_j® 5 Swinging Stars By KATHRYN RAW As the stars swing across the sky in perfect rhythm, fulfilling their heavenly destiny; so it is with men, who move through life, characterizing their indi­vidual role in the scheme of the universe. The man, hardly more than boy, lay on his stomach in the midst of the bulrushes. He moved forward cautiously, and then stopped suddenly, and lowered his head to the ground, as the enemy guns began to roar and spit forth their deadly fire. After a while the staccato sound ended abruptly, and the man raised his head, and peered ahead into> empty space. There was no one to be seen. But he knew it would be dangerous to make any sound or movement. He, the boy-man, lay there among the tall rush-like plants, on the damp ground, and stared at the dew on the ground. It was early morning and the sun had not yet dried the pearl mist that clung like a silver halo to the earth. The man — radiant in his youth! — what memories filled his thoughts! —­­the kind of memories that make life beautiful. He lost con­sciousness of his surroundings, and drifted into a world of imagination, where the earth was a golden cup, brimming with the precious joy of life. His ears opened to a strange world of sound, where he heard the soft sea-shell murmuring voice of some god humming a celestial tune of joy. He knew a kind . of happiness that held all the world’s dreams, and needed but a subtle command to bring them to life. He was caught in a magic of dreams, and was con­tent to remain in the realm of reverie. The roar of the guns sounded again, and he was rudely roused from dreams. His battalion moved forward, and he moved with the body of men. Then, somehow he became separated from the battalia. All day long he crawled on the ground, vainly searching for his unit of the regiment. Toward evening, he was exhausted, and lay still, his face on the ground. He heai'd a muffled sound. It came again, and he moved forward in the direction of the sound. He came upon a man lying in the mud, his breathing labored. He crept up cautiously to the stricken man, and gently turned him on his back. He hastily examined his wounds and discovered his injuries were fatal. He tried to make the man as comfortable as possible on the cold ground. The stranger began to speak haltingly, and the man leaned forward to catch the faint whispering sound. But the in­jured man spoke a tongue he could not understand. “Do you speak English?” he asked, softly. After a long pause, the other said, hesitatingly, “yes — I learned it at the Christian mis­sion — when I was a waif — wandering the streets — they fed me — educated me — the foreigners — in charge of the mission.” He lost consciousness, and there was nothing the man could do to relieve his suffering. It was hours before he regained con­sciousness, and grew aware of his surroundings. “Life — what is it?” he whispered, hoarsely. “And what is —• death? He •*— the war­lord — has forgotten the Path of Peace — the way of the Holy Buddha — that leads to Nirvana — the Blessed Peace.” He stopped speaking for a moment, and then resumed, laboriously, “I — I want peace — I want no strange new gods of the mis­sionaries — I want the old beautiful Path of Peace------------” his voice stopped suddenly, and the man knew he had drifted into a state of unconsciousness, out of which he would not awaken. He sat there, in the darkness, and stared at the form of the dying man. “O! Christ” he cried, in agony, into the stillness of the night. “When will all this strife end?” He looked up at the stars in the majestic serene heaven. How peaceful they were! They had no thought of hate, or the desire to destroy one another. Why does man, he, who is endowed with divine intelligence, harbor dis­eased thoughts that destroy his being? A sudden sound whizzed through the air. The man felt a sharp warm sensation surge through his being, and tried to rise, only to crumble, and fall on the man he had protected. He heard the stranger gasp beneath him, and give up his last breath, and then his own breath of life wafted away on the soft breath of the wind. Buddha! Christ! Which is the Way? They left the world of many paths leading to man’s con­ception of heaven and nirvana, and entered that world where there is no difference in color, creed or race, but only con­sciousness of the ONE WHO IS ALL. The stars faded in the pale dawn, and were lost to the sight of men; but when night came, they came again, illuminating the world with their light; so it is with mortal men, they, too, will come again and again, and bring their light to a darkened world and disperse the shadows.-------------------v-----------------­OUT OF LINE “Com-pa-nee atten-shun,” bawled the drill sergeant to the awkward squad. “Com-pan-ee, lift your left leg and hold it straight in front of you.” By mistake one member held up his right leg, which brought it out side by side with his neighbor’s left leg. “And who is the galoot over there holding up both legs?” shouted the hard­­boiled sergeant. Verhovayak Lapja Echoes from Lorain —Branches 372 ana 17 “Where Coal and Iron Meet” Isabelle Eleanor Kurjack Isabelle Eleanor Kurjack, seven months old, is the daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Edward Kurjack, Chester, Penna. Isabella Eleanor is a member of the Junior Order of Branch 466, Pitts­burgh, Penna. Her father, former writer of the Ver­­hovay Journal, holds a policy in the Senior order of Branch 466.--------------v-------------­BETTER PREPARED At a time when farmers’ cooperatives are being tested to the limit under the surge of war, it is a good plan for members to examine the stuff their organizations are made of, and how they were built in the beginning. Cooperatives that have been built soundly from the individual farmer up, and have been properly manned and managed, are better prepared to stand the stress of these turbulent times than the ordinary business concern. Members of such cooperatives are fortunate. Farmers had no such protection and hope in the other world war. —Dairymen’s League News TO THE CONTRIBUTORS The English Section is pub­lished the SECOND and LAST Thursday of every month except when • holidays inter­vene, and the Fridays IM­MEDIATELY preceding them are the final dates. Contributions intended for the March 25th issue should be in before or on March 19th. Address contribution to ENGLISH SECTION, VER­HOV AY JOURNAL, 345 FOURTH AVENUE, PITTS­BURGH, PA. Contributions should be type­written, if possible; but hand­written contributions are also acceptable. Typewritten Articles: Use one side of paper only, and double space. Contributors please confine articles to 1000 to 1200 words. Handwritten Articles: Make handwriting as legible as pos­sible. Word comes from the sunny land of India from Second Lieut. Mary M. Jávor, daughter of Mr. (Dead Eye) George (Secretary-Treasurer of Branch 17) and Mrs. Jávor, 1980 East 33rd Street. She reports that India is now undergoing its winter season and the cement quarters in which the nurses live are cold, and there is no means of heating them. She adds that even worse weather is to come, the dust storms of Feb. and March. There is no modern plumbing. Water for washing and bathing must be brought in from out­door wells. It takes about six trips to fill a tub. Native sweepers and dusters of the lower caste clean their rooms, shine their shoes, and do their laundry. The officers and nurses had a party on Christmas day. They had roast turkey, olives, pickles, and had an American baked ham, ice cream. ‘One hundred refugee children were their guests. It was the first real Christmas they had in years. The youngest was four. A picture of Lieut. Jávor and some of her companions taken in India and published in a Chicago Newspaper, was sent to the local newspaper by Martin V. McGill, who taught her chemistry in high school, and who is now at the University of Chicago. Miss Jávor left the States a year ago for foreign duty. Prior to her departure, she was stationed at Fort Harrison, Indiana. She graduated from Lorain High with the class of ’37 A. As a farewell courtesy to Miss Velma Uylaki, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Paul Uylaki, 1849 E. 30th St., who has joined the Spars, and who left for New York for active duty March 3, friends surprised her at a farewell party held at her home on Feb. 21st. Miss Uylaki was given a group luggage gift and also a corsage. We wish Miss Uylaki all the luck in the world and we wish also to thank her for her kind faithfulness and generosity. Mr. and Mrs. Peter Jerkovich, 2015 E. 31st St., have received word that their oldest son, John V., has been promoted to the rank of sergeant. Jerkovich, in the service since last April, is now "somewhere in North Africa”. Second Lieut. Frank “Hank” Andorka, Jr., one of Lorain’s top bowlers before he entered the armed services, is back at tank destroyer school, at Camp Hood, Texas, after a furlough spent with his parents, Mr. and Mrs. Frank Andorka, Sr. “Hank” recently received his commission as a second lieu­tenant after completing a course at the tank destroyer school. Mrs. John C. Rebman has left Lorain for a visit with her hus­band, Second Class Seaman John Rebman, stationed in California. Mrs. Rebman will remain there for a month. John J. Nemeth, of the U. S. Marine Corps, and son of Mr. and Mrs. Joseph Nemeth, 1535 E. 32nd St., has been promoted to rank of sergeant at the Marine Barracks, Naval' Air Station, Pensacola, Fla. Nemeth received his basic training at Parris Island, S. C. Frateernally, ALEXANDER C. PETHO. Your Dollars help ea make possible the AMERICAN + RED CROSS make possible the FAMOUS CLOSE SHAVES By Barber Spl SPEC TACULAR “TEDDY/ the LATE PRESIDENT ‘TEDDY' ROOSEVELT, SHOT WHJLE ENROUTE TO MAKE A CAMPAIGN SPEECH IN 1912, SURVIVED AND MADE HIS SPEECH. THE STEEL SPECTACLE CASE HE CARRIED SAVED HIS LIFE. SEA TO SEE/AN EXPLOSION ABOARD SHIP REUNITED SEAMAN ADRIANUS VAN BUREN WITH TWO BROTHERS HE HADN'T SEEN IN 25 YEARS. THE INCIDENT LANDED HIM IN A N.Y. HOSPITAL, AND CONTACT WITH HIS KIN. •*y*v >' OPTICAL DELUSION/ FLIGHT LT. DODSON, WHILE' 'BEING ATTACKED, REACHED IFOR HIS GLASSES ON A HOOK, IF HE HADN'T MOVED JUST A SECOND BEFORE THE BULLET WHICH GRAZED HIM, .■WOULD HAVE KILLED HIM !■ BARBER SOL SAYS: YOU CAN BET ON HITLER'S CRACKING WHEN UNCLE SAM GETS YOUR BACKING BUY MORE BONOS EVERY DAY

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