Verhovayak Lapja, 1943. január-június (26. évfolyam, 1-25. szám)
1943-01-28 / 4. szám
January 28, 1943 --------------s-------Verhovayak Lapja Page 7 Children^ Page Conducted by AMELIA NYERS MARISKA The story of the Csikós “Mariska! József!” mother called the children. “Hurry, or you will be late for school! And be sure to keep your gloves on and your scarf tied,” she said to the children as they got into the car. “Adi, do be careful. The snow has drifted and watch the corners when you turn,” she said to her brother. Uncle Adi laughed pleasantly. “Don’t worry! We will be all right.” They drove away slowly for the force of the wind had massed the snow. When they reached the intersection where Olive Street crossed Prairie Avenue, the car suddenly stopped. Uncle attempted to start the car but it refused to go. “Having car trouble?” a pleasant voice called. Uncle opened his window and recognised Mr. Kovács and his children in their sleigh. “Going to the Oliver school?” Mr. Kovács asked. “Yes,” uncle answered. “And if I don’t get the car started soon the children will be late.” “Well, I think we can make room for Mariska and József in the sleigh,” the man with the five children said. “This is fun!” Mariska exclaimed; as, she and her brother piled into the sleigh. The children huddled close and away they went over the snow-covered street with shouts of glee! Uncle was still trying to get the car started when Mr. Kovács returned with the empty sleigh. He, too, attempted to start the car but it would not move. Then he got out and pushed, while Adi stepped on the starter. The car was suddenly roused and began to move unexpectedly. The movement was slow and difficult. Gradually, the engine began to hum and the car moved evenly. “Thank you, Mr. Kovács!” uncle said to the man who had helped start the car. “Perhaps, it would be best if I were to stop every morning for Mariska and József,” the man said. “You must save your tires and gas is rationed now.” “Wouldn’t it be too much trouble?” “Of course not!” the other answered. “I’ll bring the children home this afternoon and call for them tomorrow morning.” He got into his sleigh. ‘Thank you!” uncle said and drove away. It was a long cold day. The wind carried a drift of snow clouds across the sky. The snow fell continuously. The sun set beyond the woods. Twilight enfolded the earth in a soft blue wrap. The winter evening was long. The white snow covered the earth with a thick cottonlike blanket. The trees were like sheer white paintings against the star-studded purple sky. The wind, as it swept across the fields, was songful. The chores were finished. The children were happy because th& evening brought the story hour. Father came into the living room and stirred the fire in the stove. “How the wind blows tonight!” he exclaimed. “I hope the chickens will keep warm tonight,” mother said, anxiously. She picked up a box adorned with gaily-painted carvings. She took dainty embroideries from the wooden case and began to ornament designs in needlework. József came into the room with a chestnut-filled skillet. He placed the frying-pan on top the stove to roast the nuts. Uncle entered .the room with his knife and several blocks of wood. He made various markings on the blocks. Mariska stayed with Ilona until the child fell asleep in her crib, clutching close her new doll. Then the elder girl joined the others in the living room. Father and uncle were discussing the morning’s events. “Mr. Kovács will take the children to and from school every day,” uncle said. “Oh!” Mariska exlaimed, breathlessly. “Whee!” József cried, tossing a chestnut into the air and catching it. “A sleigh ride twice a day!” “Your chestnuts are popping!” father said. József hastened into the kitchen and returned with a lid and placed it on the skillet. “How beautifully you embroider!” Mariska exclaimed, watching her mother work with the needle. “It is a lovely pattern. Embroidery is an ancient art of Hungary,” mother said. “Peasant women still use the same pattern they used centuries ago. And the patterns are full of tradition and imagination that came from their hearts. They had great picturing power and used this creative faculty extensively.” Mariska picked up the box in which mother kept her delicate needle-work. She ran her fingers over the exquisite figures carved on the sides and lid of the box. There was a handsome csikós — and how proudly he was mounted upon his superb horse! Cattle grazed contentedly on the plains — and the sky looked so real! There was a beautiful girl; a wedding scene in a small church and many people attired in colorful costumes. The girl wondered how uncle had the patience to carve the images on the box — they were so exquisitely artistic! “Uncle,” the girl suddenly turned to mother’s brother. “Tell us the story of the pictures you carved on this box.” “Well —” uncle began; and, laid aside his whittling and took the box from the girl. The roasting chestnuts were forgotten as József moved nearer his uncle, his eyes lighted with anticipation. Uncle caressed the images carved on the sides of the box. “Our story »begins heré.” He pointed to one side of the box. “Árpád was a young csikós who lived on the great plains of Hungary. He was not lonely for he had many herds of sheep and cattle to look after. He loved the clear blue sky, the warm sun, the singing wind and the soil, when he had moments of leisure he whittled. He made a large chest and covered it with beautiful carvings of hearts and roses. The young csikós filled this box with many beautiful articles he had carved of wood. There were match boxes, salt and pepper shakers, a dainty jewel box, a statue of Stephen, first crowned king of Hungary, and images of various saints. Then he made a beautiful locket and carved the picture of his sweetheart on one side of the trinket and his image on the other side. “When day ended and the long lonely night came, Árpád, wrapped in his mantle, slept beneath the stars and dreamed of her — Manci — daughter of the village innkeeper, many miles away. Uncle paused a moment and turned the box. “The carvings on this side of the box tell of Árpád’s adventures when he went to the csárda and presented the chest of precious gifts to Manci, the beautiful village girl. She accepted his gifts and placed the locket around her neck to symbolize their betrothal. Uncle turned the box again. “Here we see the lovers quarreled. Manci gave the chest back to Árpád and told him to leave. See how unhappy they are! Each is too proud to admit their fault. Sadly, Árpád mounted his horse and rode away, the chest under his arm. Manci watched from her window and hoped he would return. When he was out of sight she entered the csárda and pretented to be gay while she sang to entertain the guests in the inn. “And the carvings on this side of the box tell the story of the young csikós when he returned to the• plains. He was so lonely! The sky seemed no longer blue. The sun was not as bright and the wind was soundless. He did not sleep on the fragrant earth, but crept wearily, each night, into his small house and sank upon his cnide handmade bed. No visions of the beautiful Manci haunted his dreams. He did not whittle objects of beauty any more. There was no one who cared for the lovely carved wooden images. One day he opened the chest and fondled the beautiful articles. He discovered one trinket missing! It was the betrothal locket! She still cared for him! The thought gave him courage and hope. Árpád quickly mounted his horse and rode like the wind into the village. Uncle was silent a lew seconds. Then he resumed the story. “The picture on the lid depicts the wedding of Árpád and Manci. She was a beautiful bride! — all white and her diamondstudded párta was as beautiful as a queen’s head-dress. Árpád was handsome in white trousers with exquisite embroideries. His wide shirt sleeves were embroidered to match the trousers. He wore a red velvet sleeveless jacket embroidered to match the thread and there were small silver buttons to fasten the short coat in front. His boots were highly polished. Flowers were placed in his hat. All the people in the village came to witness the wedding of Manci and Árpád. The little church was filled to capacity and many spectators crowded on the steps outside. The priest pronounced blessings on the bride and groom. Everyone was invited to the wedding feast which lasted three days. Then Árpád took his beautiful bride to his home on the plains and they lived happily forever!” “Oh!” Mariska exclaimed, breathlessly. “The story of the csikós was beautiful!” “Some day I am going to make a chest for you and I shall carve on it the story of Attila, king of the Huns and the scourage of God!” József promised his sister. A furniture mover from Worcester, , Said—“I have become a big booster Of Bonds to help lick Those Axis guys— quick! (An’ I’m savin’ much more than I uster!”) It*« going to take a lot of BBSS money to win the War. Do your part by putting 10% frts of your income into War Bond« every month. V. S. Tremtury Dept.
