Verhovayak Lapja, 1943. július-december (26. évfolyam, 26-53. szám)
1943-12-09 / 50. szám
VOL. XXVI. DECEMBER 9, 1943 NO. 50. The Christmas Festival is observed annuity on the 25th of December, in memory of the birth of Jesus, the Chr'st. This season lasts from Christmas Eve, Dec. 24th, until the Epiphany, Jan. 6th. Centuries ago the Wise Men of the East followed the Star of Bethlehem, and found a Child wrapped in swathling clothes, who grew to be the greatest man the world has ever known. It was this same Child who taught men the relationship between God and man, the relationship between man and man; and instilled Love and Peace within the heart of man. He brought a strange message that has endured through the years; he taught racial tolerance, and kindness to the afflicted and poor. He was a Man of Peace, bringing a message of Love from the Heavenly Father. How ironic that man has misinterpreted his most sublime teachings! How outrageous that the severities of the Inquisition punished so-called heretics-men who had the courage of their convictions, who dared to voice an opinion contrary to the fundamental doctrine laid down by irtain men. Human sacrifices made in the name of God! Surely, this was not sanctioned by the Man of Peace. Down through the years to house, wishing the occupants a very happy holiday time. For several days before the Feast, the women of the household have been busy But this year Christmas will be celebrated somewhat differently. The traditional feast will not be as elaborate as in years gone by. In most families a loved one is far this has also been a season of rejoicing, goodwill, and feasting — much fasting in the household where children grow. It has also been a time of happy singing; of carols sung by innocent children on Christmas Eve, who go from house preparing the food that will be spread on the Christmas dinner table. Expense has not been considered at this time; for Christmas comes but once a year — and every luxury is indulged in, even if it means bills to be paid afterward. away; and those left at home do not want to participate in festivities in which their absent ones can not take part. At this season of rejoicing, their hearts are filled with fear— fear for the safety of the loved one, and fear for the future; for the world is swept by a holocaust — a destructive fire consuming large numbers of human beings. How will all this end? When will it end? These are the questions men are asking of one another. Only God knows what and when the end will be — whether or not, any good will come of this global conflict. Those of us left on the home front can speed the victory by prayer — asking for strength to keep our faith and carry on no matter what the test and trial of life may be. Although many will bow their heads in sorrow at this time of rejoicing, there are those of us who can lift our hearts and minds and souls and gather strength from the Father of All. Like the angel so long ago sang of peace and goodwill to the Wise Men; let us, too, raise our voices and sing of joy — sing of love — sing of Peace — and sing lustily of a future when men will be free — free at last, through Jesus Christ, the Savior born of a Virgin, who came to Show men the way back to God! T II EF A IS M E It By EDYTHE ANNE OROSZ Age 17 Hats off to the toiling farmer, Who raises corn and wheat; Without the faithful farmer, We city folks wouldn’t eat. We city folks often wonder What a farmer gets from life, He works such long, exacting hours, His life is toil and strife. When the corn is in the bin, And the hay is in the mow; The summer’s work is over, He puts aside the fork and hoe. All day long he plows his field, And never does complain; He likes his way of living; He welcomes sun and rain. Just ask this of a farmer. He’ll smile at you and say: “To see the world live happily, Brings me joy from day to day.” He settles down for winter, By the cozy fire-place; With summer’s work behind him — He has won the farmer’s race. He’s feeding our great Army, He feeds the Allies, too; And from his extra labors There’s enough for me and you. —------------------------------------------i_______ When the warm summer is over, And the fresh, gentle rain stops; The leaves have turned so golden; He harvest all his crops. Hats off to the farmer, Who raised the corn and wheat; Without the faithful farmer, — We city folks wouldn’t eat.
