Verhovayak Lapja, 1941. január-június (24. évfolyam, 1-26. szám)

1941-01-09 / 2. szám

SECTION TWO ENGLISH EDITION IMhovayJournal VOL. XXIV. JANUARY 9, 1941 NO. 2. It Grows In My Garden of Joys By MARGARET VARGO Branch 312, Idamay, W. Va. VIOLET Stars are prisoned in your eyes, Softly dcrk like midnight skies; Red lips curve as all day long Your voice is heard in lilting song, Tender and gentle. This is you Freshly fragrant as the deio. Though we have drifted far apart Your loveliness is in my , heart And takes me to the lonely height Where we meet in dreams at night, 'And merge our souls in love's delight. —AMELIA NYERS (American First Serial Rights!-----------O----------­HEAR YE! HEAR YE! The next ROUND TABLE Meeting will be held on Sunday, January 26, 1941, beginning at 2:00 p. m., in the Home Office, Standard Life Building, 345 Fourth Avenue, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Informal discussions relative to the well-being and progress of the English Section Verhovay Journal will be the gist of the conference. Unlike the invitations to the first ROUND TABLE Meeting, no individual notices shall be mailed out nor attendance re­stricted to any particular area, but invitations appear in the Journal and are open to any and aH contributors, or potential contributors. Please make it a point to at­tend this second Meeting which is so vitally concerned with our Journal. To Our Contributors Contributions Intended for the January 30th issue should be in before or on January 25th. No assurance of publication in particular issue can be given for material received after that date. CONTRIBUTORS, PLEASE READ Postal regulations prohibit publishing or mentioning in any way items pertaining to raffles or games of chance, and papers containing this informa­tion are refused admittance to the mails. Kindly eliminate such sub­jects from your articles. Now, that Christmas is over, gone are all the lovely decorations; the lingering scent of the pine inter­mingled with the other floral trimmings. The holly, mistle­toe and poinsetta are gone; the tinsel and ornaments have vanished from sight; and no longer do we see the lights which adorned the Christmas tree and windows. Gone are the lights which symbolize the stars of the heavens and which burned during the holiday season, not only in memory of One Whose birthday we celebrat­ed, but also for the greatest of joys one can have— FRIENDSHIP. Gone are also the beauti­fully decorated Christmas trees, but in my garden of thoughts and joys there grows a most unusual, per­petually blooming tree. It is a tree of rare meaning and beauty. Its roots are deep and strong. Neither the storms of troubles and mis-' fortunes nor the floods of tears have the power to up­root this tree. And “though the years are many and the years are long,” still, through all troubles “sturdy and staunch it stands.” This is my Friendship Tree. The longest branches are those which extend to Iowa and Illinois, New York and New Jersey; shorter ones reach to Ohio and Pennsyl­vania; but the crown is made up of the thick short branches which are the most numerous and which reach to all sections of West Vir­ginia. The leaves of all the branches absorb the mirth, the jollity, the smiles and pleasantness from the air of friendship, and produce the food upon which thrives this most magnificent tree. It blooms unusually. For each week there are a few blossoms: letters or other manfestations of friendship. BUT annually, when the entire tree is filled with blossoms, ft is a sight most rare and exquisite to behold. For at Christmas time each branch produces a blossom —a gracious message of good will, kindness and friendliness. Some persons say that Christmas joy is only in the anticipaton—in planning for the great day—in preparing to make others happy; and then, when the church services, the programs and parties have all been attend­ed, it is all over. Momentari­ly, yes, it is over. But as I sit here, getting ready to do what is my customary annual post- Christmas pleasure-filled job —that is, placing all the Christmas cards I received in my special greeting card scrapbook, there is a feeling within me which has a far­­reaching effect that fills me with a great joy. There’s nothing quite so grand, as true ‘and lasting friend­ships—and when, at Yule time, I’m remembered by about three score friends, my cup of joy is filled to the brim—no, it is over­flowing! Collecting things has been a hobby of mine for a long time, and about three years ago I started a scrapbook of Christmas greeting cards, placing thereinto cards dat­ing back to 1933. Christmas seals, small ribbon bows and stickers from packages, plus an occasional bell, tree. Santa, star, or other motif cut from the wrapping paper of gift packages, make at­tractive borders around the pages. This year the cards are particularly beautiful, and OMISSION The name of Miss Erma Chapter, Age 12, R. D. 2, West 17th St., Elyria, Ohio, should have appear­ed on the December CHIL­DREN’S PAGE in the list announcing the November picture puzzle winners. each conveys its message of hearty, friendly greetings and good wishes. They’re all lovely, from the smallest to te most expensive ones. A movement has started in this country to advertise and publicize the true meaning of Christmas, and never be­fore have I received so many cards dealing with the re­ligious side of Christmas— the nativity scenes, wise men, beautiful churches and cathedrals. Of course, the cute ones showing snowmen and Santa coming down the chimney, and the party scenes always create a feel­ing of mirth. For along with our serious thinking there must be a certain amount of jollity and mirth as in­gredients in our recipe for a life which is full and worthwhile. As I leisurely examine and sort my Christmas cards of this year, I make some de­ductions. In each I see something which reflects a characteristic of the per­sonality of the sender. Here are some of my thoughts: I’ll place this one first as I have done for three years, for her greeting al­ways arrives first. This lovely card was sent by a friend of many years standing. Our friendship started during the “mud-pie days” when we were ?>oth three. Some others from elemen­tary school friends. I haven’t seen this person for ten years. We attended Hunga­rian summer school together. This one’s from an artistic friend. It is a beautiful hand­made card, and with it is enclosed an original poem. Now, this one IS clever. A line of verse has been added above the poem on the card. It rhymes, it’s ap­propriate, and does it be­come a tribute to a funny incident of last summer! The girl with whom we crammed for art apprecia­tion exams in college sent this lovely one. Did we ap­preciate art? Well, almost as much as we appreciated each other's friendship. Then it’s always nice to get cards from people with whom I work, especially when the cards have, been selected with great care. Also, it’s fun thinking how long each person’s been known, where and when we met them, and how we got acquainted. Then it’s nice being re­membered by those with whom we enjoy taking trips, by a card on which the poem wishes me a pleasant journey through the new year. Here’s one with bells on it from the friend I haven’t seen since her wedding bells rang. She’s gone to New York to live, and how I do miss her! A musically inclined friend always sends one with perhaps the score of “Silent T

Next

/
  • Elrendezés
  • Igazítás
  • Forgatás
Oldalképek
Tartalom