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

1943-02-11 / 6. szám

VOL. XXVI. FEBRUARY 11, 1943 NO. 6 BIRTHDAY MESSAGE The QiftLife Reverend Chairman Fellow Americans It is indeed a rare pri­vilege to face this grand as­semblage and share the plat­form with so many nota­bilities. Enhanced is the honor by the high character of the task assigned to me. My mission is to propose for your adoption a Birthday Message in behalf of Amer­ican Hungarians to our be­loved President and exalted Coinmander-in-Chief — the leader and the hope of em­battled humanity — Frank­lin Delano Roosevelt. j-K- ^ Birth day Message of Amer can Hungarians to President Roosevelt proposed by Hon. Morris Cukor of New York. Adorted at Bridgeport, Conn, on January 31st, 1943 by the patriotic demonstration under the auspices of the A m e r i can Hungarian Federation. Mr. President—Honored Sir: At an imposing Patriotic Mass Meeting held at Bridgeport, Conn, under the auspices of the American Hungarian Federation of Washington, D. C. on Jan­uary 31st, 1943 Americans of Hungarian origin pay homage to you, Sir, the great American, the outstanding humanitarian and the lead­er of the heroic forces of the United Nations fighting to implant, secure and main­tain the Four Freedoms everywhere. No more earnest and ex­pressive greeting can be here conceived than the re­dedication by this assem­blage and the hundreds of thousands of their com­patriots to the supreme task of winning the valiant fight for the survival of democ­racy and the perpetuation of our priceless American heritage. In all humility v;e venture to note that it has been the high privilege of American Hungarians to contribute to the political, cultural, spi­ritual and material upbuild­ing of our beloved country and the preservation of her institutions. Thus was it given to us to make modest return for the inestimable To Betty Her hair is so blonde and her eyes are so blue, Yet her cheeks are as white as baby new; Her ncse turns red and her neck turns blue, Whenever she squeezes a cute little blush through; Her teeth are like pearls to match her blonde curls, Her lips are so tempting they set you in whirls; Her laugh is so cheerful and full of pep. It is the hardiest I have ever met; Her years are so young but her manners are high; It’s really remarkable how she can try! Our friendship was short and kind of snappy, Eut still it was one that was very happy; This war made us part, much to my regret, But it shall be continued, if you don’t forget. I’ll ab de by my promise; which I haven’t broken, You keep yours and please give up smokin’. Time is so short, yet life seems so long, I think I’ll stop now, ’fore I get the gong. ‘'White Christmas" is my song, please play it again, So Good-bye now. Good-night, Good Luck, Amen! z Always, JOSEPH KILMER (The above poem was written by Joseph Kilmer in Camp Breckenridge, Ky., and dedicated to Miss Betty Utasi, member of Branch 292, Matnville, N. J.) By KATHRYN RAW privilege of living as free men is a free land. With pardonable pride we recall the Hungarian born American Revolutionary he­roes: Count Francis Be­­nyovsky who as Captain of Hussars fought through the entire Revolution and Col. Michael de Kovács, the bril­liant Drill Master of Gen. Washington’s cavalry, who made the supreme sacrifice at the defense of Charleston on May 11th, 1779. Thence­forth in peace and in war have we striven by act and deed and accomplishments to be worthy of our coveted American citizenship. Of re­cord it is that the vast bulk of American Hungarians were solidly and faithfully for you and with you, Sir, at the time you first sound­ed the alarm and gave warn­ing of the impending men­ace of the Hitlers, Musso­linis and Hirohitos and their mad lust for world domina­tion, and more than ever are we loyal supporters and devoted followers. And now, that the Repub­lic faces the most imminent task in its history we here assembled, and through us all, our brethren through­out the Union, with all our hearts salute you, Mr. Pres­ident, and solemnly and sin­cerely pledge anew to our own United States “our lives, our fortunes and our sacred honor.” This message would not be complete, Sir, without adding that we, Americans of Hungarian Origin never lost faith in the common people of our ancestral land. As so graciously indicated in your message to Congress on June 2nd, 1942 the existence of a state of war between the United States and some­­of the continental countries,5 i including Hungary, was I not the desire of the com­mon people nor was it of their making. Hitler’s de­mand, backed by brutal force, was inescapable. The good people of our native land realize that (Continued on page 2) The gift of Life — the creation of humanity — was it an error on the part of God? When men’s hearts are torn by war and the ugliness of hate — where is the goodness and wisdom — manifestations of Him? A man may deny the existence of God and think he is a god and demand his brothers bow down before him and worship him as an idol. But his in­tellectuality is sterile — he cap not produce the results which God brings into existence. He is a false god — or, as nature defines him — an atom in the universe — a small part of the whole. The universe is man’s — the glory of the shining sun is his — yet he chooses to live in the small meaningless world of shadows — and desires the sordid things of life. His character is degraded and he reeks of foulness. He lived ages in bondage — in repression. Who can free him from slavery? Men have been in a state of morbid stupor so long that their faculties are completely inactive. Can humanity be resuscitated? It is difficult to bring back to life the lethargic human race. It is the individual who must evolve into something beautiful and full of the wonder of God. He must learn he is not an evil thing — but a creature imbued with the divinity of God! He must train his mind in a solitary silent place where he can meditate and glimpse the Original Perfec­tion to which he must have an earnest desire to reach. For through contemplation comes the wonderful knowledge of the universe and his relation to it. The individual — often called the genius — has found revealed within himself the mystery and meaning of the golden dawn. He tries to draw with him the rest of his human brothers up to the heights he has reached. But men cling to the desire of life — they want the illusions that pass with the night — un­knowing this leads to annihila­tion — the extinction of the divine gift of life. They have no knowledge of that part of themselves that is everlasting — their soul! — where are the secret dreams — the divine music — and the poems of God! Man was given reason to distinguish him from animals — he has an upright position so that he may walk the earth with dignity — and he has hands with which to create wondrous works of beauty. His hands should be occupied with sculp­toring of bronze figures to re­present nature’s children — re­producing on canvas the beauty of the colors cast by the rising sun when the soft rose of dawn touches the sky and the voice of the wind is gentle. If he listens closely — he can hear celestial music — and then he should write down these lyrical thoughts and share them with others of like mind. And when man has busied himself doing these things he has not only helped nature create a more beautiful world — • but he has created within him­self infinite beauties. He has fulfilled the glorious destiny for which he was born — and he deserves the divine gift of Life.--------------v-------------­Correction In the January 28 th issue the name of Alexander C. Petho, author of the ECHOES FROM LORAIN — Branches 372 and 17 — “Where Coal and Iron Meet” column was omitted. Our apologies to Mr. Petho! Men of Science By JIMMIE CSONTOS Men of science, I salute your cause, Men of science, you who never pause; Men of science, who strive toward your goal, As a priest strives to save each and every soul. Men of science, may your work never cease, And may your treasures in heaven increase. (Editorial note: Men of science was written over three years ago (at end of 1939) by Jimmie Csontos, member of the Juvenile Order of Branch 503, Chicago, when Jimmie was only 12 years old.)

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