Newspapers / Mars Hill University Student … / April 7, 1956, edition 1 / Page 23
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AJl ICiS For the month of Ms y'STST -Art Denartment is shoil-3'^^ Her hand lingered on the receiver as she placed it back in its cradle; time seemed to hang suspended as the chimes of the Catholic Church four blocks away began to strike the hour of noon. Below her win dow the hot city streets pulsed with the noise of people and machines. A woman’s amplified voice floated up from the parking lot across the street . . . "Ticket 439, green ’51 Chevrolet’’. A policeman’s whistle screamed at passing cars, and the rowdy laughter of the city workmen mingled with the other sounds. From the hallway came the noise of hammer blows, objects being moved, and indescribable sounds of construction. Would the noise from the hall way never stop! What were they doing.^ And those chimes! Her memory slipped back again. When Bobby was a few years younger she had stood in the church with his tiny hand in hers as the preacher prayed a final prayer over the body of her father, her last fortress of strength on earth. Hers alone was the struggle now of rais ing a fatherless son. Each day she had left him with Mrs. Carter, and each night she had hurried home to share his smiles and tears. He was a beautiful child, so full of life and . . . The hammer blows from the hall way seemed as though they were Janet Lett Why should sounds be so inevit able? Chimes, laughter, whistles, hammers! She tried to jerk herself into reality, but it faded from her as the chimes droned louder. She was back years before when bells had pealed on her wedding day, not Catholic chimes, but the bells of a small white church on the edge of town. Two years later on the same day the bells had rung again, but this time they tolled. He had died so young, but thank God, she had their infant son to rear. Now he was her life. She remem bered the lonely years that followed, and how Bobby’s childish laughter had gradually pulled her life into normalcy. her very heartbeat. She drew her hand from the receiver and pushed away from the desk. The office teemed and vibrated with the echo of the last Catholic chime, but the hallway was cool, and without feel ing she walked more quickly toward the east side of the building. All she had to do was turn the corner and there would be the window, open, and thirteen floors above the pave ment. It was a long way down, and so cool. A workman rounded the corner with tools and a work-case. An other followed. "Mornin’, Mam, nice day’’. She reached the corner, turned, and stopped. The hammers—that noise—those workmen! There were bars at the window, cold, black, iron bars. Back at her desk she again picked up the receiver and dully dialed a familiar number. Distantly she heard her voice saying, Frances, can you pick me up? Mrs. Carter called. A truck hit Bob by; he’s in the emergency clinic at Grady. Yes, I’m at the Hurt Build ing, thirteenth floor. No—no. I’m all right.’’ Evening (Continued from Page 10) plain. They looked like the tracks of a barefoot man, I really got scared! We instinctively squatted right there. As I used my ears and nose, I felt the hair rising on the back of my neck. There was a distinct scent of dog about the place. Our dogs were back where we had left them, and they were down wind. We didn’t speak. We didn’t have to. We left that place as quickly as possible and have never been back. Someday it may be that curiosity will get the best of me and I will go back, but I doubt it. Thine To Mify Li To you. Mars Hill, two of the most imporVas a moment- our lives, years in whienough for a h sonalities develop, oiit^ a wordless p) toward life are formed,leard the low, tures molded. To yot her petition w leadership we commit f guidance and inspiratioi^^ greeting wa turned aside in the on^ . ^ little life to seek a richer, warmth th you as a stepping stone*^*^ 1^^^ pleader low it is.” An Inspire us to great^ys that had b and higher aspirations, anst her in a s dormant talents that H^g became onl Anoint us with wisdoiTid for the casi Crown us with zeal and; passing bet that will endure deptb pointment as well as success. Mold us that ' ^ with Robert Browning How about yc ness is not to remake ml good. What’' make the absolute best o made.” , „ ng much. that said Everything Lucy sin listened to t’ tie nreoccuoii different. H I careful—ted _Jie were edgin e irregular ri w that he ha m / ^nd satisfy hij ri^ht, that s ' Let me say th( ” And yet Every hill has a voice, d on — the h A particular voice ig—saw Mik Which immediately poi^t thev mean Sometimes the voice 'kward mome Is a ridge, the way it bei’ the unspoke Sometimes a meadow, inds. He ne^ The way it lies. o her, but sh( Sometimes a rock in a avoided Has a voice all its own. Here is a fallen log ^^nted to c Which lies below the awkwardr ™ed m This hill has a voice, andj So does that one, -e this. Not i But only those who list's* ^ Can hear the voice of ths It’s a soft voice that the 1^*^^»** A voice so soft that I ha'" my ears ‘NDRA Hi So that I can hear. —Don! HILLTOP—PAGE TWENTY-TWO audi L i 1 nu. nn.nar iiw triimnptpr5
Mars Hill University Student Newspaper
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April 7, 1956, edition 1
23
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