May 28, 1943
THE LEXHIPEP
Page 3
Love At First Sight
Mary Catherine Troutman
Yes, Son
—Willie Catherine Greer
It was a very lovely day in the mer
ry month of May. The birds were
singing, the flowers blooming, and the
trees were well-dressed in their green
garments. Yes, it was a day when
everything seemed to be bubbling over
with joy. But, alas, in the bedroom
of a beautiful home on Maple Street,
Delores Blair was crying as though
her heart were breaking. Perhaps she
was sick, or her conscience was hurt
ing her, or her parents may have ob
jected to her going to a club dance.
But these are not the answers. No, it
was just that thing called “love”
which seemed to be breaking Delores’
heart.
Delores was a very attractive young
girl and a senior in high school. Her
jet black hair lay in lovely curls about
her shoulders, and her blue eyes al
ways seemed to be hiding some thrill
ing secret.
She was engaged to Dennis Murray,
a prominent business man’s son, and
everyone was looking forward to their
marriage. Everything went along
smoothly until she was introduced to
Larry Deane at a dance one night.
Then things went from bad to worse!
Throughout the day, while sleeping ^
and even when in the presence of
Dennis, she could think only of Larry.
But why should she be so much in
love with him? After being introduc
ed to her he didn’t even bother to ask
about her family, her likes and dis
likes, and whether he should be per
mitted to see her again.
Larry was the only son of a poor
carpenter. He lived in a near-by city
and was forced to work at a black
smith shop in order to help with the
upkeep of the family. He was truly a
nice-looking boy—tall and slender,
with dark, wavy hair and sparkling
blue eyes. He seldom had time to
\’isit anyone or to run around with a
_ crowd, but whenever it was convenieiat
* to do so, he was always popular with
everyone.
Delores’ evenings with Dennis be
came more and more dull and gloomy
as the days went by until she finally
lefused to see him again. This broke
his heart, because he was deeply in
love with her. But rather than to
cause any disturbances of any kind,
he took a trip to another country and
decided to spend his future life there.
After this Delores stayed at home
all the time. She was never seen at
the dance halls, and no one visited
her anymore. Her youthful days were
being entirely thrown away. But one
day she received a telegram, and upon
reading it she became greatly confus
ed. It was the news of the death of
her grandfather, but she had never
known any relatives by that unfam
iliar name. She immediately question
ed her mother and father about the
telegram, so there was nothing left for
them to do but to tell her. She dis
covered that Mr. and Mrs. Blair were
only her foster parents and that they
had adopted her soon after the death
of her parents. Her father had been
killed in some sort of accident, and
her mother died about three years
later. She was also told that she had
an older brother, but no one knew
anything of his foster parents or his
home town. He had also been adopt
ed but was taken to another city to
live, and after that no one saw or
heard of him.
Delores went to the funeral the fol
lowing day, and while on the way
thoughts of her relatives buzzed
through her mind. After her grand
mother was laid away to rest, she was
introduced to her relatives. While
having a conversation with them, she
heard the name of Larry Deane men
tioned. She immediately began to in
vestigate and she found that he was
her brother. Larry was soon called,
amd they told him the story of his life
just as they had told Delores. No one
has ever been any more surprised or
happier than they were. They spent
the remainder of the evening getting
acquainted, and they finally departed
with the agreement that they would
Yes, son, I can still remember the
day the nurse brought you in and
laid you in my arms. That was the
happiest moment of my life. I had
something to live for. Your father’s
words are still in my ears when he
said you were going to be just “a chip
off the old block.” My, was he proud
of you! He passed cigars out for two
weeks after your birth.
Yes, son, I have just been looking
through our picture album. What a
darling you were at the age of two
years, although you were such a mis
chievous boy. If you were not in the
cookie jar, you were fighting Sammy,
your playmate.
Then came school days. My, how
you begged me not to send you, but
later you took a different attitude. I
think it all began when you were
elected president of your class. You
entered high school and then college.
There were dances and football games
and other social activities. Ail the
time you were growing into a young
man and I into a sweet age of life.
Yes, son, she was beautiful. I can
see why you loved her. Her blue eyes
and golden hair told me that she was
meant for only you.
Happiness lingered over our family,
but something told me that happiness
could not last forever. Fate had
planned differently. You were called
for service; your country needed you.
My, were we proud to say, “that’s my
son,” although there were a million
others like you. Today I received a
telegram which read as follows; “We
I'egret to inform you that your son
v,?as killed in action while performing
the duties of his country.”
American Realism
—Helen Crow
Many boys have given up their work
and have had to quit school and go to
war. They did not exactly want to,
but they felt it their duty. They
are now working hard all day and
sometimes all night, but they continue
doing their duty away from home, but
are we doing our duty here at home?
You will probably say yes without
thinking. Let’s think about it and see
if we are doing our duty.
First: They are looking to us to
keep on going to school and to keep
up the morals of the people at home.
Are we doing this? Do we stay out
just because of a headache? Are we
always on time for school and work?
Are we trying to make good grades?
Do we try to skip class, or do we stay
in class and study as we should?
Well, can you say you are doing
this? Are you going to school every
day, are you always on time, do you
try to make good grades, and do you
stay in class? Then if you are doing
this first step, you are doing part of
your duty. If you are not doing this,
you have failed in your first step.
Second: Are you willing to work aft
er school or during the summer in the
mills so as to help keep up produc
tion? This is our duty because the
visit or write one another once a week.
Immediately upon her arrival home
a message was sent to Dennis telling
of the strange things that had hap
pened. Dennis started packing soon
after he received the message and
w'ent to see Delores after his arrival
home.
They were married the next day in
the neighborhood church, and after
wards they went to his father’s house
to make their future home.
Larry visited Delores quite frequent
ly and with each visit they grew to
love one another more and more. But
it was not the love with which one
loves a sweetheart or a husband. No,
it was merely that thing called “broth
erly love.” Dennis forgave Delores
for the incident between her and
Larry, and they promised one another
that they would never let anything
stand in their way again.
Poet’s Corner
ENDING MEANS
BEGINNING
—Tommy Thomason
The time is drawing near,
As we realize, our teachers dear;
That it won’t be very long
Until we sing our Alma Mater song.
Tough was the road and long the time.
But pleasant was the school bells’
chime;
Moments were dull and moments were
gay.
But after all we have reached this day.
We are thinking now of tomorrow’s
woe.
And with chin up, chest out we’ll go
To attack this inhuman strain.
Quieting and conquering the people’s
pain.
We have quite a job to do
Making this old world into new;
But along the way we’ll wear a smile.
And try to make our time worth while.
Leaving now the school behind.
We’ll start a job of another kind;
In life we’ll move to another part,
And we start with a courageous heart.
JUST WONDERING
—Addie Mae Leonard
I’m just wondering if he ever thinks
of me.
As he strolls through his classes so
bold and free.
At times he seems rather quiet and
..iUe,
And I just wonder if he’s thinking of
her, too.
Sometimes he seems so far away
In his actions and what he has to say.
Then other times he’s so nice to me.
That makes me wonder; don’t you see?
Every day I fear that he won’t be here.
For then the day will be dark and
drear.
And w'hen I see him the cloud shows
the sun.
For I know what’s in store; just loads
of fun.
I know I’ll miss him when graduation
is here.
Some will be happy, but it’s the day
I fear.
But I’ll be proud of him some day
When he’s helping our country in Un
cle Sam’s way.
So I’m just wondering if he’ll think
of me
When our school days are over and
no more he’ll see
Me walking in the halls so happy and
gay.
Thinking of him in a calm, quiet way.
boys have left, and we must take their
jobs until they are back home. If we
are willing to work in them, then we
are doing our second duty. If we are
not willing to go to work, then we are
not doing our duty.
Third, (and the greatest): Do we
pray for the boys every day or every
night? If we expect the boys to come
home or expect America to win this
v/ar, we must always remember to
pray for the boys and America every
day. This is our duty, and it is our
greatest duty. It is a duty that every
one should do. It is a duty that no
one should be ashamed of, but we
should be proud of this duty. We
should be proud of this duty because
it is the duty that will win this war.
Are we doing this duty? If we are
not, then now is the time for us to re
solve that we will do this duty from
now on. We are idealists, but Amer
icans, in time of war, must also be
realists.
WORTH FIGHTING FOR
—Austin Frye
In this land of ours we know nothing
of war.
But only of what we have heard.
Wfe know what this country is fighting
for.
Or else democracy isn’t a word.
Democracy means something in every
one’s eyes.
At least to my way of thinking.
And in the souls and hearts of our
own allies,
A chain for invasion is linking.
And as our men stride forth to meet
their foe.
To us, they may be father or brother.
But, anything to make the enemy em
pire grow.
The count would make another.
But we know we have to take into
consideration
We aren’t the only country at war.
We are only another nation.
But America’s worth fighting for.
What the outcome will be ,no one can
determine.
So, with God we’ll let the matter rest;
And whether it’s our soldier, or the
Japs or the Germans,
His decision will be for the best.
NIGHT AND DAY
—Hazel Jenkins
While moonlight dances across the
bay.
And twinkling stars came out to play,
And lights came on in every window,
The night came on in all her splendor.
The night, to the murderer, was the
time to kill.
To the thief, it was the time to steal.
The playboy’s night was filled with
women and song;
While the children of God slept and
did no wrong.
As the sun came, to chase away night.
Birds awoke and began to take flight.
Across the river came a gentle breeze
That blew the dew drops from off the
trees.
To the honest man the day meant
hard labor and work.
To the crook it meant lying and shirk.
God said that the night was for sleep
and rest.
Is it not proven then, who loves Him
best?
VIOLETS
—Ruth Harwell
We bring the fragrant violets.
Great masses—single, sweet.
Wood-violets, stream-violets,
'Violets from a wet, damp marsh.
Violets in clumps from hills.
With earth clinging to the roots,
Violets tugged from gray rocks.
Blue violets, moss, river-violets.
We saw the hyacinth-violet.
Sweet, smooth, cool to the touch—
And violets whiter than
The rushing, in-coming surf.
Blue violets as of the celestial blue.
Plucked among green blades of grass.
Deep-purple, bird-foot violets
Still moist with dew perfume the air.