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QUEENS BLUES
December 14, 1940
m
QUEENS BLUES Queen's Credo
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Christmas
In The Modern Age Finds A
Strange and Different World
We are living in a noisy age. Silence, like
a frightened bird, has left her nest and joined the
dove of peace in exile. The songs of birds,
even actual ones, have no chance against the din
in which man wreathes this world. Across the
sea it is a horrible noise, the kind that chokes
the laughter in a man s throat and drives him
mad. Sound has even been made a weapon of
war, and we read of bombs which hurtle through
cold, black night air. Tlien there is the less spec
tacular but more subtle rumble of sullen
guns in the distance, growling like some
vast prehistoric beast crawling over the curve
of the waste places of the earth. You can almost
hear it over here. Stand some quiet night and
watch the moon rise, realizing that a few hours
before that same gentle moon was whitening
the faces of black corpses still unburied on battle
fields; was smoothing as if with age the jagged
lines of shell-shattered buildings; was washing
with silver the black wings of planes bent on
destruction, swooping like loathesome carrion
birds gorged with vileness and death; was'by i^
whiteness making even more red the stabbing
flashes of bombs far below. Stand—and watch
—'and listen. See if you do not hear, the growl
of that great beast three thousand miles away,
like the dull mutter of distant thunder in the
middle of sultry summer nights.
Then, if you can, let your mind go back two
thousand years, back to another scene which
that same moon gazed down upon. But this
time the world is quiet, and a great star shines
over a sleepy little village in Palestine. Far off,
on the moon-whitened desert, tense figures, eyes
fixed on the star, move silently with awe and
wonder. In the center of the tiny village lying
under the white radiance of the star is an humble
stable, in which, watched by the soft, wondering
eyes of gentle cattle, a young virgin sits, smiling
into the face of a baby on her lap. A tall,
rugged man stands nearby, leaning on a staff.
On the silent desert outside the village, wise men
search, lurching on the backs of plodding camels.
How ‘undramatic is this second scene com
pared with the first. And yet the events of that
ancient night, when the star shone, established
the divine, irrevocable course which alone can
meet and utterly destroy the great beast of the
second scene. The events of these nights are
inhuman and degrading. The event of that night
was incredibly wonderful. Gotl himself deigned
to take on the form of his creatures.
But if Europe has devised one way of forget
ting the fundamental message of Christmas,
America has been no less inventive. The only,
but very important, difference is that our method
is pleasant and is to be condemned only because
of the final results, not the method itself. As
I came up the streets tonight, lights blazed.
Sets Forth New High Goals
And Standards To Achieve
We, the students of Queens College, realizing
our responsibility in the development of our
school, wish to exert every effort to further the
interests of our Alma Mater. We are proud to
be known as Queens girls, because we believe
the name indicates the highest type of Christian
womanhood; we believe in the ideals and prin-
■ ciples for which Queens stands. Intangible
values are hard to define; yet we can see integ
rity, tolerance, culture, and intelligence clearly
presented to us by the lives of our admini
stration and faculty. We have the utmost faith
in the administration as a result of the many
improvements it has accomplished and the in
spiration with which it stimulates the student
body to a desire for greater service. We hare
observed a real honor system in operation. We
have seen school loyalty manifested both by pres
ent students and by alumnae.
We wish to share in every future experience
of our college, thereby exemplifying the faith
we have -iA our Alma Mater. We realize that we
shall some day be no longer classified as stu
dents, but as graduates of Queens. Graduation
from our college will mean, for us, that we have
completed only one phase of a relationship
which will become more vital with the passing
of time. We shall carry her ideals with us into
community life and there contribute the strength
of our character to the foundation of the future
homes of America. We intend to be active
alumnae, constantly contributing our best to the
establishment of our college in its rightful place
among the educational centers of the world. With
justifiable hope and trust, we look forward to the
day when we shall point with pride to a greater
Queens College—a real seat of learning which
encourages those who would know the truth un
blemished by petty prejudices.
When we think of the future in store for our
coHege, we are happy for her prospective students.
We would show them that Queens ranks high
in the minds of present-day educators in its ful
fillment of the educational ideal—that of develop
ing all the potentialities of’ the students. We
shall dedicate our strength and our abilities to
this end: that Queens will emerge as a bulwark
of education, producing Christian personalities
equipped with the ability to make the world a
better place because they have lived. /■
On every side there was gay laughter, and
in the tinselled windows articles of every de
scription were displayed with neat price tags,
unobtrusive but inevitable, tokening the com
mercialism of Christmas. Obese Santa Clauses
grinned and bobbed, all very jovial and hearty
but somehow, when one stops to think, ludicrously
out of tune with the true meaning of this season.
But, you say, Christmas is a joyous season.
And you are right—the most joyous of the entire
year, and should be. But it should be so for
the right reason. If the hilarity and gaiety of
these weeks were based on a deep-hearted reali-
%
zation of the true meaning of Christmas, further
comment would be unnecessary. But we all know
thaf this is not the case. The festivity of Christ
mas is not the natural result of the significance
of the season, but the end in itself. We can not see
beyond the electric lights over our head to the
white radiance of that star of two thousand
years ago.
Let us resolve that on this coming Christmas
day we will vary the routine and take at least
a few moments aside. Let us in imagination join
the wondering shepherds and the worshiping
Magi and kneel before him who was born King
of the Jews. Let us, remembering the mirac
ulous conception, worship the babe as “Im-
manuel” God with us: Let us bow reverently be
fore Jesus, who yet lives, sitting on the right
liand of God, who has promised never to forsake
us in life, and in death to stand as our Advocate
before the throne of G(^.
Ceremony Of Boards
Head Traditional
Custom Started Centuries
Ago at Oxford University
By ALBERTA SETZER
In merrie old England, in wild and
picturesque days, abundant with
feudal hospitalities and baronial cas
tles, Christmas was a period of de
lightful and gay excitement. In the
great houses of the time it was cus
tomary to begin the Christmas' feast
ing by the solemn ceremony of bring
ing in the boar’s head as the initial
dish. The smoking head was gar
landed, and the master-cook, preced
ed by musicians and followed by
huntsmen with boar-spears and drawn
falchions, brought in the great plat
ter and placed it at the head of the
table. The custom, however, goes
back to pre-Christian days and is
connected with the Druids who killed
a boar at the winter solstice and of
fered its head in sacrifice to Freya,
the goddess of peace and plenty.
Queen’s College, Oxford, is espe
cially famous for its retention of the
ancient ceremonial, A local legend
explains this ceremony. Some five
hundred years ago, so runs the story,
an Oxford student deeply bent upon
his volume of Aristotle was wander
ing near Shotover Hill when he was
attacked by a wild boar. By way
of defense, he shoved his book down
the animal’s throat and choked the
beast to death. And so, wholly in
merriment and gay with jolly pre
tense, the festival is perpetuated at
Oxford.
How fitting it seems that we, bear
ing the honored name of Queens
College, should also have this same
ceremonial to begin our Christmas
;elebration.
(^ampuA Clfwksi
She’s tall, slender, and has a quaint
hair-do; she plays the fiddle and sings;
she’s tops among the freshmen; and
she goes in for brunettes. Guessed
yet? Why, it’s Franny Moseley, of
course.
Franny likes just oodles of things
all the way from people in general
on down to peanut butter and ice
cream. She even likes her two sis
ters “at times”; and if you’ve ever
heard them sing, you’ll agree that
they certainly do seem to get along
just swell when they’re harmonizing.
In music Franny takes Brahms, De
bussy, and, of course, Glenn Miller.
Her pet dislikes are onions, cauli
flower, getting up in the morning, and
washing dishes. If she can get out
of it, she never wears a hat; but she
dotes on wearing evening clothes and
goes in for cute shoes in a big way.
At Central Hi, Franny was vice-
president of the junior clafts, assist
ant chief marshal, and a prominent
member of the dramatic group. Here
at Queens she is chairman of the
freshman class, a Chi O pledge, and a
member of the orchestra, the quartet,
and the quintet. And she says that
she’s really having fun.
1. If you had a box of ducks, what
would you have? A box of quackers.
2. Why do little ducks walk softly?
’Cause they can’t walk, hardly.
It is Christmas again. Christmas
is the time of singing, of joy, of
worship. Christmas is also the time
of giving, and the time of peace-
perhaps not peace from strife, but
the peace which passes; understand
ing and ever lingers in the heart.
Singing time . . . “And suddenly
there was with the angel a multi
tude of the heavenly host, praising
God and saying, ‘Glory to God in
the highest’ ”... It is Christmas in
Congo land. Dinanga awakens in the
smoky interior of the small mud-and-
stick hut. Excitement stirs her, for
it is Christmas morning, and she is
going caroling. Quickly arranging
her clothes, she hurries toward the
mission compound. The stars shine
brightly; the silhouettes of wind-
rustled palms are barely visible. A
sense of anticipation fills the air. The
singers meet with the simple greet
ing “Muoya!”—“Life to you!” There
are whispering hushes as the leader
raises the song. A translation of
“Silent Night” throbs into the beauty
of the hour before dawn. Carol fol
lows carol.
Joy time . . . “Fear not, for be
hold I bring you good tidings of
great joy.” . . . Crimson stains the
east, and with its tropic splendor the
sun bursts into the sky. Joyous black
faces smile at one another. Bare
black feet part ways as the party
of carolers return to their homes.
Dinanga helps fix breakfast for the
family; then she and her mother go
down the trail to carry back buckets
of water, balanced on their heads.
Worship time . . . “They fell down
and worshipped Him.” . . . The peal
ing church bell proclaims the hour of
Christmas worship. With hasty set
tling of babies on hips, or clutching of
gifts they wish to bring, Dinanga and
others hasten to the church. Rever
ently they enter, join in the Christ
mas hymns, and bow in prayer.
Giving time . . . “When they had
opened their treasures, they pre
sented unto Him gifts.” . . . The
Christmas story is told, as eager
hearts drink it in. The Christmas
offering is then made. Small sums of
money, long and carefully hoarded,
are placed in the rude wooden offer
ing plate. A boy leads a goat to the
front, and Dinanga puts in some ears
of corn as her gift.
Peace time . . . “And on earth
peace, goodwill toward men.” The
rest of Christmas day slips away,
while Dinanga helps her mother, cares
for the children, and visits her
friends. Supper is cooked and eaten.
The sun sets. It is night. Villagers
gather about outdoor fires to sing and
chat. The death wail rises in a
heathen home across the village. Din
anga thoughtfully pauses before en
tering the home hut. Her heathen
acquaintances do not realize it is
Christmas. She raises her face to
the sky and breathes a prayer of
gratitude for the Gift of Gifts, of
hope that others may learn to know
Him. As she steps inside, peace fills
her heart.