PAGE TWO
THE CLARION
APRIL 15, I960
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‘‘In spring, a livelier iris changes on the burnished
dove;
In spring, a young man’s fancy lightly turns to thoughts
of love.”
For Lo—The Winter Is Past
It is now the time when warm sun, fragrant flowers,
and dewy green grass push back the curtain of snow, ice,
arid dreary cold in a season of the new life and re-birth.
Yes, it is truly the time when the soul is resurrected in
springtime, for it is Easter and the earth and her faith are
bom again.
Early Sunday morning, the hills and the mountains
where we live and study will resound with the cry, “Alle-
lulia, Christ is risen!” And the sound will echo and re-echo
through sunrise services and communions all over the
world, and the very earth will cry, “Truly, Christ is risen.”
Not far away, in the Moravian settlement near Wins
ton Salem, hundreds of people will be newly resurrected
in faith as they view the empty cross freed of its passionate
burden and symbolizing, in great simplicity and elegance,
the real meaning of the Easter season.
Farther away, in the majestic beauty of the Sistine
Chapel, thousands of visitors from the far countries of the
world will come to take part in the high pontifical mass of
the Roman Catholic Church in the Vatican City. In eloquent
words of ecclesiastical Latin, the Pope and his hierarchy
will praise the risen Lord and re-enact the scene of the Last
Sufpper.
Farther still away, in Russia, these spiritually op
pressed people will, nevertheless, celebrate Easter—the
Greek Orthodox, in public; and the Protestant, in private.
But the meaning is the same ; and the purpose, unfailing.
And so it is Easter—in the big churcl],and small, in the
mountains and on the plain, in free land and fettered,
people the world over will worship the risen Lord in this
season of springtime and re-birth. “For lo, the winter is
past,” and spring has come again. Let us humble ourselves
in the view of the empty cross and be re-bom in the beauty
of our faith and the freshness of this season—spring.
IIMIM Ullllllllllll IMIIIMIM HI II ■ III Ml I tl III I Ml 11111111| 111111111IIIII0
i THE CLARION STAFF ‘
PRESS
I Editor-in-Chief Judith McManus
I Associate EditM- Vandalyn Brown
I Business Manager Chuck Rimer
I Assistant Business Manager Wayne Byrd
i Sports Editor Bin gearson
I Photographer BiU Bumigardner
I Exchange Editor Eric Greene i
Cartoonist Kent Dorsey i
i Reprters Edna Grimes, Sarah Lowdermilk, Becky \
Sigmon, and Don Walser \
E'"'"" iiiiiMiiiiiiiiiiiliiiiiiiniiiMiiiiii,
Like man—.ain’t you got no ear for passionate beauty!
Are You Without Prejudice?
A large North Carolina newspa'per recently announced
the names of the co-captains of the tennis team at North
Carolina State College. The announcement was given wide
spread attention because one of the students, Irwin Holmes,
became the first Negro to be so honored in the ACC. Holmes
was chosen by his teammates in a secret ballot. They were
showing their respect for his playing ability and for him as
a person.
On the same day, in another part of the paper, the
results of a poll concerning lunch counter integration were
published. The results were given according to groups—
sex and age. Three questions were asked in this poll, the
first one a preliminary one to determine if the persons being
asked the questions patronized the lunch counters with
white people.
Do these examples not show that we, today’s fact
facing generation, can be deipended on to make unpreju
diced, unbiased decisions according to our own sense of
values? Do they not prove that we can look beyond the
color of a man’s skin and see his real abilities and worth?
In the world of 1960 and 1970 and 1980, it is impera
tive that we think for ourselves. We cannot afford to be
narrow-minded and prejudiced, for these will be draw
backs to world peace before we even get beyond our own
country. We must decide what things are important and act
on that decision, courageously and intelligently.
SPRING HAS SPRUNG-LOOK
AROUND YOU AND SEE IT
Spring . . . Just a season? Some
would answer, “Yes. A special sea
son, mayibe, but only a season.”
Others would answer softly with
shining eyes, “No. It is not just a
season. It is more—much more.” To
each of these persons it is some
thing different. It is a feeling, a
softness in the air, a glow in the
heart. It is a mixture in a young
girl of joy, impatience, and hope It
IS a fountain of youth for an old
man and a cloak of sophistication
for a teen-age boy.
^ It is the day-time song of birds
and the night-time “song” of crick
ets. It is a young boy in long blue-
jeans walking barefoot on new
sweet-smelling grass. It is the smell
of freshly4urned earth and the
farmer surveying his fields It is the
crack of a bat against a ball and the
cries of players drifting up from a
baseball field.
It is the culmination of long,
dreary expectation that at times
faltered, but always hoped. It is a
choking sensation in the throat, and
an urge to run and laugh. It is
holding hands, and making new
Iriends, and smiling more often.
It is new life and new hope. It is
discovery. It is happiness and, at
times, an unexplainable misery. It
is a remem'berance of times past
and an anticipation of things to
come and, at the same time, an ac
ceptance of the present. It is a
poignant sweetness and an inde
scribably loveliness.
Just a season? To some, yes. To
the young in heart it is the true
meaning of life.