Newspapers / Rocky Mount High School … / Nov. 25, 1958, edition 1 / Page 2
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PAGE TWO (tttE BLACKBDM). EOCKT MODNf SEIflOR HIGH SCHOOL TUESI>AT, NOTEMBEB 25, 1958 By REGINA HARLES "And thank you most of all for my mommy and daddy and brother and sisters” was the conclusion of my seven-year old brother’s prayer the night before Thanksgiving last year. In his prayer, childish, but so very sincere, he included thanks for food, clothing, and" shelter. He asked God to bless all of his friends and relatives, his teacher, his pets, and even the Russians, “because they must be good ‘way deep down if You made them.” After listening to his prayer of Thanksgiving, I went to my own room and thought a great deal. How sweet hiS prayer was! How unselfish! He asked for continued happiness, not for himself, but for everyone “in the whole wide world.” He thanked God first for all the things he was so fortunate in having, then asked God’s blessing for all liis friends, and happi ness for them all. What a wonderful order, not only for a child’s prayer, but for anyone’s! Much can be learned from a child. The prayer of a small boy began to make me really think about what 1 had to be thankful for: food, clothing, shelter, friends, happiness—r these, and so many more things! I am thankful for beauty. How wonderful God was to give us such a gift! There is beauty everywhere, when it is looked for. In his prayer, my brother thanked God for “everything pretty.” Children do see beauty—perhaps even more than adults, v, Everyone these days tend to ask for a little more than they give thanks for—IS THIS RIGHT? When I questioned him about this, my brother said he didn’t think so—that “God doesn’t want us to pray this way, and we shouldn’t want anything that He doesn’t want.” Yes, my small brother is thankful—and he taught me to become more thankful. For this, I offer my thanks. Dead Meu Do Tell Tales By HEKB ALLRED “No, sir, never been sick in my life except for a little cold now and then.” “Shucks, I’ve got more sense than to get TB. Besides, TB has been stamped out for ages.” -Tliat’s what Tom Jones said. lie died a year later o£ . . . you guessed it . . . tuberculosis. There are thousands who think exactly as Tom thought and will probably die as he did. TB is not stamped out. Only after months of rest, medica tion, and probably surgery is a patient released. Even then he is not cured as patients who have measles or mumps are. The germs are merely isolated in a small section of the lung. Tom also didn’t know that TB is still killing more Ameri cans. than all other infectious diseases combined. Don’t be like Tom! By getting yearly chest X-rays and physical check-ups, and buying' Christmas seals, some day TB will be stamped out. Editor's Note; The above is the J)rize winning editorial in the an nual contest co-sponsored by the National Tuberculosis Association and the Oolumbia Scholastic Pi-esd Association. lit is sponosored on tiie local level by the Rocicy Mount Tuberculosis Chapter and the jouranllsm class. You Can’t Win || Right to Vote For SO Officers Important Privilege of Student It's Still a Great Life • By HERB Everyday it’s the same old rou tine! Up in tbe morning tO; the vi brating oi: Mother’s shaicing you like a nervous chiropractor. You wake up at tlie breakfast table to find that you have put your shoes on the wrong feet. You’re late for school and your suspicious homeroom teacher charges you with playing hook ey (or smoking without a permit, etc. etc. etc.) In French class you accidentally Ben Blackbird Sez 3Taii. fihoiild open his mouth and liis pocketbook oantiously. ALLRED , (in your poor PYench) call the teacher and “ugly clod” and she gives you an “E” on French and a “5” on courtesy. * ■ ’ By the time chemistry period rolls around, you’re pretty well shot. You spill burning phosphorus on the floor and try to wash it off with hydrochloric acid. The dinner ibell sounds. You poke your head out the door. Oops! Too far! You’re puUed imder and you gasp for Ibreath as flying hooves kick your teeith around the hall. At last it’s through, and so are you! “Boy, are you a mess?” you say to yourself, peeling your flat body off the floor. The bell ringis and you trudge to Algebra II where you fail a test and contemplate hari-kari, sliced wrists, or cyanide. After school, you head home ward, beaten, discouraged, dis owned by the world, but thinking, “It’s a great life!” As I burn the midnight oil, I cannot help but think. How lovely it will be into my ibed to gink. But alas, for it is hopeless. For studying must be done; So I cram my brain until I isee the rays of morning sun. So I stagger off to school that day, And try to stifle ya’wning; >Cut I just can’t get accustomed to this studying af'da-wning. jrhat evening I stumble- home. And oncB again it begins; . iBut I have found in trying ; to do homew^ork, it’s simple; you can’t win. Editor’s Note: This poem was selected from a poetry unit in Miss Alma Murchison’s Crea tive Writing CIa.ss. One of the most importantl privileges of a student is the right to vote for student organization officei’s according to the dictates of his own conscience. Hand-in-hand with each privilege comes responsibility and duty—responsibility not only to his school but also to himself. It is his duty to live up to the coiifidence placed in his good judgment and mirrored in his right to vote. Although many Senior High students registered last year, very few remembered that it wi& their responsibility as well as their right to vote for the candidates of their choice. These stu dents knew that this-, the right to vote,' belonged to them and a few’tSaTizM its jiiiport’auce; yet many forgot their responsi bility as a student'in return for voting power.' In the days of'ouf'gjrandparent'sV sluflent.organizaQpii was" a-vague, dai-k'cutUue.-lolt in obscurity, l>ut as the^^^ngls of a growing nation bee^e morfe liberal, ^ ■the-^liefe^|:.*^nning the schools became more elastic. To(fey students enjoy what might be called a ‘‘little world within a world.” The one thing that keeps this “little world” in orbit is .the student when he exercises his right to vote. Should this source of energy, the vote,- be suddenly and completely severed, his “little world” would- collapse around him. . , Voting is the very essence of school organization. It is the way in which the students may assure themselves that their school orgaiiizatioh is run the w^ay they want it. 'The Band Plays On Shiny instruments, talented musicians, pert majorettes and bars of fine music flowing through the air are all that could be ^sked of a high school band. Senior High'band fits this description to a T . Though small in size, it is enormous in spirit. Pans have snoAvn that in their eyes this band of stout hearts measures up to that of any other school. During the football season familiar strains of “Hail to the Varsity” broke out in herald of a touchdown, lifting spirits as well as voices high. The majorettes, in all their sparkling glory helped to add the finishing touches to this attractive scene. Coming events for the band are rather far off; neverless the members are kept busy. They are working to master the music they w’ill play in the Christmas parade. In the spring they will give a concert. Preparation for this takes time and xyork. Mr. Harold Parry, the director, and his band deserve con gratulations for making “The Band Play On.” THE BLACKBIRD Rocky Mount Senior High Member of the Columbia Scholastic Pross Association editor SUSIE STREET Advertising Miuiaffer CaroljTi Jficliols Business Manager Judy Smith Circulation 3Ianager Regina Ilarles ADVISOR MRS. T. D. YOUya
Rocky Mount High School Student Newspaper
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Nov. 25, 1958, edition 1
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