LETTERS TO THE EDITOR—
(From Page 3)
January 14, 1961
Dear Editor;
Montreat-Anderson College is a college
filled with little kids. Every month the
paper staff has the problem of trying to
make the paper interesting for “children”.
Many good articles are discarded because
the students of Montreat don’t want ser
ious, soul-searching articles.
Montreat is a haven, but it is to be used
as a place to become mature without the
many petty problems faced otherwise. The
students are given an opportunity to face
many problems and to think deeply about
issues that are usually ignored. Children
accept their parents’ ideas and don’t think
for themselves. This is understandable;
but when students of a college continue
to be “vegetables” and suck up other
peoples’ ideas and opinions, it is a dis
grace and something to be ashamed of,
both by the students and the college.
Grow up! Think for yourself and be
come mature college students; otherwise,
do not say that you are a college student.
This article is short so perhaps the
“children” won’t have to strain to read it.
B. H.
SINGERS GO SOUTH—
(From Page 3)
Church. At 8:00 p.m. on February 1, they
will be at the First Presbyterian Church
in Plant City, Florida; February 2 it’s on
to beautiful Miami, where many of our fine
students live. At 8:00 p.m. that night they
will sing in the Miami Springs Presbyter
ian Church. They had better get a good
night’s sleep that night because on the
next day, February 3, you have three per
formances to make. At 11:00 a.m. our
singers will, YES, be on Channel 10 tele
vision in Miami, then at 1:50 p.m. they
will be at the Miami Christian School, and
at 8:00 p.m. at the Le Jeune Presbyterian
Church in Miami. On February 4 for a
rest they will only have one performance.
The Church College
I like colleges that nestle
In quiet little towns
And seem to offer something more
Than credits, caps, and growns.
I like classes filled with friends
Who have a smile for me;
I don’t like profs who know me as
Row 31 Seat 3.
I hate to meet a former prof’s
Unrecognized stare;
I like the kind who knows your name
Your hopes, your love affair.
I like Church-college profs who teach
Likewise, inspired crusaders;
Who take the time to read your themes
And don’t hire student graders.
I like colleges which strive to learn,
Years later, where you are;
Yes even tho’ you’ve never been
A campus queen or star.
A mammoth institution holds
Within its office space,
Along with proof of my degree
A photo of my face.
The most it knows about me is
My city, birth and class.
I like my old Church-college best;
She doesn’t think en masse.
She’ll gaily cheer each grad’s career
With faith that’s optimistic;
To her a former student is
No musty old statistic.
—Helen Ruhenbrod
that is at 8:00 p.m. at the Shenandoah
Presbyterian Church in Miami. The next
day, February 5, is another three perform
ance one, first at 11:00 a.m. they will ap
pear at the Miami Shores Presbyterian
Church; at 3:30 p.m. at vespers service
at this same church; then at 8:00 p.m. they
will be at the City of North Miami Cele
bration. I’he next day, February 6, com
ing back home from the tour, they will
sing their swan song in the Arlington Pres
byterian Church of Jacksonville, Florida.
I’m sure all of the fortunate members
of the singers who get to go will have a
glorious time, and that all their hosts and
hostesses will be wonderful, knowing those
hospitable people of the great South Land.
Good-by and we will be looking forward
to your return.
The Price of Happiness
Wliat exactly is this thing called hap
piness? Where can it be found, and what
is the price of it? These are questions
I am sure each of us has asked ourselves
thousands of times. Happiness is a state
of mind. It can be found in doing that
little something e.xtra for someone—a kind
word of warmth to the person who looks
downhearted or a piece of candy for the
child who has tried very hard. Happiness
can be found in success, when it is really
deserved. Happiness can really be found
anywhere. It can not be bought with dol
lars and cents, it is absolutely free. Why
don’t you take a little, for a Uttle can
go a long, long way.
—Jean Hadley
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