There’s no better tonic, if
you're fearful of the
uncertainties in this decidedly
troubled world, than a stroll by
the nearest elementary school
at recess time.
It’s comforting to note that
kids still romp like kids have,
we presume, since Cain and
Abel were younguns. Little
boys, brimming with energy
somewhat spiced with mischief,
wrestle each other to the
. ground, scramble for a ball
tossed in the air, or rush hither
and yonder in the sheer ecstacy
of aimlessness.
As for the little girls, they are
less demonstrative for the most
part. On occasion they do forget
themselves sufriciently to rough
it up with the opposite sex in a
game of lag or prisoner’s base.
And even as their mothers
before them, they forsake
gentleness when they indulge in
that venerable pastime, sling
biscuit.
All adults, we’re inclined to
think, need to observe just such
doings periodically. We need to
recognize that, despite man’s
inhumanity to man and the
decline of much that is worth
preserving, the most wonderful
things are changeless, in
keeping with the immutable
laws of God.
Evil, dread and suspicion are
rampant in the world, it is true,
but these destructive forces
have always plagued mankind.
Dismal though the thought of it
may be, there is reason to
believe they will remain to
disconcert us as long as mortals
dwell on this earthly sphere.
But on the brighter side, we
will continue to have love, faith,
courage and compassion. And
with these precious gifts
implanted in the human heart,
we will have myriad blessings
all about us. We may not
appreciate them, or utilize them
for the common good, but they
are ours to have and share.
Nature’s way of doing things
is changeless, the stars in the
sky are changeless, and the
hush of dawn is changeless. And
like we said at the outset, little
boys and little girls romping on
a school green are changeless.
Which makes us hopeful for
tomorrow, and thankful for
today.
++++++
Whenever it falls our lot to
make an allegedly humorous
speech, at an out of town
gathering, this is usually (me of
the stories we can count on for
laughs.
Slightly more than 40 years
ago. believe it or not, it was our
distinction to be the soloist for
the New Bern High school glee
club. It just does to show you
how limited the available talent
was in those days.
Anyhow, one night there was
a concert, at the Masonic
Theatre. Our own high spot in
the performance was supposed .
to be when we. sang “Among My
Souvenirs’’ with the rest of the
glee club providing harmony
background.
As the solo concluded, there
was a little pause of silence,
which always happens to a
singer or an actor before kin
folks start the applause that
others contribute to, eagerly pr
•' '(cbnUnued ort Page 8)\*.
Nput S?nt-(!Iranfn Oloutttn ?itbUt ITtbrani
The N£W BERN
ional hihrary
PUBLISHED WEEKLY
IN THE HEART OP
EASTERN NORTH
OUtOLINA
400 Johnson
ITe'-' :iern
3t.
2C660
f Per Copy
VOLUME 13
NEW BERN, N. C., FRIDAY, DECEMBER 11, 1970
NUMBER 39
UP THERE—Seven years old Dale M- Stroud, Jr.,
and his five year old brother David of 305 Camelia
Road, go through a routine familiar in all New Bern
homes where Santa Claus is eagerly anticipated.
You’re really old, and failing in memory, if you
can’t too recall how you used to gaze up the
chimney, and wonder now anyone as plump as St.
Nick could descend with a big bag of toys. He
manages to do it, however, every Christmas eve,
making glad the hearts of trusting children and
world over. Rowena Stroud, mother of the two
youngsters, snapped the scene. She is a
photographer at wray’s Studio, operated by their
proud grandma, Eunice Wray.
I t 11111111111111111111,11111,111111,,, ,111,1,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, ,, , 1111 , ,
•' 11111111111111111111111 11111111111.1.. 1. 111,,, 11,, 11.11,