The Clinton chronicle. (Clinton, S.C.) 1901-current, December 21, 1950, Image 21
Thursday, December 21, 1950
THE CLINTON CHRONICLE
Page Five
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By Nancy Plyler
•PHE SMALL BOY pressed his face
* closer to the window. Outside
the snow lay a white blanket over
, community, and darkness had
' ' 1 awn its curtain upon the day’s
activities. Johnny had been stand
ing there since dinner. '
His mother and father sat near
by. “He hardly touched his din
ner!” his mother explained.
“It’s too bad! He was very fond
of that dog,” his father said serious
ly.
“I’m so sorry this happened. It’s
just two weeks until Christmas and
there’s so much to do. Scouring
the neighborhood for the dog at
this time will interfere with our
other plans,” the mother said.
While they were talking, the door
bell rang. The wife went to answer
it and found two teen-age boys on
the porch.
“Yes?” the wife questioned.
The boys seemed to be out of
breath from running. “Mrs. Rice,
we saw two men take your dog into
“Did Santa Clans send him
back to me, Mommy?” was all
he asked.
♦
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their car. They drove away with
him,” one of the boys explained.
"What? When?” the wife was
beside herself.
“About two hours ago. We were
taking the groceries to tya. Jane;
we couldn't turn back to tell you.
Besides the car was gone before
we knew what had happened. I
think we’d know them it we saw
them again,” the boys finished.
“Don, will you come here?” Mrs.
Rice called to her husband. “Now,
will you please tell my husband
what you have just told me?” she
turned to the boys.
They reiterated the same facts to
Mr. Porter.
His first statement was, “Don’t
say anything about this to Johnny.”
He questioned the boys further,
thought for a time, then asked the
boys if they would agree to go
around the neighborhood with him
to see if he could trace the men.
Agreeing to this, the two boys
left with Mr. Porter.
lUTRS. PORTER was sitting in the
living-room when Mr. Porter
returned. Her eyes questioned what
her lips could not say.
“No luck!” he sunk into a chair.
“I didn’t really think there would
be any use to go out and look for
them. There Just wasn’t anything
else to do. Poor kid! With Christ
mas coming on and everything,”
Mr. Porter was very solemn.
On Christmas morning Mrs.
Porter was up very early. The
Christmas tree was trimmed to
perfection. The wreaths were hung.
The living-room was very pictures
que. Johnny’s stocking was hung
over the mantle; it was brimming to
the top. All kTrras of toys that would
delight the heart of a five-year-old
boy were under the tree. His
mother took one last look before
she called to her husband to awak
en Johnny..
A sleepy, tousled-haired boy crept
down the steps to behold the won
ders of another Christmas day. Aft-
ter viewing the scene, he gave one
leap to the hobby-horse thait waited
for him. By now he was no longer
sleepy, but had mustered energy to
open all his gifts without any help
from his parents.
And for a time Johnny seemed so
engrossed in the many toys that he
never mentioned about his dog. But
their hopes were short-lived! For
while they were planning for the
day, they noticed that Johnny was
watching at the window. Mr. and
Mrs. Porter looked at each other
and knew that they had lost in their
endeavor to make Christmas Day a
happy time for their boy.
When Mrs. Porter was nearly on
the verge of tears, Johnny gave one
scream from the window. They ran
to it and looking out, saw a small
white dog scurrying up the path.
Mr. Porter never opened a door
more gleefully and the dog dashed
into the room, into the arms of his
master. Johnny was laughing and
crying at the same time. “Did Santa
Claus send him bade to me, Mom
my?” was all be asked.
**Yes, dear," aha whispered.
‘The dog either broke away; or,
the spirit of Christmas must have
worked la those men's hearts,” Mrs.
Porter smiled to bar husband.
'The Night Before
Christmas"
By GEORGE MATTHEWS ADAMS
The Author of Today’s Talk
The beauty and spirit of Christ
mas should never fade from our
hearts. The memories of our child
hood keep it green, so that each new
celebration increasingly endears each
earlier event. Christmas, however,
must forever remain as childhood’s
happiest experience. It’s their day.
How jpyous those anxious, toddling
feet that wend their way to dream
land on Christmas Eve! A thousand
pictures are in those throbbing
hearts, and wonderings about Santa
Claus, with his merry laugh—a most
illusive fellow—but the dreamed-of
idol of every child.
And so the event takes form. Ex
citement. Anticipation. Sleepless
hours, for every child’s imagination
is stirred, stimulated, and set on
edge. Graphicly did Clement Clarke
Moore write of this supreme event
in his classic “A Visit From St. Nich
olas’’ that should be read to or by
every child. So also should that beau
tiful editorial, written by a New York
Sun writer, to “Virginia,” telling her
that there was a Santa Claus. My
favorite Christmas reading is that
beautiful esSSty by Alexander Smith
in his book “Dreamthorp,” piibli&hed
first in 1863 but, happily, recently
republished in a delightful little vol
ume by the Peter Pauper Press.
But back to the children. It’s their
great day. And ours, too, if we can
but distill our spirit into that of a
little child, as Christ admonished
when he said: “Unless you become
as a little child.” It was the event of
Christ’s birth that initiated this hap
piest of all events. Out from that
humble birthplace spread the glad
tidings of “Peace on earth and good
will to men.”
It is heartening to note at each
Christmas time crowds with happy
faces, teeming into the stores with
the thought of others primarily on
their minds. With the thrill of hap
piness for others dominating all their
movements and expenditures. Would
that every day might be a Christmas
day!
Many have been the celebrations
down the road of history, but no\
event ever initiated has held the
heart of human beings as has the
celebration of Christmas, in which
the happiness of childhood is the
dominating note. Christmas is the
selfless day of all the year—“the pro
test of the human race against
gloom.”
The gleam of light from the star
that led the worshipers to the man
ger of the Christ child, is evidenced
anew in millions of human hearts at
this Christmas time. The hope of the
world is that that gleam may not
die out, shadowed as it is by so many
clouds of fear. The spirit of Christ
mas alone, if carried into every day
of the year, could happily dispel all
these douds.
Call 74
FOR OFFICE SUPPLIES
Santa Claus,
Indiana, Has
Big Season
Santa Claus, Ind., Dec. 16—It
Jooks like a busier season than ever
"before in this gingerbread village in
the Southern Indiana hills.
Children by the thousands and let
ters by the millions started coming
in right after Thanksgiving.
The letter requests aren’t always
easy to filL Patrick Ballard, 7, of
Leigh-on-Sea, Essex, England, writ
ing his thanks for a kitten last Christ
mas asked: “Could you manage a
two-wheel bike or a yacht this year?”
Last year Santa’s deputy, Jim Yel-
lig, got 90,000 letters to Santa ans
wered; this year his task may run
to 100,000. When the letters come in
a foreign language the Benedictine
monks at the nearby St. Meinard ab
bey translate them.
Postmaster Elbert S. Reinke is ex
pecting 4,000,000 pieces of mail al
together this year—most of them sent
here to get the Santa Claus postmark.
Dr. Fred E. Holcombe
Office Hears i:M to 5:34
200 South Broad St.
OPTOMETRIST
Offices at
Phone 658
§£{)«
SilHTMSS
TO OUR MAVY
GOOD FRIENDS
AND NEIGHBORS
OF THIS FINE
COMMUNITY
Ladies’ Ready-to-Wear Shoppe
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