Brilliant Star/Volume 18/Issue 3/Text

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volume 18 number 3

rilliant Star:

july-august 1986

Kalimat Words ¢ Kamal Perfection ¢ Asma’ Names 143

Dear Children,

How do you know it’s time to go to bed, or that autumn is coming, or that your baby brother or sister might be born soon? If you can answer any of those questions, you already know something about what this issue is about-— life cycles. Everything in the universe, and the universe itself, has a rhythm. Everything has a kind of clockworks inside that is just as important as the springs, wheels and gears inside a grandfather clock that moves it forward. Seeing cycles and patterns in God’s world is an exciting challenge.

We know from the Bahai teachings that there are also spiritual rhythms. Even God's religions have a cycle and seasons. Each of us has spiritual rhythms, too, to which we need to set the clocks of our souls. Some of God’s laws help us do that so that we will be in harmony with the great symphony of His universe. We pray and read the Writings every day, we fast once a year and we have the Feast and give to the Fund once every nineteen days. These are some of the spiritual rhythms that feed our souls and bring us in step with God’s wishes for us.

Both men and women must work together to bring humankind into the rhythm of God’s music In a great orchestra, if one section of the orchestra doesn‘ play well, the music will not be beautiful. So it is, too, with people. If

women and men both dont learn to play their parts well, the song of peace and unity will falter and fail.

As you think about life cycles, we also ask you to think about how the equality of men and women can help bring peace to the world. Let us hear your song of peace!

toe oun Edd Ive

PS. Dont forget that when you see the dove logo, it means that what you are reading may be helpful as you observe the U.N. International Year of Peace.

About the cover

Photography by Bob Harris

Brilliant Star is a publication of the National Spiritual Assembly of the Bahaiis of the United States. It is published six times each year, in January, March, May, July, September and November. Copyright © 1986 National Spiritual Assembly of the Bahaiis of the United States. World rights reserved.

Address manuscripts and other editorial contributions to Brilliant Star/Bley, Suburban Office Park, 5010 Austin Rd., Hixson, Tn. 37343. Manuscripts should be typewritten and double-spaced throughout. Brilliant Star does not offer monetary compensation to its contributors. Return postage should be included if manuscript is to be returned. Single copy $2.50; 6 issues (one year) $12.00; 12 issues (two years) $23.00; foreign, surface mail, one year $15.00, two years $28.00; foreign, air mail, one year $25.00, two years $47.50. An index for the preceding year's issues is available for $2.00. For subscriptions, change of address and adjustments write to Brilliant Star Subscriber Service, Suburban Office Park, 5010 Austin Rd., Hixson, Tn. 37343. All other correspondence should be addressed to Brilliant Star/Richards, 4 Village Dr, Yardville, N.J. 08620. Printed in the U.S.A.

ISSN 0884-3635

Brilliant Star is intended for children of all ages and

strives to:

e develop the child's awareness of the oneness of humanity

e increase the child's conscious awareness of his spiritual nature and the need for its development

e develop the child's reasoning power and stimulate his love for the order of the universe

e provide a standard by which the child may learn to relate to others with love and justice

e assist parents and teachers in developing all of the child’s hidden talents and virtues

Brilliant Star Editorial Board

Deborah Bley Editor-in-Chief

Mary K. Radpour Editorial Consultant

Mimi McClellan Music Editor

Rita Leydon Art Director Production

Janet Richards Secretary/Manager

Keith Boehme Consultant

Subscriber

Service

Ruth Donaldson Linda Hendrickson [Page 1]

whats inside

Letters From Our Friends

Good Morning, Caiti and Curt!

a picture story by Bobbie Lee S. Kolehouse

The Adventures of Dewey

a story by

James Nelson

4

7

Life Cycles How is a tree like a religion? Sue Blythe shows us.

10

1Z

Woman, You Are

the Key to Peace Deborah Bley tells us about Sojourner Truth and Harriet Tubman, Téhirih, Elizabeth Cady Stanton and Eleanor Roosevelt.

Red Cross 18 Bloodmobile, Here Today

a photo essay by Rita Leydon

Two Goodbyes 22 a story by Chris McNett ar)

Song of the Months

here’s a great way to learn the Bahai months, by Jack Lenz

A Little Prayer 26

for Alexis Conroy by Roger White

All About Speedy, 28 the Ringsnake by Millie Ann Guillot-Blakely

By Heart 30

Emily’s Baby 31

by Susan Engle

Book Nook

Parents’ Page

[Page 2]by Kate, age 5

Letters from our friends

Our Bahai friends in Lesotho sent us some drawings that they did. Quinn and his sister Kate are from Mafeteng, and their friend Liphaphang (say Dee-papawng) lives in Butha Buthe.

The children of Bangkok, Thailand have

become actors and producers! They put on the

play “World Order Wizards” (from Brilliant Star, May/June 1983), and the audience really enjoyed their show.

Christopher Wilson of Red Deer, Alberta, Canada drew this when he was six and one half. What a beautiful House of Worship! He tells us “I like getting the magazines—they’re just great!” [Page 3]

Several years ago, we did a photo story about a girl and her horse. That girl was named Jennifer Campbell. When her horse died, she wrote to us and shared her feelings and some photos of herself with him:

How do you lose a horse... and other feelings.

You'd think that an animal as big As a horse would be hard to lose. But this loss was something That I did not choose.

A big Arabian, named Khemo Sazar, As big as life.

Would you believe his loss Would cause so much strife? Sometimes I feel that this Has all been a dream.

You know, when things aren’t Really as they seem.

I have two other horses, And an Indian pony,

And with all the work How could I get lonely?

But ’Zar was my special friend; We went through a lot together, Lots of work and play,

In all kinds of weather. Sometimes I wonder,

How can you lose a horse? Through death, of course.

When "Zar died, I felt his loss most deeply. I know my parents and friends wondered when Id snap out of it. I did too...I felt as though I never wanted to see the corral again, ever! Time has a way of healing all things. ’m me again. I’m back with my horses and pony .... still miss Khemo Sazar, and dream of him occasionally, but now he is a fond memory...

Krispin Leydon’s class in Lahaska, Pennsylvania, worked hard thinking about peace. Here are some of the things these thirdgraders shared:

From Erin Nightingale: Peace is love. Peace is loving. Peace is helping. Peace is caring. I choose peace.

Here is a drawing and some ideas from Sean Mount and Daniel Holton-Roth:

The best is Peace, Peace, Peace.

Peace is invincible.

Peace will guard the earth.

Peace is not weapons or war.

Peace is a dove. The best is Peace, Peace, Peace. .

Jeanne Marie Miller is five and lives in Ocala, Florida.

She drew this

happy person.

Finally, here’s someone who really wants a penpal!

Dear Brilliant Star,

How are you? I’m fine. My name is April Lynn Holmes. I need a pen pal. I like to collect stickers, read good books, play instruments, and many other things. I’m 11 years old and in the sixth grade. My address is:

April Holmes 43 Union S.E. Grand Rapids, MI 49503

I really need a pen pal.

A desperate writer, 3 April Holmes [Page 4]urt!

by Bobbie Lee S. Kolehouse

ee as Taylor v

Dawn glows in the eastern sky. Its soft shell pinks are laced with warm yellow-golds. It is hushed now in the

n a little farm at the edge of the woods lives a newborn set of twin barn where Caiti and Curt sleep.

baby goat kids. Their names are Caiti and Curt.

The only sounds are those of the mother goats chewing their cuds.

The rosy morning sun climbs in the Caitiis a baby girl kid. Curtisababy sky and brings a new day to the boy kid. They are sister and brother countryside. The sounds in the barn

and are very young. Caiti sleeps with her delicate head cradled in

Curt’s fuzzy white neck while he rests 4 his tiny nose against her shoulder.

change. Breakfast and milking time is near! The goats strain their ears to hear the farmer’s footsteps crunch

on the gravel walkway. [Page 5]

The farmer is kind to his goats and is careful to provide grain, sweet hay and fresh water for them. The goats love him and show their love by making many gallons of frothy milk for the farmer’s family. Oh, the pails they fill for their friends!

Here comes the farmer! The barn door swings open letting the morning sun rush into its dusky interior. Inside the barn, the air is sweet with the warm summer smell of fresh clover hay.

Caiti and Curt are hungry. Because they are babies, they don’t know what it means to be patient. They want to eat and, looking for food, they bump and nudge one another.

Caiti and Curt hear the farmer milking the mother goats. The streams of milk sing a steady song as they tap the sides of the milkpail. Wooshwish, woosh-wish. The milksong comforts the babes and they doze while they wait to eat.

please turn the page

D [Page 6]

Full pails of milk make the farmer There is plenty for the new babies! happy and he smiles and pats each goat Wake up babies! It is time for your for her delicious milk. He will take bottles of warm milk to make you their milk to feed his family. Some of strong and healthy. it will be for drinking,with the rest of it becoming cheese, yogurt, butter and ice cream! But what about the babies? What about Caiti and Curt?

But for now Caiti and Curt will eat, The babies finish eating and with "sleep and grow. They will explore and little round bellies full of milk, they wonder as they watch tiny spiders nestle together and fall asleep. Babies weave webs of fairy silk. They will need lots of sleep to grow. In time listen enchanted to the wren’s lilting they will learn to be patient and song. For now the kids will play in well-behaved. They will grow to be the grassy field, sleep in the warm useful as are their parents. sunshine and be happy. [Page 7]ewey was certain

that he would never see the light of day again. He was being shaken and stirred ina pitch-dark vat of syrupy stuff that kept grabbing at him and pulling away parts of his orange jewel coating. “Why did I ever have to leave the ocean?” asked Dewey, but no one answered and he knew that the other drops around him were just as homesick as he.

Soon it began to get

very hot around Dewey in the vat, and it was apparent that someone had started to heat the sticky liquid. In fact, it soon became so hot that several drops near the top of the vat were boiled loose from the syrup and had begun to dance about looking for a way to escape. “We're loose!” Dewey heard one of them shout. “Now let’s show them what a little steam pressure can do!” With that,millions of other drops jumped free of the stuff boiling in the vat, and together, they all began to push. They pushed up and down and out until the tightly covered vat began to bulge with the pressure within. Dewey, who was too far down toward the bottom to jump free, felt as though he were

tom, se

by James Nelson

of Adventu Dewe

reprinted from September/October 1970 Child’s Way

illustrated by Gary Heise

being squeezed of all life. He struggled to keep himself together and as he struggled, he noticed that he was changing from one mixture into another. He was being pulled away from the sticky orange goo and absorbed by a fresh new liquid, light and smooth.

All at once a valve was opened at the top of the vat. The water droplets at the top hissed wildly in their joy as they

escaped up the tube into the air. The liquid that remained was being led through a dark pipe to another place. Then in an instant, it was Dewey’s turn to be drawn into the pipe. He noticed that the sticky stuff from which he had been taken did not run through the pipe at all, but stayed behind in the bottom of the vat. He also noticed

as he ran along the pipe please turn the page

res

[Page 8]

that he was being cooled almost as much as when he had turned to ice in the pond. But even though he was very, very cold he did not even start to harden. It

felt very strange.

When the ride through the pipe ended, Dewey was startled by bright light all about him. He and his companions had been deposited in a glass cell, quite small in size, but from which it was possible to see clearly. “Where in the world are we?” asked Dewey of his identical neighbors.

But none of them knew, or if they did, they didn't answer. And so, Dewey did not know, even when they pasted a label on his small prison which read: “PERFUME

mo

ORANGE BLOSSOM.”

So it was that Dewey was prepared to serve the human kingdom. It was to be his finest experience. He had already served as home to the fish, as servant of the trees, and now he could become a part of the life of man.

But even if Dewey had known all this, he would gladly have given it up if only he could be granted his greatest wish —to become once again a part of that great sea from which he had come.

By this time, travel was nothing new to Dewey. He had flown through the sky on the back of a duck. He had been carried through the mysterious roots and veins of the orange tree.

He had moved in the

basket of the blossompicker and he had swum through the pipes of the perfume factory. But never before had travel been so delightful as it was now. He sat, snug and secure, inside his glass bottle being sent from one place to another all across Europe. Finally, he came to a most elegant spot. He was surrounded by crystal containers, each containing a liquid substance of a different glowing color. He had come to the perfume department of a famous department store.

Each morning Dewey would look out from his comfortable glass house and notice the ladies as they passed the [Page 9]counter where he waited to be selected. Oh, how he longed to be picked to accompany one of them as they went into the great human world. He didn’t have to wait long.

One afternoon, just as the store was about to close, he was swept off the shelf with a rush, quickly wrapped in stout paper, much too thick to see through, and plunged into a bouncing handbag being carried out of the store. As the pace of his buyer grew faster, he thought he heard her say something about being late for the boat.

Sure enough, the next day, there he was sitting on top of a cabinet ina cabin aboard a large ship now far at sea. Through a porthole Dewey could see the ocean swell. He could hear the rush of the water as it turned to foam under the ship. He was almost home. Dewey throbbed with sadness that he should be so close to his place of birth and not be able to get back to it.

It was here that a tiny piece of paper came into Dewey’s life and changed it entirely.

Later that evening there was to be a ball aboard the ship and all the ladies were dressing

in their finest clothes. Naturally, Dewey’s new owner would wear a dash of the fine perfume in which Dewey had his home. But as she went to apply the perfume, some motion of the ship moved her hand and instead of being brushed upon her forehead, Dewey was splashed instead upon the table.

Now, a table is nota very safe place for perfume drops to rest, and if it hadn’t been for the piece of paper, Dewey might have just dried up. But the lady moved quickly and took this paper from her bag and wiped Dewey from the table.

It was not very pleasant, of course, for Dewey to be imprisoned in the paper and he struggled to get free. He would not have struggled so hard had he known that this paper was soon to carry him home. For at that moment, the door to the lady’s cabin was opened and a rush of air came through. The paper with which Dewey was wrestling was only a half-foot away from the porthole through which Dewey had watched — the ocean roll by.

The blast of air through the door picked up the piece of paper and

whisked it, light as a feather, out the porthole. In an instant Dewey had come home.

Later, as he talked to me from his leafy perch, Dewey explained how the whole cycle of life had begun again. Just as he had once come from the clouds and dropped into the pond, so now he had dropped from other clouds which had taken him from the sea. And there he was upon my lawn.

I really wanted very much to keep him and talk with him more of his adventures, but Dewey was very certain that he should be on his way to more exciting adventure, so, I asked him if he would like to be carried back to the sea.

“No thank you,” answered Dewey. “Now that I know what the life of a water droplet is supposed to be, I want to serve everywhere I can before I go home again.” And so, I put him back upon the dampened lawn just as I had found him. And that’s the last I have seen of Dewey, although sometimes I think I hear his calling. The next time it rains, listen carefully, and look around. I’m sure hed love to talk with you, too. [Page 10]10

seed is planted in the ground.

Heme (es =k

he seed sends a

root down into the ground and tender green leaves sprout upward.

he small plant begins to look like a tree.

prophet brings a message from God to mankind.

few believers

hear the message and know that it is from God.

he followers of

the Prophet teach others of their faith and are persecuted for their beliefs. [Page 11]ofatree &

of a religion

| olay OT = 1h UT = photographs by Rita Leydon * 1986

he tree matures and blooms with sweet-smelling flowers.

he tree drops Its seeds, year after year.

ad

x ieee. z 2

a ie tree withers and dies with age, but has caused new young trees to grow near it.

he teachings of the

Prophet become accepted, causing great progress In civilization.

2 past dispensations, people's ideas of what the Prophet meant caused disagreement and disunity,

he message from

God no longer serves to unify mankind. The time comes for a new

Prophet. 1 1 [Page 12]

LD

12

oman, you are the key to peace When your voice 1s heard,

All war will cease.

YOU are an equal In His sight.

You bring warmth and compassion to this life Humanity is like a bird:

Both wings must be strong. x Stand where you belong so we can fly...

by Deborah L. Bley

n the middle of the 1800’s, we know

that a new spirit swept across the world with the coming of the Bab and Baha’u'llah. It was as though our planet had been reborn and people were moved to live out the teachings of God’s new Messengers — even if they had never heard of Baha’u’llah or the Bab!

Women had not begun to have equal rights with men before the late 1800’s. But as early as the middle of the last century, women felt stirrings in their souls to arise to work for peace and justice. They gave of themselves

in many ways: to help free the slaves, to bring about fair treatment for women, to care for the sick and the needy of the world, and to speak

for peace.

The women’s movement for equal rights in the United States grew out of their stand against slavery. On the other side of the world, a heroine of the Babi Faith sang a clear song for the freedom of all women as she proclaimed the Bab’s message. Here are profiles of just a few women who have served all people by working for peace and fairness for all the citizens of the world.

From the song “Woman, You are the Key to Peace’? words and music by Mary Davis, which appears o on 1 the

Used with permission [Page 13]

and Lr

Among the most courageous fighters for freedom of the slaves and for women’s rights were two black women who could not read or write, and who had been slaves themselves: Sojourner Truth and Harriet Tubman.

Sojourner Truth was freed from slavery in 1827, when New York state passed an act that made slavery in that state against the law. From that time she lived up to the name of Sojourner that she took for herself, going from place to place speaking with power and wisdom against slavery. Her sayings were copied down and published and gave hope to many slaves who were still not free. Her speeches also pricked the consciences of many people and caused them to join the fight for the freedom of the slaves.

As she worked for abolishing slavery, Sojourner Truth also helped people see that all women needed to have rights equal to the rights

Ssgjourner Truth

Ni

early leader in the womens rights movement. Harriet Tubman was raised as a slave in Maryland. Even as a child she fought against being a slave and was treated cruelly by her master for being so outspoken. In 1849, she made a daring escape from her master’s farm. She traveled by night through woods and back roads to freedom in Pennsylvania. She then made her life’s work helping other slaves escape to the North to be free. She became a “conductor” on the Underground Railroad. This was a network of houses and hiding places where people who knew

Hh afl

of men. She became an *

lel Tuloman

slavery was wrong would help slaves who had

run away get to the North to freedom.

Harriet Tubman was known as “Moses” and that name filled people with courage as they traveled the dangerous road from the South to the North. She made many trips back into the South, putting herself in danger, to bring out over three hundred men, women and children. Slave-owners offered a reward of $40,000 to whomever might catch her. But she was never caught, and she never lost a “passenger”. Harriet Tubman was a symbol of brave dedication to human rights.

<a

i wr” r

13

illustrated by Keith Kresge [Page 14]

Tanirin

14

Mn

Tahirih was a rare woman in Persia. She was from a family of learned men and priests and was well-known as one of the finest poets in all of Persia. Although she never met the Bab, Tahirih knew that the Bab was a Manifestation of God by reading His teachings. He named her one of the “Letters of the Living”, the first

eighteen believers to find the Bab on their own. In June of 1848, an important conference was happening in the village of Badasht. Babis had gathered there with Baha’u'llah, Qudduts, and Téahirih to discuss plans for the progress of the Bab’s faith. Tahirih had a clear understanding that the Bab was a new Teacher from God with a new Message for a new day. At the conference of Badasht, the Babis were called upon to obey the laws that the Bab had brought and to give up the laws of Islam that did not agree with this new religion. What a hard test for some of these early believers! But not for Tahirih, who had a keen spiritual eye and understood that the new laws of the Bab were for a new society. In a dramatic act, Tahirih appeared before the men at the conference without the veil that all women wore over their clothes and which covered them from head to toe. To defy the tradition of the veil was the most shocking thing that a woman could

possibly do, especially for a woman so admired for her purity and modesty as Tahirih. Some men were horrified, others angry, and some left the conference. But Tahirih’s act showed that there could be no turning back. She was the trumpet blast that signaled a new age, and helped declare that the Bab’s religion was not only a fulfillment of Islam, but was distinct from Islam.

In 1852, when many Babis were being arrested and giving their lives for their belief in the Bab, Tahirih was also arrested. One night, she knew that her death would come soon. She dressed up as a bride would in her most beautiful dress. She perfumed herself and waited for the men to come to take her to the place where she was to be put to death.

They came and took her to the [khani garden. Before she was strangled, Tahirih proclaimed, “You can kill me as soon as you like, but you cannot stop the emancipation of women.” = [Page 15]

Fizooe in Cady stanion

Young Elizabeth Cady sat quietly in her father’s law office, reading his law books. “Here's another silly law that’s not fair to women,’ she said to herself, and put a mark next to it in the book.

Elizabeth had seen women come and go in her father’s office. As she heard their sad stories, she was shocked to learn that women had no rights under the law, especially if they were married. A woman could not own property, and even if her husband was a scoundrel, he had all the protection of the law! The lack of choice and power for these women troubled young Elizabeth deeply and she vowed to do something about it.

As she grew up, she proved herself a quick and eager learner. Sometimes her father would sigh, “You should have been a boy...” As a young woman, Elizabeth met a man who was active in the anti-slavery movement, Henry Stanton. They married and she devoted herself to his cause.

They traveled to London and here some thing happened that changed her life.

At the anti-slavery meeting in London, Elizabeth realized that there were two groups working to outlaw slavery. In one group women had a more active part. Although this was not her husband’s group, Elizabeth found herself drawn to that group, and to a Quaker woman named Lucretia Mott. Mrs. Mott spoke about the need for women’s rights as well as the need for ending slavery. The old fire for women’s rights was kindled in Elizabeth again.

Upon returning to the U.S., Elizabeth and Mrs. Mott stayed in touch by mail. Elizabeth began to raise a family and this kept her very busy.

eres husband decided to run for the New York State Legislature, Elizabeth was upset to think that she did not even have the right to vote for him! This was the time to do something.

She wrote to Mrs. Mott, who came to visit, and in July of 1848—just a few weeks after Tahirih had removed her veil at the conference of Badasht— Mrs. Mott and Elizabeth held a meeting in Elizabeth’s small hometown of Seneca Falls, New York. They had announced the meeting in the local paper, saying:

please turn the page

15 [Page 16]“Women’s Rights Convention—A convention to discuss the social, civil and religious condition and rights of women will be held in the Wesleyan Chapel...”

They wondered if anyone would come. The day arrived and over three hundred people came! They were mostly women and many came up to Elizabeth afterwards with tears in their

eyes to say that Elizabeth and Mrs. Mott had spoken words that they had held in their hearts for so long.

Elizabeth spent the rest of her long life writing, speaking and traveling for the cause of women's rights. She met ridicule with a firm resolve that the equality of men and women would come about. Her work with others in the women's movement, including her

close friend Susan B. Anthony, helped move our country toward the decision that women should indeed have the right to vote in national elections. Elizabeth Cady Stanton’s courage and energy in speaking out for women gave her a special place in history as one who made a difference in helping

to protect and promote the rights of people everywhere. Hf

Feanor ROOSsSe Vel

16

Born to a wealthy family in 1884, Eleanor Roosevelt grew up to be one of the best-known and most loved women of our century. Although her family was rich and powerful, Eleanor was a timid and shy girl. She saw herself as clumsy and plain, not pretty like her mother. It was not until after she went to England at fifteen to go to school that she made friends her own age and began to overcome her shyness.

When she came back to the United States, she met a distant cousin at [Page 17]a dance. His name was Franklin Roosevelt. He saw her beautiful spirit and they came to love each other and married.

Franklin Roosevelt became a state senator in New York and later worked for the Navy. Eleanor was very busy as the wife of this state senator, and as mother of five children.

Then something sad happened: Franklin caught an illness called polio and it left his legs very weak; he could not walk. Eleanor helped him get as strong as he could and watched him work hard to learn to use the leg braces that supported his legs as his own weak muscles no longer could do. Now she and Franklin had to decide how he would spend the rest of his life.

Eleanor urged him to go back to serving the public through politics. She knew that she would have to go where Franklin could not. She would have to be his legs. She learned to do many things she had been too timid to do before: she gave speeches, she learned to drive a car, and ~ she traveled everywhere. Franklin Roosevelt was elected governor of New York and later President of the United States.

Eleanor was to be the First Lady!

With her children now grown, Eleanor helped Franklin in an important way. She went out to see what people around the country needed, and what they were thinking. She would come back from her trips and tell Franklin, and he would then start trying to work on making things better for the people of our country. Eleanor visited schools, hospitals and prisons. During the Great Depression, when many people had no jobs and were hungry, she helped in soup kitchens. She taught at a school for poor children and even helped run a factory for jobless men. She met people of all races and backgrounds, rich and poor. She was a gracious lady who could make everyone feel special. Once, when the king and queen of England were visiting, Eleanor took them on a picnic and served them hot dogs and potato chips so they would know what a real American picnic was like!

When World War II came, Eleanor traveled to Europe and the Pacific to visit the wounded soldiers. When she came back to the U.S., she would telephone each

man’s family to give them news of their son or husband.

In 1944, Franklin's health became poorer and he died. Eleanor went back to their country home, but soon she had another big and important job to do. After the war was over in 1945, the nations of the world wanted very much to keep the peace so that nothing as horrible as that war would ever happen again. The winners and the losers of the war all needed help in re-building their countries. Eleanor was assigned to the team from the United States that helped to found the United Nations. She served for six years, working for peace, freedom and justice. She is remembered especially for helping to write a very important paper called the Declaration of Human Rights.

Eleanor Roosevelt treated all the people of the world as if they were her own children. The shy, awkward girl had become a speaker and writer, a First Lady, and a tireless worker for all people in need. She showed everyone what one woman’ caring could do to help change the world. @

i [Page 18]

arneisa first Emme blood

donor. She is nervous. A Red Cross volunteer answers her questions.

ie

é ew

E HERE TODAY

»

TUl\very J H, donor

has to answer questions about his or her health. After that, the donor’s temperature is taken, blood pressure is recorded and the ear is pricked for

a few blood drops. These drops show if there is enough iron in the blood. Marne’s blood is good.

18 [Page 19]

acl

Le your pick.”

The nurse selects an arm, disinfects it,

and inserts the needle into Marne’ vein. t takes a while to fill the pouch. Kerry has Her blood flows freely into a plastic pouch. been very patient with her mother.

A=

please turn the page [Page 20]20

his is Marne’s gift: her pint of blood. Life saving blood.

Marne elevates her punctured arm and puts pressure on the needle mark so it won't bleed. Then, a little dazed and not sure how she feels, she’s allowed to sit up.

A volunteer escorts her to the recovery area.

[Page 21]very donor has to stay

here for about twenty minutes. Drink some juice, eat a pretzel and talk a bit.

Marne feels great! Ina couple of months she can give blood again.

Share this article with your parents, ask them to donate their blood too. It can save someone's life. Giving blood makes you feel very good.

[Page 22]22

Note to our readers and their parents: We were moved by the care and respect which this story gives to the subject of death. Because this story concerns a subject both difficult and painful, it may require a maturity which our younger readers do not yet have For all our readers, whether parents, teachers, or children, this story offers an opportunity for sharing fears and comfort;

thus, we recommend discussing it together.

Two

Goodbyes

I cried when GT. died.

“GT” was short for Growl-Tiger. He went back to way before I grew too old to cry—in fact, he was older than me. He had not done much lately. He liked to follow the sun through the house. Most mornings, he lay in a bright spot on my bed; around lunchtime, he dozed in the kitchen window; and in the afternoons he usually slept in a sunbeam on the living room rug. Then one night this spring when I came home from ball practice,I found him still on my pillow. When I picked him up,his legs stuck out stiff, and he was cold.

We buried him under a pear tree he had once loved to climb. “He had a good, long life,’ said Dad. “He was a hundred and twelve.’ I knew people Say one year in a cat’s life is equal to seven

by Chris McNett

human years. G-T. had been sixteen.

“Would you like to say a prayer, Tommy?” asked Mother.

I found one in her prayer book, but it asked God to forgive the sins of those who had departed. I did not think GT. was guilty of any sins. He killed birds when he was young, but that was just his instinct.

Mother read some words by ’Abdu’l-Baha: “A love you have for anyone will not be forgotten in the Kingdom.”

I thought of the Kingdom — Heaven — Paradise—and of everything I had heard about it. The Kingdom, I knew, is where our spirits will go when we die, but it is not a place. It is past anything we can imagine —too bright and shiny and fine. I felt sure that when I got there I would meet my grandfather, who had died before I was born. There would be no sickness, no fighting or hurt or

“I don’t know, replied Mother.

I did not know the answer myself, but I knew that loving GT. would not be forgotten.

That made me feel better. -2

“Tommy!” Adam Miller called as I walked back x to the house.

I answered, “Yeah,” bending over to tie my left shoe and to make sure I had no tears left.

“My mom went back in the hospital;’ Adam said.

The Millers live across the street. Adam and his sister had been eating breakfast and catching the school bus with me when their mother was in the hospital. That had been most of the time lately.

I had not seen Mrs. Miller much since she got sick, but she was our den leader year before last—the year we earned our Wolf Scout badges and made kites. Mrs. Miller had helped us spread out newspaper and plastic and giftwrap in her basement, with string and hobby-store sticks and green switches. We made circle kites and box kites and dragontailed kites. They all flew.

. Mrs. Miller stayed in “<< the hospital all this

To

a:

bone of WANEE::....680. 90% spring. Adam said she was getting treatments that made her hair fall out. He played at my house most afternoons. We were building a fort, chasing his sister away when she came to bug us. One day I mentioned, “When school lets out, Mom and Dad are taking me to Eight Miles’ Thrills.” That is a park that has the fastest roller-coaster in

the world.”

I was going to ask, “Want to come?” but Adam said, “Be quiet, dodo.’ I kicked him, just a light kick. He knocked me down so hard I scraped my nose and both knees. Before I got up he was out of sight.

“Some friend!” I said while Mother put peroxide on my knees, and a drop on my nose.

“Adam must feel very

ad

“Ouch!” I cried, because the peroxide stung.

“Tommy,” Mother continued, “the doctors don't think Mrs. Miller will get well.”

“What does that mean?” I asked. She did not say anything. “She'll die?” I guessed. Mother nodded.

I could not make sense of that. The only people I had known who died were very old. I thought of Adam's father, a quiet, worried-looking man. The Millers’ house seemed too quiet. I remembered how noisy it had been when we had the den meetings. I wondered how I might

feel doing homework and please turn the page

23 [Page 24]24

going to bed in such a quiet house. Would the quiet make me feel like yelling and hitting?

I got over being mad at Adam, but he did not come back. School let out the next week. He and his sister were sent to stay with their grandparents in another town. I did not see Adam until a month later, at the funeral home, after Mrs. Miller died.

Mother had us wear dark colors. Dad reminded me to be quiet there. “Why are people sad at funerals?” I asked on the way.

“It’s sad to lose someone” “But Baha’u’llah said death is a ‘messenger of

joy: You told me Mrs. Miller was very sick, and in pain. She's happy now.’ I thought of kites. I could not picture the Kingdom, but when I tried, I thought about running from one shiny cloud to another, flying kites—all kinds of kites in rainbow colors, where the wind was always right and there were no trees to snag them.

In the funeral home I saw several neighbors and strangers. Mother and Dad talked quietly with Adams father. I saw Adam’s sister crying. Then I spotted Adam ina suit and tie, sitting

between his grandparents, his face like

a wooden soldier. I knew I was supposed to tell him I was sorry, but I did not know how.

There were heaps of flowers in the front of the room, around a large dark wooden box. I had never seen a casket before. We walked closer, and I saw Mrs. Miller. I wished I had stayed home. The times Mrs. Miller had come back from the hospital, she had looked very pale and tired. Now she had pink cheeks, and perfect hair. She looked too neat, like a mannequin in a store.

I remembered Mrs. Miller catching fly-balls when we played three to a team, and trying to lead us in a song as her car inched through bumper-to-bumper traffic on our den trip to the zoo. | knew if I touched her, she would be cold. Suddenly I seemed to be shaking all over, and my throat felt as if I had swallowed a live frog. “Let’s leave; I whispered.

“We can't yet; said Dad.

“Then let me wait in the car”

I almost ran outside.

I sat in the car and thought of GT, and of all the people I had seen killed on television, and

of those I had heard were killed in wars and famines and crimes and accidents on the news.

I got out and walked along the top of a wall between the flowerbeds. I thought of Adam and his father and sister sitting down to supper that night, with their house so quiet. What if my mother should die? What if I knew she would never again help me with fractions, pick me up from ball practice,

or even put peroxide on my skinned knees? I would know she had gone to the Kingdom, but that would seem so far away!

I felt tears coming. Just then I heard a voice: “Hey, Tom! How’s the fort?”

Adam was behind me, balancing on the wall.

I squeezed the tears back and answered. “I guess I haven't done any more with it. Want to try?”

“Yeah.”

“I—I’m sorry about your mom, I stammered. “T liked her a lot.”

About a week later, after Adams relatives all went home and his father went back to work, we started building the fort again. His sister has been coming over, too, and now were finishing it together. It’s turning out fine. H [Page 25]SonG of - whi®&

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49

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Lof-ti-ness, Sov-ereign-ty, Do-min-ion and Lof-ti-ness.

29 [Page 26]

A note to the readers of Brilliant Star from Roger White:

A Little Prayer is a poem that tells a true story. In outline, this is what happened: Alexis, who was then seven years old, was showing me how well he could ride his two-wheel bicycle. Seeing my admiring glances, and being a generous boy, he was going to offer to let me ride it, but he thought he had better ask how old I was, in case I fell and hurt myself: Knowing that I was older than he realized, I first told him that I was older than his father. (It is always hard to imagine anyone older than our parents, isn't it? Except maybe our grandparents!) Finally I said that I was more than fifty. Alexis was indeed surprised and silently decided not to let such an old man ride his bicycle But he wanted to comfort me,both because I am old and because he could not bring himself to let me ride his bicycle So he looked at the bright side and told me that being “up there” in the fifties would not seem so bad if I were to think of it as a basketball score The poem ends with a little prayer that Alexis, when he grows up, will continue to be so kind and always find a way to speak the truth without hurting his listener. Perhaps your understanding of the poem will be helped by the marginal notes which give an explanation of some of the words in the poem. @ [Page 27]A Little Prayer

= for Alexis Conroy © by Roger White

How old are you?

It's your concern, not precocity, that puts the question, wide eyes a guileless blue

under your taupe boy bangs.

How to slope the truth that its velocity

not overwhelm your seven years

knowing that | lose the tentative ride

on your first two-wheeler?

precocity ® unusually early

wisdom or intelligence; here

it means that Alexis was not Just showing off, but was truly interested in the answer

guileless © honest, without

deceit

tau De@ « acolor; a light brownish grey

(you straddle it with pride). ; y p velocity e speed

tentative © here it means

possible; not confirmed

Older than your dad. (I haven't lied!

though pangs of disbelief shake your slight frame for no one could be older)

But you are game: HOw old? Bolder, the old man will make the fact | yet tame the fact. more acceptable by finding a Up there in the fifties. (I've winded ee

your credulity. A sum so astronomical! Frightening!

You're dealing with Methuselah!) ;

The offer is silently rescinded. CrECUIITY * capacity to believe Then brightening with resourceful tact you say astronomical (for you will comfort me—did | sound sad?) enormously large

That wouldn't seem so much Methuselan « « bibtical

as a basketball score. figure believed to have lived

more than 900 years; any old man

| yet tame the fact

Alexis, how shall | not adore , . your gift? Hear me whisper now FESCINAEM » withdrawn

(to Someone very Old and Big): DUIGEON « diossom, grow, “May this tender twig develop

burgeon to always speak the good imponderable « anything and leave his listener glad. that is hard to think about Let him ever find in the imponderable a kind perspective and, concealed

in inescapable adversity,

truth’s playful slant diversity.”

5

the

28

all

about

peedy,

Ringsnak

by Millie Ann Guillot-Blakely

H™ you ever wondered what some creatures are good for? Mama says God has a purpose for everything he created. Well, one day I discovered why he made snakes. My little brother, Andy, let out a screech that rattled my eardrums.

I was on my knees, trailing and catching the fastest snake you ever saw.

“Hey, Speedy!” I said, real happy. Speedy was olive green and spotted black. He twisted and hissed and spit at me.

I turned to show him off. But something had happened to Speedy. He lay across the stick I had lifted him with, as limp as a wilted carrot.

“He's dead!” I cried. “Speedy’s dead!”

Mama rushed over and quieted Andy.

“See the baby ringsnake,” she said.

But Andy backed far, far away.

Then Mama turned to me.

“Your little snake’s not dead, Jeremy,” she said. “All of God’s creatures are born with instincts.”

“That’s the same as built-in know-how,’ I told Andy, importantly.

“Spitting, hissing, great speed, and the ability to play dead are the ringsnake’s defense instincts,’ Mama went on. “I’m certain,’ she grinned, “that this little fellow’s playing ’possum.”

Andy edged closer to see what possum was.

Sure enough, Speedy wriggled off the stick. He fell to the ground, zigzagging across Andy’s feet.

“Eeeek!”

“He screamed him away!” I yelled, as Speedy darted into some rocks.

Well, Mama came to our rescue again. Holding Andy, she said, “Snakes don’t hear screams, or any other noises, Jeremy.

They feel sounds through vibrations.”

Hoping that Speedy would return, I tugged a cast-off aquarium from the garage and set it near the rocks. Tipping it on its side, I baited it with raw fish and waited.

About an hour passed...

While we waited, Mama talked. [Page 29]“It’s okay to be afraid of snakes when youre a little boy,’ she said to Andy. “Many grown-ups are afraid of snakes. But most snakes are harmless.”

Suddenly, Andy began to squeal and clap his hands.

There was Speedy. Out of the rocks he came. His keen sight and sharp sense of smell drew him right to the bait.

Carefully, I sat the tank upright.

Speedy rushed to a pile of twigs and grass I had tucked into one corner. Here, he felt safe, and at home.

Mama helped me carry the tank into the house. She placed a lamp near Speedy for warmth and light.

“Baby snakes need fresh water daily,’ she told us. “They also need strips of raw fish or meat once a week.”

Andy hurried to fill a saucer with water. He eased it toward the tank.

“Will he bite?” he asked Mama.

“He might, if he’s frightened,’ she answered.

“What if he does?” Andy kept on.

“Well, since Speedy doesn’t have poisonous venom, the only risk of being bitten by him is a little pain. But it is a fact that some people are even allergic to snake saliva”

“I studied about snakes in school,” I said. “There are only four poisonous snakes in the United States: the rattler, the copperhead, the water mocassin, and the coral snake.”

“Yes, those four snakes are certainly harmful,’ said Mom. “Their poisonous venom affects a person’s nervous system, and can cause death to those bitten if medical care isn’t given quickly.”

Andy had me feeling pretty uneasy about Speedy.

“Give him the water!” I snapped. “Mama’s not gonna let you get hurt.”

With his eyes on Speedy’s every move, Andy finally set the sloshing water on the bottom of the tank.

Speedy raced out of hiding and plunged into the cool water.

“He likes me!” shrilled Andy. “Speedy likes me!”

“Yeah? I said, “But remember, he’s mine!”

“Mine!” said Andy. “I saw him first.”

“Snakes belong to nature. We'll have to let Speedy go.”

“No, Mama!” Andy pleaded. “Please?”

“Can't we keep him?” I asked.

“Speedy will be happier in his natural surroundings, outside!” Mama said firmly. “There he can play in the grass and flowers and sunshine.”

We thought of every excuse to keep Speedy.

“Something will get him in the dark.”

“At night, he'll sleep in hollow logs and rock crevices, safe from his enemies,” said Mama.

“He'll freeze to death in the winter.”

“Snakes hibernate in the winter” Mama said. “That means they curl up and go to sleep until spring”

She even ruled out the best idea of all. We could keep Speedy in the tank, outside.

“Speedy would be awfully cramped, living his nine-year life span in such a small tank,’ said Mama. “Besides, he'll need lots of frogs, lizards, small birds, and rodents to eat.”

“Awh, Speedy couldn’t eat something that big,’ I said.

“What about when he grows to be three feet long, as ringsnakes do?” Mama asked. “Then his jaws will open extra wide and let

him eat very large prey.”

Speaking of eating, I happened to notice the strip of fish I had used to catch Speedy, hung in his throat.

“He's choking!” I yelled at Mama.

Calmly, she explained, “Instead of chewing, snakes digest their food. This means they swallow it until it’s gone.”

Speedy was okay after all.

Mama closed the screened cover and snapped the latch.

“Speedy’s harmless,” she added. “But never handle any snake unless an adult says it’s okay.”

“Even a baby snake,’ I told Andy.

“I know that; he said.

Mama looked at me and winked. In her soft voice she said, “I suppose we could keep Speedy for a little while.”

Andy squealed and I laughed and we both hugged Mama and jumped for joy.

“Mama; I asked, “why did God make snakes?”

“Oh, maybe to make little boys happy,” she said.

29 [Page 30]30

“s By Heart

We know that the Baha? teachings have much to say about women, but here ‘Abdu’l-Bahad says very strongly some words about the special destiny of women in bringing about peace

Ravages means waste or destruction. Blighted means touched by disease, injury or death. Abolition

“War and its ravages have blighted the world; the education of woman willbea mighty step toward its abolition and ending, for she will use her whole influence against war. Woman rears the child

and educates the youth to maturity.

She will refuse to give her sons for sacrifice upon the field of battle. In truth, she will be the Qgtest factor in establish ing universal peace... Assured ly, woman will abolish warfare

among mankind.”

‘Abdu’l- Baha

(from The Promulgation of Universal Peace, p. 108)

calligraphy by Michael Hughey

[Page 31]

Mz. name is Emily. I’m five and a half years old.

My Mom and Dad and I are all excited. Were going to have a baby. I know it’s a girl ‘cause I named her Talia Marie. What I wish is this: I wish there was a window on Mom, right by the baby. Then at night, right after supper, when we usually watch TV. or read Richard Scarry’s Best Story Book Ever, we could just sit by Mom and take a look at Talia Marie, see what she's doing. Mom says she’s only five weeks old so she can’t suck her thumb ‘cause she doesn’t have one. I asked Mom to draw a picture of Talia Marie for me, how she looks right now. Here it is:

Emily’s

Baby

by Susan Ly

She doesn’t look like a person yet, but I know she is. When I talk to her, she knows I’m there. Mom talks to her too. She likes to say a special prayer. The part I like is “O my Lord, I dedicate that which is in my womb unto Thee.” Mom says her womb is Talia Marie's home. I lived there too, before I was born.

Here’s what I wish most: I wish I had some strong glasses like Dad’s. Then when I looked through that window at Talia Marie, maybe I could see her soul. I know she has a beautiful one ‘cause Mom said so.

[ll be glad when she gets her eyes and toes and fingernails and knees and heart. I'll be glad when she lives in my room with me instead of in Mom behind the window that isn’t there. Mom says she'll probably look like this when shesis:born:

A lot like me when I was born.

A whole lot like me, Emily. @

illustrated by Winifred Barnum Newman

31 [Page 32]

Book Nook

~ SONG’

be IN THE

{ROUND —

Song in the Ground

Written and illustrated by Jacqueline Mehrabi, published by George Ronald, Oxford, 1985.

ere is a book that

tells us the story of Bahéa’u'llah and His new message for today. Alan and Emma become friends. Alan is a Baha’i and Emma is a curious little girl who knows in her heart that something exciting is changing the world. Through Alan. and by thinking and praying, Emma begins to figure out what wonderful thing happened that makes the world feel different.

This story is good for children from ages six or seven to about age eleven. A note to parents and teachers: The book offers concrete information about Baha'i history, but also has more abstract illustrations about God, nature, the Manifestations of God, and the power of the teachings of God’s Messengers. Because it is divided into numbered sections 4-6 paragraphs in length, Song in the Ground lends itself well to discussion and exploration of each section.

Enjoy reading and sharing it with someone. & [Page 33]

Reading About Death

Parents

page

by Janet Richards

hen my son was almost

three, we were walking past a cemetery and I told him that under each stone marker a person who had died was buried. A few steps later, he knelt down and started picking up pebbles. When I asked what he was doing, he replied, “Looking for bodies.’

Despite the wealth of wisdom we have in the Bahai Writings concerning death, it is still a topic with which we often feel uncomfortable and therefore find hard to approach with our children. Even as adults we often need to clarify our own feelings, share our beliefs and honestly admit what we don’t know about death.

One way to broach the subject with children is through books. There are a number of excellent titles available. Reading with our children is a “warm fuzzy,’ so it makes the introduction and development of the concept of death through books possible in a comfortable situation.

It’s important not to wait until children are unexpectedly confronted with the death of a relative or friend (“...for death, unheralded, shall come upon thee...”'). Occasionally we can reintroduce the subject throughout their development. Preschoolers often view death as temporary and fixable, just like the cartoon character who is blown into pieces only to appear in the next segment completely unharmed. A classic introductory book is by Margaret Wise Brown and entitled The Dead

Bird. The story is told in poetry and is fitting to be read aloud. Another easy book is Nana Upstairs, Nana Downstairs by Tomie DePaola, which offers the comfort of close family ties 1n

helping a young boy deal with the death of his grandmother and great-grandmother.

Some books about death offer notes to the parents. One of these is Ill Miss You Mr. Hooper by Norman Stiles. The Sesame Street characters help Big Bird remember that Mr. Hooper has died.

Most books that can be read to preschoolers can also be read to and by beginner readers. The Tenth Good Thing About Barney by Judith Viorst is excellent. The death of a boy’s cat leads to a gentle understanding of the natural cycle of life and death.

During the early school years, children start to understand that death is physically permanent but they don’t take it personally.

They figure they can escape death through their own cleverness. Sometimes their concern will manifest itself indirectly, for example, discontent at school, sleeping problems. A book that deals beautifully with a scientific explanation of death and is appropriate at this age is Lifetimes: The Beautiful Way to Explain Death to Children, by Bryan Mellonie and Robert Ingpen.

From about age ten, children have a better comprehension of death, but in trying to cope with their fear of it, they often will take unnecessary chances to prove their control over death. One way to help children work through these fears and vicariously exercise control is to continue reading with them. The closeness provided by reading together provides an opportunity for warm communication.

Second Birth: The Goal of Life by

Gail Radley explains death in a straightforward manner. It begins

with life in the womb and follows through to life in the Abha Kingdom, quoting Baha’i Writings.

A very touching story, We Remember Phillip by Norma Simon, is the tale of a class that helps their teacher deal with the death of his son. In doing so, the children develop an understanding of the process of mourning.

All children develop at their own rate and hence cope with their feelings in different ways. Whatever way, children need listeners and someone to keep a careful, loving eye on them in a nonjudgemental manner. Through reading books suitable to their developmental stage, we can help children become aware of death in emotionally uncharged situations. Thus, when they are faced with death, maybe they will have the strength and understanding to welcome the “...joyful tidings of reunion”? Ml

Note: These and other books are available at bookstores and public libraries. Ask your librarians and school counsellors for help.

1Hidden Words, Arabic #31 2Hidden Words, Arabic #34

a

Janet Richards, the mother of two, serves on the Editorial Board of Brilliant Star. A teacher and educational consultant, she strongly recommends The Read Aloud Hand Book by Jim Trelease.

[Page 34]

In the garden of thy heart plant naught but the rose of love.

Ha

AN oS

KL D

Mw Owe eS)

is

Te hl

f=) MeL lf

ARS 5

— Se APE) [oe

» yy COL

Four year old Anousheh Khalili, from College Park, Maryland, drew this picture to illustrate part of a Hidden Word that she was trying to memorize for her Baha? class.

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