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[Page i]

Brilliant Star

november-december 1988 [Page ii]Brilliant Star volume 20 number 5 Qudrat Power • Qawl Speech november-december 1988

About the Cover

This cheerful cover is the work of Kate Richards, age 7, from Hamilton Township, N.J. It is done in plasticine clay (a kind that never hardens) and the size of the original is the same as our cover. Kate was inspired by a project in her Bahá’í class. She is in the second grade at school and besides being an artist she is also a Brownie and an Indian Princess.

Notice that Kate's picture is vertical, instead of horizontal. That means that the longest dimension is up and down rather than side to side. When you, our readers, make pictures for us, try to remember to turn your paper the same way so it is easier for us to use your art work.

Answers to "Feast Word Search"

CESUNSET SAQNOIPESU PSBTIGHHEART YOKLD J FOATNRURBHETESSERB POBLESSED DVLOVEOHG SIJNTHUELTEACH NGV PRAYERGYETRVOFEROX OCZEEAEICLEANLOPDF TCMONT HYFINRSTUCYY OJOPE COIOXCOURTESY OIXUPITYOREVLOVIRT DRAH CORCDRWW REWQU

Dear Children

Our world is so full of so many kinds of living things. Respect for and kindness to our world is part of being good world citizens. Taking care of the animals and plants—saving them and protecting them—is also a part of peacemaking. All of us must work together to keep our beautiful planet healthy.

Write to us about your plants, animals and favorite projects for celebrating our home: Planet Earth.

Love, your Editor

Answers to "Tricky Thinking"

1. Sandbox 2. Man overboard 3. I understand 4. Reading between the lines 5. Long underwear 6. Cross roads. 7. Downtown 8. Tri-cycle 9. Split level 10. 3 degrees below 0 11. Neon lights 12. Circles under the eyes

Editorial Information

Brilliant Star is a publication of the National Spiritual Assembly of the Bahá’ís of the United States. It is published six times each year, in January, March, May, July, September and November. Copyright 1988 National Spiritual Assembly of the Bahá’ís of the United States. World rights reserved.

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) $20.00; foreign, surface mail, one year $15.00, two years $28.00; foreign, air mail, one year $25.00, two years $47.00. An index for the preceding year's issues is available for $2.00.

Address manuscripts and other editorial contributions to: Brilliant Star/Bley 2512 Allegheny Dr. Chattanooga, Tn. 37421

For subscriptions, change of address and adjustments write to: Brilliant Star Bahá’í Subscriber Service Bahá’í National Center Wilmette, Il. 60091

All other correspondence should be addressed to: Brilliant Star/Richards, 4 Village Dr. Yardville, N.J. 08620

Brilliant Star is intended for children of all ages and strives to: develop the child's awareness of the oneness of humanity increase the child's conscious awareness of his spiritual nature and the need for its development provide practical approaches to viewing life's difficulties develop the child's reasoning power and stimulate his love for the order of the universe provide a standard by which the child may learn to relate to others with love and justice assist parents and teachers. developing all of the child's hidden talents and virtues

Printed in the U.S.A.

Editorial Board

Deborah Bley Editor-in-Chief

Mimi McClellan Music Editor

Rita Leydon Art Director Production

Janet Richards Secretary Manager

Keith Boehme Consultant

Terri L. Earl Consultant

Subscriber Service ISSN 0884-3635 Candace Moore Hill [Page 1]

what’s inside

Title	Page
Letters From Our Friends	2
The Bird of Paradise a story by Scott Stanley	4
The Man of the Trees the story of Richard St. Barbe Baker by Deborah Bley	8
The Nightingale learn more about this songbird	10
Freak, Bird or Mammal? What can you find in Tasmania that you can’t find here? Erma Hajek has the answer.	11
Fairy Tale a poem by Susan Engle	12
Simple Silk Screening learn how with Corre Mott	14
Feast Word Search an activity by Nancy Braun	16
Who are Bahá’í Children? a present for your teacher	16
Endangered Species Do you have friends on this list? by Deborah Bley	19
Magnanimous Mouse a little lesson in consistency by Mary Jane Garcia	20
Tricky Thinking tickle your brain with these teasers	22
Frank and His Pet Earthworm a tender tale by Corinne T. Gregory	23
Gaggles, Prides and Clutches learn about groups with Candace Moore Hill	24
Snails a poem by Paula A. Webster	26
The Beautiful Birds a song by Moira P. Shaw	27
One Hundred and One Horned Toads a story by Donna Holbrook Cox	28
The Other Jonah a true story by Yasmine Betar	30
Profile	31
Book Nook	32
Parents’ Page	33

[Page 2]

Letters from our friends

Damian Patrick Mazloomi is nine and lives in Cincinnati, Ohio. He wrote this poem about peace:

Peace

Peace is like the bluebirds

singing

Flowers blooming

And nature’s chain.

Wildlife advancing

Joy, love, happiness dancing

To God’s song.

This is where I’d like to be

In a world of peace,

love and unity.

Penpals, Please!

Amy Friedman, age 12 40 Malcolm St. Hamilton, New Zealand

Amy likes writing stories and collecting stickers.

Mojan Sami, age 10 P.O. Box 3053 Bellingham, Washington 98227

Mojan likes collecting posters, and wants to be a writer of stories and poems when she grows up.

Andy Hall, one of our faithful friends from Australia, sent us this photo of himself doing one of his favorite things.

Where Mention of GOD hath been made

Rambod Charepoo, who lives in Norcross, Georgia, shared this wonderful drawing with us. [Page 3]Dear Brilliant Star,

My Dad, Momma, and brothers Nabil and Jalil and I are Bahá’í pioneers in Valencia, Venezuela. We have lived here six years. On Sunday mornings, we have children’s classes (clases de niños) in the home of Sra. Esperanza.

My older brother Nabil and I go to Colegio Internacional de ‎Corabobo Carabobo‎. My second grade class has been writing poetry. Here is one of mine I would like to share:

Hippopotamus So big With little eyes Through the tall grass Sees water holes Sits there Happy.

We all look forward for our Brilliant Star to come!

With love from Na’im Fanaian, age 7

Here is a picture of Na’im with his children’s class during Ayyám-i-Há. He says that one child is dressed up like Batman because it was also close to the time of Carnival!

Darlene Evans, a grown-up supporter of Brilliant Star, has written in the past offering lessons in Esperanto to older children. Now she has something for our younger readers! She is offering activities to help young people ages eight and under to learn the international language of Esperanto. If you are interested in receiving these free lessons, send your name, age and a self-addressed, stamped envelope in which Darlene can send the lessons back to you. Her address is: Darlene Evans, 418 Forest Ave., Wilmette, IL 60091.

Amelia Devine is five years old and lives in Moreno, California. She thought about a special service her family could do, and then drew a picture about taking toys and household things to the office of refugees near her.

The Habegger family sent us this photo from a trip to St. Lucia. With them is pioneer Marilyn Neal. [Page 4]

the Bird of Paradise

by Scott Stanley

Illustrated by Keith Kresge

The forest of Ridván was renowned throughout the land for two things: the first was its unsurpassed natural beauty and abundant wildlife; the second, somewhat more mysterious in origin though no less wonderful, was the fair inhabitant of a simple little cottage situated in the heart of the forest. The people of the village of Ridván at first thought there was nothing remarkable about the young woman who journeyed to town at times to sell her wares and to trade for the necessities of her life — merely a potter, they thought. All would admit that it was beautiful pottery she made; ‎handsome,imbued handsome, imbued‎ with both strength and grace. The villagers, while in constant demand of her pitchers and mugs, ‎mugs,were mugs, were‎ also quite fond of her little animal and bird figurines, each one so lifelike and seeming to catch so perfectly the unique characteristics of the creatures after which [Page 5]they were fashioned. They were priceless, she said, only giving them away as special gifts to whomever she fancied or favored on her occasional visits to the village.

Everyone by now knew how much she loved her dear little animals, for she often told amusing yet unusual stories of how all the creatures of the forest were her friends and visited with her and loved her. Each spring her animal friends proudly brought to her doorstep all their newborn so that they could become acquainted and share in the love she showed them.

The people of Ridván loved her also, for her spirit was dear and wise, and she brought understanding and joy to all who shared in her presence. It was no small wonder that just as the flowers about her cottage grew so richly under the influence of her love, the villagers, too, prospered and were happy.

For the potter, each new day held the hope of an ever greater happiness as she greeted her animal friends in the clearing about her cottage. She tied her pitcher to the rope and lowered it into the well to draw some water. Suddenly, from out of nowhere, there appeared an old man standing beside her whom she had never before seen. She was startled, but not frightened.

"May I have a cup of cold water?" he asked.

"Who are you? Where do you come from?" Her eyes looked deep into the eyes of the bearded and wizened man as she poured from the pitcher and handed him the cup.

"I am a traveller," he said, "from a far away land. I have admired your figurines of the animals and birds throughout the village. They are quite special. I felt I had to meet the one who made them, and the people of the village directed me here."

"Thank you for your kind words," she said humbly. "They are quite special to me too, sir, because I do it all in love. I love the creatures, I love to work in clay, and I love giving them as gifts to the people I love."

"I wonder if you have as yet fashioned the Bird of Paradise?"

"No," she said, hesitating as she pondered the thought. "I don’t believe I have. Though I have fashioned many birds – the finch, the bluebird, the owl, and many more. But I have not seen or even heard of the Bird of Paradise. What is it like?"

"Oh, it is a wonderful creature. No other is so full of grace, with such great beauty and color. The song is so exquisite it is certainly beyond me to describe. I know that it is very rare, so rare in fact that there are many who believe it doesn’t exist."

"But if it is so rare and difficult to describe, and if it is something I have never seen, how would I be able to fashion it?"

"Well, first you must imagine this Bird of Paradise." The woman closed her eyes. "I have no doubt you can do this. You must imagine the most beautiful qualities and attributes which would make this Bird of Paradise so wonderful. The more you can create it in your imagination, the easier it will be to fashion it. The more you see these things in your mind, the more perfectly you will be able to express them. Will you try?"

When she looked up from her musings to answer the stranger she was quite surprised to see that he had disappeared. The clearing was empty of all humans save herself. Except for the fact that she still held within her hand the half-empty cup of water from which the stranger drank, she would have thought the whole experience a dream.

All year long she tried to imagine what the Bird of Paradise was like, but could not. So many times she sat with her clay in hand to fashion the Bird of Paradise, but nothing would come. And so the years went by. Each year she made more pottery for the townsfolk and continued to give her figurines to each of her special friends new and old. And while her love for the people of the village deepened and her appreciation of the kingdom of nature expanded, try as she might, she still could not fashion the Bird of Paradise.

Year by year her body grew more tired with age and she made fewer and fewer visits to the village. Her pottery had become so beautiful and perfect in its form that the people of the village placed the pieces as treasures in honored places in their homes. The little figurines were regarded as [Page 6]special tokens of affection and cherished symbols of the bonds created between the potter of the forest and the grateful person to whom it had been lovingly given. She knew everyone in the village by their first names, could recall the occasions of their meeting, and even the little animals she had given them. There was not one person of any age who did not know her and love her, who had not been touched by her generosity, love, and compassion.

It was a bright clear springtime morning and the people of Ridván had been looking for the old woman to appear for days, but she had not arrived as anticipated. The villagers in their worry began to discuss the matter amongst themselves. “Always she has come to our village from her place in the forest,” said one. “She has always brought to us her wares and her treasures, her love and her gifts,” said another. “But what have we brought to her? Nothing really. And yet she has always made us feel that we ourselves were her treasures, and that we were our gifts to her.” Even the children of the village were worried.

“These days she is weak and tired and old, and cannot come to us anymore. It is our turn to visit her, to be a friend to her, to show her that we love her.” All the men, women, and children nodded in agreement. The crowd chattered with excitement as each one decided what special little gift they could bring the old woman who lived in the forest.

At last the packages were wrapped and everyone was assembled in the village square. Then they began to move as a great group up the slope and into Ridván forest. Gradually the peace and beauty of the forest itself began to float through the crowd as would a subtle fragrance in the wind until all travelled the path in utter quiet. Only the birds and breeze stirred in the trees. At last they arrived at the clearing where stood the cottage. They could see the old woman standing at the well with her pitcher in hand, surrounded by her flowers and animals. The potter smiled in greeting and with a welcoming hand motioned the people of the village to come closer.

“Don’t be frightened of my human friends,” she said quietly. The animals looked at the people of Ridván with peaceful eyes.

“We have missed you, dear sister, and have journeyed from the village to bring you gifts and to show you our love. We wish to care for you now in your old age as you have cared for us for so long.”

The potter smiled sweetly but all could see that she also smiled sadly. The sorrow came to her eyes when she saw at the back of the crowd the stranger who had called himself the traveller that day at the well so long ago.

“I have had a long, beautiful, and peaceful life. I have learned much from all of you, and hold each of you dearly in my heart, for it is all of you who have made my life so special. Really, I thank you for these things which you have brought me, but have you not already given me your gifts? The privilege and opportunity of sharing my life with you is the gift given to me.” The old woman touched the handle of the vessel she had used to draw water from the well. “The joy of the pitcher [Page 7]is that it pours water. The joy of the cup is that it receives the water. Which can be called the greater or more dear? Is it not the water itself which we have all tasted that is so precious? And is it not in our pouring forth to one another that we have all found the treasure of our happiness?”

She was quiet for ‎awhile a while‎ as she pondered again the man at the well. “Out of all these days, through these many years we have shared, I hold but one regret. That is, that I was never able to fashion the Bird of Paradise. But I am so tired, and my time here is almost done.” She sighed as though resigning herself to an inevitable conclusion. “Perhaps it was not for me to do.”

The assembly began to weep for her sorrow. They could see that her life was ebbing away and that soon she would be gone from them. But, for a moment, her eyes shined brightly and she said. “I have done my best at bringing a little beauty, love, and peace to our small part of the world and I am happy for that.” Her eyes passed over the gathering of villagers and animals about her. As she closed her eyes, her spirit passed like a breath from her body. In the same instant she could hear in the distance a melody of what had to be the most beautiful of songbirds. The approaching voice grew more beautiful and entrancing until she was immersed in sound and could feel herself enfolded in what seemed to be glorious wings of light. Before her she could see the smiling face of the wise man at the well.

“Wise sir,” she said to him in the voice of her mind, “is it the Bird of Paradise which enfolds me now?”

The old man smiled knowingly. “Indeed it is, dear sister of Life.”

“But how sad that at last I have found the Bird of Paradise and yet have no longer the means by which to fashion it in clay.”

“Do not be troubled. Look again.”

And as she did so she could see that the wings in which she was enfolded seemed to emerge from within herself, and that the very song she was hearing seemed to have as its source the quivering of her heart. “The Bird of Paradise,” she said in wonder, “is so beautiful that I could never have imagined that it is in truth my very soul.” In a rush of joy her spirit lifted and took flight into the glowing atmosphere of the heavenworld.

The wise man looked upon the villagers and animals who had gathered around her lifeless form. For a time they wept, then prepared her resting place in the clearing close to the cottage she loved. When at last they had covered her over the people of Ridván looked to the traveller for his words.

“She once gave me a cup of cold water,” he began. “She was in fact giving me a cup of her life. For the water of life poured through her in her every thought, word, and deed. All of us who have shared in her loving generosity and kindness, and tasted the sweetness of that water know now that the potter was herself a very special creature. We must all remember that in this world, in this forest, in this clearing, in this grave, lies but the clay form of the Bird of Paradise. We will all know that for all time to come, that whenever we feel in our hearts the stirrings of love, generosity, and joy, it will be but the rustling of the wings of the Bird of Paradise.” Then the old bearded man, who called himself the traveller, in ending said, “Like the potter of the forest may we be a pouring forth of benefit and blessing to our fellow creatures and fellow man.”

The villagers quietly returned to their homes that evening, absorbed in their own remembrances of the potter of the forest. And in the days that followed there were those visitors to the village of Ridván who inquired of the Bird of Paradise. Often came the answer, “Yes. Yes, the Bird of Paradise does exist. It is rare to see one indeed, but if you listen closely enough you surely will hear the rustle of its wings.” ★ [Page 8]Illustrated by Romne [Page 9]

the Man of the Trees

by Deborah Bley

As St. Barbe looked over the dusty land, saddened by the way in which carelessness had caused the topsoil to blow away after many beautiful trees had been felled, he had an idea. Standing on that soil in Kenya, he thought, What if we could plant young trees, and then plant food crops between the rows of small trees? This would provide food for the people, and would also protect the trees in their young years. When the trees are big enough and strong enough, they can be replanted. In the meantime, we will have been helping to keep the soil from eroding.

It was a wonderful idea, but how could he get the money and help to do such a big job? Thousands of trees needed to be planted. Money was short for buying seedlings and paying people to do the work. St. Barbe had another wonderful idea: he would consult with the native peoples of Kenya and ask them how they might be able to help.

St. Barbe went to the Kikuyu tribal chiefs and elders and asked them for their ideas about how they could all work together. Together they made a plan. Three thousand warriors came to hear about planting the trees. With the chiefs, fifty were chosen to become Watu Wa Miti – men of the trees. They each promised before N’gai, the high God, that they would protect the native forests of their land. Each also promised to plant ten native trees each year, and to protect trees everywhere.

The society of The Men of the Trees spread all around the world. Today, there are many people, in many countries, who also have made the same promise as those Kikuyu tribesmen, to protect trees everywhere, and to replant forests. In 1979, His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales became Patron of the organization.

Richard St. Barbe Baker knew that in order to make important changes that last, one needed to get the help of local people. He figured this out 50 years before the rest of the world began using this idea! St. Barbe spent his life teaching people about how we need to love and care for our whole world, but trees were his first love. Born in England in 1889, he became a Bahá’í in 1924. He was the first Bahá’í to be recognized around the world for his work in forestry and protecting our planet.

The Guardian, Shoghi Effendi, was very supportive of St. Barbe’s work. Shoghi Effendi became the first life member of the society of The Men of the Trees in Palestine (which is now called Israel). St. Barbe’s work brought together many religious leaders of that land, including the Chancellor of the Hebrew University, the Grand Mufti of the Supreme Muslim Council, the Latin Patriarch and the Bishop of Jerusalem. He explained to them that there was no land more in need of trees than Palestine. From this work, 42 nurseries were begun. Then St. Barbe worked hard to help everyone get involved in planting the trees. He helped make the Jewish holiday Tu Bi’shvat, which was a traditional festival of the trees, a national tree-planting day. Now most Israeli school children celebrate this day by helping to plant new trees.

St. Barbe also helped to save the giant California redwood trees, and he developed plans for reclaiming millions of acres of the Sahara Desert.

Richard St. Barbe Baker died in 1982, at the age of 92. Several days before his passing he had planted his last tree on the grounds of the University of Saskatchewan in Canada, where he spent his last years.

He wrote: “The simple act of planting a tree, which is in itself a practical deed, is also the symbol of a far-reaching ideal, which is creative in the realm of the spirit . . .” ★ [Page 10]

the nightingale

based on information provided by Rosemary Slavik

Illustrated by Sarah Cassar

“Lo, the Nightingale of Paradise singeth upon the twigs of the Tree of Eternity, with holy and sweet melodies . . .”

The opening words of the familiar Tablet of Ahmad stir our hearts. Bahá’u’lláh is talking about Himself as the nightingale. There are other places in His writings that He also uses this bird as part of the beautiful word pictures He paints for us as He teaches us about Himself, and how God wants us to be.

The nightingale takes its name from the word “night” and the Saxon word “galan” which means “to sing”. The song of the nightingale is often heard after dark, although it also sings during the day. It is regarded as the greatest of all of the bird songsters, and there is a legend that when the nightingale sings, all the other birds are quiet and listen. The loudness and purity of the nightingale’s song make it stand out among other bird songs, and its song can be heard up to one half a mile away.

Many poets and music composers have honored the nightingale in their works. There are musical pieces that are based upon the melody which the nightingale sings. Some call it a sad song, while others say it is piercingly joyous.

The nightingale is a member of the thrush family (as is our American robin). It lives in central and western Europe, and there is also a Persian nightingale. The bird is most at home in deep woods and hedges, especially along streams. It eats insects as the main part of its diet.

The coloring of the nightingale is interesting. Both the males and females have nearly the same coloring. You might remember that this is unusual for birds, since the father bird is usually brightly colored, while the mother bird is plain. The nightingale is about six inches long, with rusty brown upper parts, and reddish shades on the tail. The breast and underparts are mostly white.

Nightingales have only one brood of young in season. The female lays four to six olive-brown eggs, in nests built near the ground in thickets or hedges. These birds sing almost all the time from when they mate in April until the baby birds are hatched in June.

In the winter, the birds migrate to Africa, returning to Europe in the middle of April (just in time for Ridván!). ★ [Page 11]

Freak, Bird or Mammal?

by Erma Hajek

It is early evening in southeast Australia and the water sparkles in the fading sunlight. The nearby forest is splattered with blotches of gold from the last rays of the setting sun. Clawing its way up the river bank is a freakish animal, half-duck, half otterlike. Is it a bird or is it a mammal? It is a mammal found only in Australia and the island of Tasmania.

The duckbill, or platypus, as it is often called, is about twenty inches long. It has a two and a half inch long bill like a duck and four short stout limbs that have five claw-bearing toes that are webbed. In the forefeet the web extends far beyond the ends of the claws but is folded back when the animal is on land. The reddish fur is long, curly, and deep brown on top and paler and wooly underneath. The tail is broad and truncated like a beaver. This aquatic animal is a link between the reptile and mammal.

The outlandish duck-billed platypus has been in existence for fifty million years. The name platypus is Greek for flat-foot. In the early days of Australia, the settlers sent a few skins of duckbills to scientists in England. The scientists thought the settlers were playing a joke on them and had fastened the bill of a bird to the skin of an animal, so strange was this creature.

The three-pound duckbill that we just met probably has just awakened from its nap, as it is a nocturnal animal. It lives mostly in water and loves to dive and swim. It has a facial furrow that closes both eyes and ears when it submerges, making it look like a fur-bearing hot-water bottle as it skims through the water. A platypus cannot see straight ahead, only outward and upward, causing it to often get lost if it wanders too far from the water.

This odd little creature feeds at dusk or early in the morning. It has an enormous appetite. The duckbill uses its bill to stir up the mud at the bottom of the river so it can capture insects, worms, and shellfish thus uncovered. These are stored in cheek pouches where there is sand and gravel that grinds the food with horny plates. Its menu also includes small crustaceans, crayfish, and mollusks.

Illustrated by Rita Leydon

The female duckbill burrows a tunnel thirty feet long and about a foot below the surface to build her nest. The tunnel is blocked with earth in several places to keep enemies out. At the end is a chamber about a foot in diameter in which a nest of weeds, leaves, and grass is built. There are two entrances, one from above the ground and one from under the water. She then lays two or three eggs that are ¾ inch long. Each is enclosed in a strong flexible white shell. The babies are miniature and naked when they hatch. When the platykittens are first born the mother holds them to her body with her broad tail so they can nurse. Milk oozes from her abdomen and the babies lick the milk from her fur.

Laws now protect the platypus from its worst enemy, man. Man captured and killed many of them for their expensive fur. Black rats and varieties of river cod are still its natural enemies but the platypus is now able to thrive.

If you’re ever in southeast Australia, if you are real lucky, you might see this neat little fur-bearing creature on a river bank, grooming itself, using its rear claws like a comb. ★ [Page 12]

Fairy Tale

by Susan Engle © 1988

Far, far away in the kingdom of Murth Lived a king with two sons and a daughter. The king called his male offspring the salt of the earth But his girl child was dearer than water.

One day, the king beckoned his children to him And said, “Children, my heart’s joy, my progeny, I need to sort out, ere my mind becomes dim, Simple truth from all kinds of hodge-podgeny.

I’ll set you a task, send you out for a week, Unadvised, unprepared, on your own, And the one who returns with the answer I seek Wins the kingdom, the crown and the throne.”

“No problem,” said Harry and Tom, the two boys, “Just tell us the task we must do.” Miranda looked up from the floor and her toys. “I’ll do my best, Papa, for you.”

“The task is quite simple. Now sharpen your mind And your eyes as you scour the land. The winner must bring the most fruits he can find . . . That will fit in the palm of his hand.”

Young Harry and Tom jumped right up and left town Before those who were watching could blink. Miranda stretched slightly and smoothed out her gown, Then retired to have a good think.

Slowly and quickly the seven days passed. The two boys scampered in from their questing Very eager to share the small fruit they’d amassed. In the throne room, Miranda was resting.

“What ho!” sang the boys as they drew near the throne, “Was your search very fruitful, our sister?” And thinking that she had failed, out on her own, They leaned over and quietly kissed her.

Miranda just smiled. “Welcome home,” said the king. “Let us see what your journeys have wrought.” And from packages tied up with paper and string The boys pulled forth the fruit they had brought.

In Harry’s large hand sat sweet cherries galore. “There are twenty that fit,” he declared. “I have many more grapes. In fact, I’ve thirty-four,” Countered Tom, as they looked and compared.

“Now, daughter, come forth,” came the king’s soft command. As Miranda arose with aplomb, A hush fell on the court. Then she opened her hand. Three small seeds nestled in her plump palm. [Page 13]“These seeds,” she explained, “which in number are three Have no visible leaves, trunk or roots; But waiting in each is a new apple tree And each tree carries dozens of fruits.”

“Bravo,” cried the king. “Simple truth has been found. May Miranda rule wisely and well.” A great cheer for Miranda arose all around Like the toll of a slow-swinging bell.

Now in faraway Murth, daily classes are taught To help all of the kingdom to see All the worlds that unfold when we spend time in thought And find, deep in the seed, a new tree. ★

Illustrated by Winifred Barnum Newman [Page 14]

Simple Silk Screening

by Corre Mott

Although the process of silk screening is relatively simple, it requires some very specialized tools and supplies, so a visit to your local art supply store is probably necessary before this activity can be attempted.

Read through all directions and study the drawings carefully so you have a full understanding of the process and what materials you will need. Keep in mind that the ink will be different if you are printing on fabric (T-shirts) or paper (posters). Also plan for an easy clean-up before you make your mess.

Have a great time printing and please send us a copy of your work! ★

YOU NEED SOME INK, BLUE, ‎YELLO YELLOW‎, RED

AND A SQUEEGEE

MAKE SURE YOUR FRAME IS LARGER THAN THE PRINT YOU ARE MAKING

... AND A WOODEN FRAME LIKE THIS WHICH HAS BEEN NAILED OR SCREWED TOGETHER IN THE CORNERS.

A SPECIAL FABRIC SCREEN IS STRETCHED NICE AND TIGHT OVER THE FRAME AND STAPLED IN POSITION.

TAPE ALONG THE INSIDE CORNERS SO THAT INK WON’T OOZE OUT AND MAKE A MESS

FABRIC SCREEN IS ON THIS SIDE [Page 15]STENCIL* FRAME TAPE SCREEN

• WRAPPING PAPER WORKS FOR A STENCIL, MYLAR IS EXCELLENT, NEWSPAPER FALLS APART. THE STENCIL MATERIAL NEEDS TO BE LARGER THAN THE SCREEN FRAME.

DRAW YOUR DESIGN ON THE STENCIL PAPER...

...CUT OUT THE SPACES AND HOLES WHERE THE INK SHOULD GO

POSITION THE PAPER OR CLOTH THAT THE FINAL PRINT WILL APPEAR ON UNDER THE STENCIL... THEN LOWER THE FRAME ONTO IT AS IF IT WERE HINGED

HERE’S THE FUN PART! NOW YOU JUST GLOB ON THE INK AND PULL IT ACROSS YOUR CUT DESIGN FIRMLY WITH THE SQUEEGEE. THEN, VERY CAREFULLY LIFT UP THE FRAME AND THE STENCIL. HOW DID YOUR DESIGN COME OUT?

RED

REMEMBER !!! TO PUT PROTECTIVE PAPER OR PLASTIC ON YOUR WORK SURFACE BEFORE YOU USE THE INK! [Page 16]

Feast Word Search

by Nancy Braun

Look for words that have to do with Feast. They run up and down only, no words are on the diagonal. Clues for the words are below. You will find the answers on the inside front cover. Happy hunting!

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1. Feast is the _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ of ‎Ba..á’í Bahá’í‎ community life. 2. There are _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ Feasts every year. 3. Feast is on the first day of the _ _ _ _ _ _ . 4. The day begins at _ _ _ _ _ _ . 5. The atmosphere at Feast is one of _ _ _ _ _ and _ _ _ _ _ _ _ . 6. We want our bodies and our clothes to be _ _ _ _ _ and pure. 7. The Feast has _ _ _ _ _ _ parts. 8. _ _ _ _ _ _ is conversation with God. 9. In the middle of the Feast Bahá’ís _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ together. 10. A frequent topic of consultation is _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ . 11. We treat each other with the utmost _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ . 12. The material Feast is _ _ _ _ . 13. The first Feast was given by the _ _ _ _ ; 14. “ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ is the _ _ _ _ , ” 15. “Where mention of _ _ _ hath been made...”

Who are Bahá’í Children?

The Spiritual Assembly of Hamilton Township, New Jersey, prepared something very special for their children. They felt that there was a need for a simple pamphlet that the children could give to their teachers at the beginning of the school year that would help the teachers understand what being a Bahá’í child means in relation to the school community. The result of their effort is the unusual appearance of the next two pages (pp 17 and 18) of this issue.

The Spiritual Assembly of Hamilton Township has given Brilliant Star permission to reprint their pamphlet in such a manner that you can easily copy as many as you might need for your family or your community.

You will notice that there are no accent marks in the word “Baha’i” in the pamphlet. This is not a mistake. The Office of Public Information routinely leaves out the accent marks when they provide material about the Faith for publication. Most newspapers and magazines are not able to reproduce the accent marks correctly. Leaving the accent marks out lessens the chance of confusion.

Have an adult help you with the copying. Both sides of a piece of paper have to ‎do be‎ copied, with the print and pictures oriented just the same way they occur here on our pages. Then fold each one in thirds with the photo of the five children as the cover.

Now...comes the best part. Give one to each of your teachers at school with a big smile on your face. They will really appreciate it. We’re sure that you will think of other adults (such as scout leaders, parents of friends) who might also benefit from receiving one. ★ [Page 17]

Who Are Bahá’í Children?

As they approach maturity they join the Bahá’í community as a youth member. At the age of 21 Bahá’ís are eligible to vote and be elected to Bahá’í administrative councils.

Bahá’í children are taught the unity of humankind.

The Bahá’í House of Worship in New Delhi, India.

The Shrine of the Báb at the Bahá’í World Center, Haifa, Israel. [Page 18]

What Do Bahá’ís Believe?

Bahá’ís believe in . . .

• the unity of God and of His Prophets
• the basic oneness of all religions
• the oneness of the human race
• the elimination of all prejudice
• the equality of women and men
• compulsory education for all
• the harmony of science and religion
• the independent investigation of truth
• universal peace and justice as the ultimate goals for mankind

Bahá’ís follow the teachings of the co-founders of the Bahá’í Faith, the Báb and Bahá’u’lláh. Bahá’ís are found in every corner of the world and share these beliefs.

“My first counsel is this: Possess a pure, kindly and radiant heart.. Bahá’í Writings

What Are The Bahá’í Holidays?

In the United States, Bahá’í children may take off some or all the Bahá’í Holy Days from school. Often special observances and activities are planned for these days. They might include a special trip, a prayer breakfast or a family day.

October 20	The Anniversary of the Birth of the Báb
November 12	The Anniversary of the Birth of Bahá’u’lláh
March 21	The Feast of Naw-Rúz
April 21	The Festival of Riḍván
April 29	The Ninth day of Riḍván
May 2	The Twelfth day of Riḍván
May 23	The Anniversary of the Declaration of the Báb
May 29	The Anniversary of the Ascension of Bahá’u’lláh

Ayyám-i-Há is four days (five in leap year) that are set aside as days of hospitality, gift giving and visiting the sick and the poor. It begins February 26. Some Bahá’í children like to share a treat with their classmates during this time.

Can Bahá’í Children Participate In Celebrations Observed In School?

Yes, Bahá’í children are delighted to celebrate their friends’ and schoolmates’ holidays.

“O people! Consort with the followers of all religions in a spirit of friendliness and fellowship.” Bahá’í Writings

The Bahá’í House of Worship in Wilmette, Illinois. [Page 19]

endangered species

by Deborah Bley

Have you ever seen a dodo? How about a passenger pigeon? We know that you will have only seen these animals in pictures because they are extinct. This means that the very last one of their kind died, leaving no others for us to enjoy or study. Sometimes animals or plants become extinct because they were not able to change with the world around them, and so could not survive. Many times, however, animals and plants become extinct for a sad reason: the carelessness or greed of people.

Conservation is a big word that means saving or preserving. When we know about conservation and try to be aware that each of the kinds of plants and animals on our planet is precious, we begin to act differently towards them. We realize that if we don’t take good care of the trees, plants, animals, birds, and fish, some of the beautiful species of each will die, and our children will never, ever get to see them.

There are many plants and animals around the world that are endangered. This means that ‎the'number the number‎ of them is very small, and that they might die out if we do not take extra care to help them survive and reproduce. Here are some of the plants and animals you may know about. We hope that you will begin to think about what you can do to keep these special living things from disappearing completely and forever. ★

Animals

• Siberian and Bengal Tiger
• American Alligator
• Great Egret
• African White Rhinoceros
• Brown Pelican
• Prairie Dog
• Polar Bear
• Snow Leopard
• Bald Eagle
• Manatee
• Giant Panda
• Orangutan
• Blue Whale
• Whooping Crane
• Buffalo
• African Elephant

Plants

• Lady’s Slipper
• Goldenrod
• Giant Saguaro Cactus
• Venus Fly Trap
• Trillium
• Columbine
• Gentian
• American Elm
• Giant Sequoia

[Page 20]Illustrated by Rita Leydon

Magnanimous Mouse

by Mary Jane Garcia © 1988

Meg, the mouse, always knew when it was Feast Day. The old house where she lived, was always so busy. Something delicious would be baking for the guests, and the smells drifted across the floors, into all the cracks and crevices of the floorboards and walls, where Meg made her home. Then the dusting and vacuuming would begin. Meg didn’t like that part one bit. The air was so dusty, she would cough and sneeze, and little bits of things the vacuum spit out, would fly into her holes. She had to think fast and dodge them sometimes. One day, that vacuum spit out something copper, and round, and shiny. It rolled right into the hole where she was sitting. [Page 21]Meg knew what it was; for she had seen the smallest children come to Feast, holding these in their hands. They would put them into envelopes, and then into the box that Mrs. M. always set out at Feast. She remembered what Mrs. M. had told the children: “The size of your contribution is not important, but when you consistently participate in the fund, you show loftiness of spirit,” she had said. Little Meg was always very attentive during Feast. She wanted to be sure she noticed exactly where each crumb dropped, so she didn’t waste time running here and there or make unnecessary noises, searching high and low for the tasty morsels folks had dropped. Meg thought that “cleanup” was the best portion of Feast.

That night, from her perch above the doorframe, she was listening to the words of Bahá’u’lláh: “And if, at any time, any gift were presented to Him, that gift was accepted as a token of His grace unto him that offered it.”

She thought of how fortunate she was, living in this warm house, full of mice hideouts, and having all the yummies she could eat; and she thought, “Well, now I have something to give Him for all His blessings to me!” She determined to put her copper into the box that very night. When she was sure everyone was asleep, she started rolling the copper coin out of her hole. It wasn’t easy for a mouse to move a coin across the floor, and it was even more difficult to squeeze under the box lid to drop it in.

But Meg did it. After she did it, she had such a warm fuzzy feeling in her tummy, that she wanted to do it again. So she did — every Feast.

She would search the house, under chairs, behind curtains, between sofa cushions, and even under rugs. That was the most dangerous!

By Feast, she always had at least one copper for the fund box. Mrs. M. wondered about the small, anonymous, contributions; but she was also impressed that they were so consistent. Even the children, who were more consistent than most of the adults, weren’t doing as well as “anonymous”. Meg heard Mrs. M. talking to herself, as she totaled the fund money. “Anonymous, two cents,” she would say. “There’s always something from this ‘anonymous!’” “I’m not very good at those big words,” thought Meg. “I’ve heard folks say they have made unanimous decisions sometimes, maybe anonymous is something like unanimous! Well, whatever it means, it surely is impressive, even if it isn’t my name.”

Then one Feast night, as Meg was squeezing under the box lid to deposit her coin; she heard Mrs. M. coming downstairs. She couldn’t move, she was frozen with fright! “What if Mrs. M. sees me?” she thought. She held on tightly, but her toes were slipping. She couldn’t get into the box to hide, and she couldn’t get out. It was too late to run away.

“Maybe if I stay quite still she won’t even notice me. She might still have sleep in her eyes.” But Mrs. M. did see — though she didn’t make a sound. She just smiled happily, and quickly went back to bed. She had “put two and two together” (a treasurer ought to be able to do that), and was certain she knew who “anonymous” was. The next Feast, Mrs. M. had put something special on the fund box. It said: Consistent Participation Award ☆ Magnanimous Mouse.

Meg was overwhelmed! “She may have seen me,” she thought, “but how did she know my name? And she gave me a middle name too!” She read it to herself again.

“Meg Anonymous Mouse,” she said, “I like the sound of that!” ★ [Page 22]

Tricky Thinking!

The puzzles below challenge us to think in new ways to find familiar phrases. We’ll do one for you, then see if you (and your family) can understand the rest. The answers are on the inside front cover.

1 SAND 1. Sandbox	2 MAN BOARD	3 STAND I
4	E | A | D | I | N | G |	5 WEAR LONG	6  R ROADS  A  D  S
7 T O W N	8 CYCLE CYCLE CYCLE	9 LE     VEL
10 0 M.D. PH.D. B.S.	11 KNEE LIGHTS	12 II IIII OO

[Page 23]

Frank and His Pet Earthworm

by Corinne T. Gregory © 1988

Frank found Ernie Earthworm under a flat rock near the pond. He called him Ernie because it sounded right. Ernie was naked and fat, and he squirmed when Frank put him into a shoebox of damp soil.

“He likes it,” shouted Frank, as Ernie began a tunnel. “Hey, Mom, I’m going to take Ernie to the pet show tomorrow.”

“That may not be such a good idea,” said Mom. “Your friends will probably take much larger pets.”

But the next day, Frank was still determined, and wondered how he could make Ernie look nice for the show. Suddenly, he thought of Mom’s little silver jewel box. She was in the garden and he did not take the time to ask if he could borrow it. He just slipped it in the shoebox with Ernie and hurried to the pet show in the park.

Everybody was excited as their pets arrived with their owners. Kelly Jo brought her poodle, and Dwayne, his white mouse. The newspaper photographer was there and the judge was a real judge from City Hall.

As the boys and girls lined up for the show, Frank put Ernie in the jewel box and thought how pretty and pink his little body looked on the blue lining. When it was Frank’s turn, he called out proudly, “I’m Frank. My pet is Ernie Earthworm.” But when he opened the jewel box, Ernie was dead!

The judge said something that sounded like, “Hurruump” and moved on to Mindy and her cat.

Frank’s lower lip trembled and tears squeezed through his eyelids. He heard giggles, and somebody whispered, “Fish-bait.” And there was Mom — standing close enough to see what had happened.

Frank hung his head and looked at his feet while the prizes were presented to the winners. Then the judge spoke, “We had an unusual pet in the show today, and because I grew up on a farm, I want to tell you something about earthworms.

“A long time ago, a scientist discovered that the earthworm cultivates the soil. He tunnels deep and brings up more soil, and plows and stirs it. He benefits the soil in other ways by allowing his body to put minerals back into the earth.

“Corn crops have been increased where earthworms were found at work. And as we try to improve our environment, it might be well to increase the population of earthworms. Yes, sir-ee, the earthworm is a mighty important fellow, and I know Frank is proud to have had Ernie for his pet.”

Frank felt a little better after listening to the judge, but he still had to talk to Mom. He held the little box close and dug the toe of his blue canvas shoes in the gravel path and waited. He thought of all the things he had done wrong today . . .

When he felt Mom’s hand on his shoulder, he looked up quickly to see if she was going to yell at him. Instead, she smiled and said, “Frank, I guess there can be many kinds of pets, and many ways to show them. Let’s get home now and clean up my jewel box.”

Frank suddenly felt very good inside. He went home and buried Ernie in the back garden, remembering the judge’s words about earthworms. [Page 24]

Gaggles, Prides and Clutches

by Candace Moore Hill © 1988

Conan and Tiernan live in a small Indiana town very close to Chicago, where their dad works during the week and comes home on the weekends. Sometimes he brings along Mr. Hill, a family friend. Conan and Tiernan call him Rick. They like it when Rick visits because he plays with them while their mom and dad talk about the happenings of the week. Conan is five, and Tiernan is six, but Rick is a grown-up and knows interesting things, and likes to take them to the park.

Last Saturday, during their walk, Conan pointed out some geese that were in the pond. "Look, gooses," he said.

"Not gooses. They’re geese, Conan," explained Tiernan, "A herd of geese."

Rick laughed. "Not a herd, Tiernan," he said. "More than one goose is called a gaggle of geese."

Both boys looked up at him, and together they said, "Gaggle, what’s a gaggle?"

"Maybe no one knows who invented the word gaggle," said Rick, "but if you listen to geese as they talk to one another, what does it sound like?"

Tiernan closed one eye, and Conan put a finger to his chin. "Gaggles?" they asked.

"Sounds like gaggling to me," Rick said with a wink. "Did you know that almost all animals, and some kinds of people, have a special word to use when you see more than one of them? And that there are many kinds of collective names, some describing how the animals look, or sound, or even an aspect of their characters?"

The boys shook their heads no.

"Well then," Rick continued, "What do you think you would call more than one toad?"

"A croak of toads?" Conan asked.

"Good guess," said Rick, "but with toads it’s not what they sound like, but what they look like."

"A wart of toads?" guessed Tiernan.

"You’re getting close," said Rick. "More than one toad is called a knot of toads."

"Does every animal have its own special names?" asked Conan.

Rick nodded. "A lot of them do."

"And do you know them all?" asked Tiernan, because he knew that Rick knew quite a lot for a grown-up.

"No, not all of them, just some of them. In fact, there are many collective names that I bet you know. Even people."

"Lots of people," Conan guessed.

"Gobs of people," Tiernan guessed.

"Almost. You would say a congregation of people. Do you know eggs?"

"A refrigerator of eggs?" asked Conan.

"Maybe in the kitchen," Rick answered, "But what about in the nest?"

Tiernan looked at the sky, and Conan stood on one leg. They thought very hard, and then shrugged their shoulders.

"Next time you see eggs in a nest," Rick explained, "you can call them a clutch of eggs."

"A clutch, why a clutch?" both boys asked together.

"Perhaps because they look like a treasure that is hidden away."

Rick then pointed to the fish in the pond. "You know what to call a group of fish?"

"We know that one," cried Conan. "Fishes go to school, just like us."

"Yeah, a school of fish," Tiernan proclaimed.

"Exactly so. Good for both of you. Then what would you call puppies?"

"A bark of puppies," said Conan.

"Puppies do bark, but they can be messy sometimes." Rick looked at them over the tops of his

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Brilliant Star November-December 1988 [Page 25]glasses, and said, “Just like little boys, and that is why you would say a litter of puppies.”

As they walked around the park that day Rick told them that bees are called swarms, and sheep run in flocks, and that you would say a herd of elephants, but a crash of rhinoceroses.

“Crash, clash, bash, mash, dash,” cried Conan and Tiernan, and they raced Rick to the swings.

“How about boys, Rick?” Tiernan asked.

“Yes, tell us about more than one boy,” said Conan.

Rick looked at them thoughtfully. “I have heard many things said about boys, but today I would have to say that more than one boy would be a question of boys. Or perhaps a squeal of kids.” And with that he reached down, gathered them up, and hugged them tight until they squealed.

“Is there a word for more than one hug?” Tiernan whispered, his arms about Rick’s neck.

“When I visit you I get a harvest of hugs,” he answered. And then he put them on the swings, and began to push. ★

Illustrated by Robin Allen © 1988

There are many, many collective nouns, and anyone can make them up. It is a game that has been played throughout the centuries, beginning perhaps with game hunters. Here are some more:

A pride of lions. A plague of locusts. A gang of elk. A party of jays. A bouquet of pheasants. An exaltation of larks. A brood of hens. A colony of ants. A wedge of swans. A company of parrots. A parliament of owls. A murder of crows.

Many people have made up collective nouns for kinds of people and things. Some of these invented ones are: A string of violinists. A ring of jewelers. A pound of carpenters. A sample of salesmen. A float of dancers, and they go on and on . . .

What would be a collective noun for Bahá’ís? Maybe a diversity of Bahá’ís! ★ [Page 26]

Snails

by Paula A. Webster © 1988

Snails are frail and have no tails nor feet. Their horns don’t lock when they chance to meet, and they ooze a little as they walk. Snails don’t talk.

But snails are veiled in whorls of shell: ivory, gray, and black. And they don’t seem to mind carrying something so fine, high upon their backs. [Page 27]

the Beautiful Birds

Illustrated by Susan Rose © 1988

words and music by Moira P. Shaw, age 5

I don’t care where I am. I just care what my life is a——bout.

When the world is peace——ful, the beau-ti-ful birds will come out.

Come out and sing! (whistle ———)

Come out and sing! (whistle ———)

When the world is peace——ful, the beau-ti-ful birds come and sing. (bird whistles) [Page 28]

One Hundred and One Horned Toads

by Donna Holbrook Cox

Chase was pretending to be a knight in his backyard kingdom one day, when his dog began barking at a corner of the garden.

He galloped across the yard, waved his sword and yelled, “Hold steady, Bilbo, we’ll get that dragon!” The great knight was delighted to find that Bilbo had cornered a brown, spotted horny toad.

Chase picked up the puffed-up lizard and galloped to the back door of the castle. “Mom! Look what I found. A horny toad. He’s my pet. Where can I put him? His name is Merlin. Can I bring him in?”

Chase’s mother didn’t mind horny toads so much, but really didn’t want them in the house. She gave him an empty goldfish bowl that could be placed on the patio table and there is where Chase kept his pet.

That evening, Chase’s dad looked at the captive and agreed that he was a beautiful horny toad. Chase said, “I’m going to keep him forever.”

His dad smiled and said, “He’s a good pet, son, but I think you should let him go. It isn’t good to keep wild things too long in captivity.”

“But I caught Merlin and he’s mine,” mumbled Chase. His bottom lip puckered just a bit.

“Well, we’ll see,” his dad said.

In the morning, Chase charged outside in his pajamas to see if Merlin was o.k. And he was. He looked so lonely all by himself in the empty bowl that Chase decided Merlin needed a friend. Chase went back to the garden and looked around some and found another horny toad.

“Look, Merlin! I’ve found you a friend. Here!” yelled Chase. He practically threw the new horny toad in with Merlin. Chase’s mom saw this as she was looking out the window and shook her head. What would he come up with next?

Another horny toad is what.

Next, he found a gray one beside the house. Then, that afternoon he followed his mother to the alley to empty the garbage and found three more!

Imagine what his mom thought later on, when he came home from the neighbor’s house carrying two more spiky reptiles.

By the time his dad came home from work, Chase had collected fifteen horny toads! His dad thought that was plenty, but Chase said Merlin just had to have more friends. All this horny toad hunting was fun!

For days Chase found horny toad after horny toad. Soon most of the backyard was covered with the prickly lizards. There were horny toads in mayonnaise jars, flower vases, empty paint buckets, coffee cans, boxes, wastebaskets and jelly jars. There were even some in Chase’s wading pool. He put them there to see if horny toads could swim. And they can. There must have been one-hundred-one horny toads in all. Chase was on the look-out for more.

One evening, Chase and his dad were looking at all his pets, when they noticed that Merlin looked sick. He just lay there in the fishbowl and didn’t move much.

“What’s wrong with him, Dad? Why won’t he move?” asked Chase.

“I suppose he’s going to die,” said his dad. [Page 29]“Why?” sobbed Chase.

His dad sat in a lawn chair and put Chase in his lap. “Some animals, like dogs or cats, are happy living in a backyard as pets. But some animals — wild animals, like these horny toads — need to be free to live,” explained his dad.

“I guess we’d better let them go. I don’t want any of them to die, especially Merlin. I love him,” said Chase.

The next morning, Chase and his dad put all one-hundred-one horny toads, except Merlin, in the back of the pick-up. They would be driving out into the country to let the lizards go. Because Merlin was special, Chase wanted to hold him. His mom knew that this was a very hard thing for Chase to do and even though she was not too sad to see all of those horny toads go, she wanted Chase to have something to remember Merlin by. So, she took a picture of Chase holding Merlin.

That picture is hanging on Chase’s bedroom wall now. Chase looks happy and you can almost see a smile on Merlin’s prickly face. ★

Illustrated by Linda Orlando © 1988 [Page 30]

the Other Jonah

by Yasmine Betar © 1988

Do you remember the Bible story of Jonah being swallowed by a whale? In recent times just such a thing happened to a young Englishman.

In February 1891, an English sailor named James Bartley, was a crew member on the whaling ship, Star of the East. It plowed the waters off the Falkland Islands in the South Atlantic Ocean searching for the huge marine animals. The waves slapped high against the ship, whipping winds and driving misty rain on the faces of the anxious sailors. Suddenly in view, three miles out, they spotted a sperm whale, a great fearsome giant. It proved to be 80 feet long and weighed 80 tons.

Two boats with crew members and harpooners, one of them James Bartley, were dispatched to kill the whale. As they closed in, one harpooner catapulted his eight-foot spear toward the whale. The spear, a sharp pointed instrument with barbs for stabbing fish and other animals, struck the whale instantly and effectively. The whale twisted and lashed out with its large fan-shaped tail beating the water with powerful strokes.

The tail slammed into one of the rowboats, lifted it into the air and capsized it. The sailors soon subdued and killed the wounded mammal.

When the rowboat was righted, Bartley and another crew member were missing. After an anxious search of the waters, they were written off as drowned. In the turmoil, no one saw what really happened to Bartley.

The crew pulled in the carcass of the whale alongside the Star of the East and worked until late evening removing the massive blubber. The next morning, using a derrick, the sailors hoisted the whale’s stomach on the deck. According to M. deParville, Science Editor of the Journal des Debats, who investigated the incident, there was then a movement in the whale’s belly.

When it was opened, Bartley was found unconscious. He was carried on deck and bathed in sea water. This revived him, but his mind was not clear and he was confined to the Captain’s quarters for two weeks.

Within four weeks, Bartley had fully recovered and with great emotion, related what it was like to live in the belly of a whale. He remembered the whale’s tail hitting the boat and Bartley felt himself slipping along a smooth passage. His hands felt something slimy all around him. The wet penetrating heat was unbearable and he lost consciousness. It was thought to be more than 104°. When he awoke, he was in the Captain’s cabin.

A miracle! He was alive! His head was pounding with pain and his body felt like it was a limp mass of bones. The constant care by his fellow shipmates, the final care by the family and friends restored Bartley and he was able to once more take up his life, having been spared.

For the rest of his life, Bartley’s face, neck and hands remained white, bleached by the whale’s gastric juices. Although nothing was reported on his retirement from whale hunting, some of the friends stated “he had gotten religion.” Later reports proved it so! ★ [Page 31]

Profile

Corinne Taylor Gregory’s story Frank and His Pet Earthworm has an interesting history. It was not until years after her retirement from teaching that Ms. Gregory began writing with an eye toward having her work published. It was through a grant from the Kentucky Foundation for Women that she was able to purchase office equipment to assist her in her writing. Ms. Gregory is 84 years old and lives by herself in a picturesque cabin called “Rails and Trails” on three acres of wooded land in Kentucky.

She received her bachelor’s degree from Western State University and did graduate work at the University of Cincinnati. Her teaching experience included eight years as director of a small girls’ school, The Grace Nettleton, in Tennessee, which she describes as “probably the most rewarding years of my life.” She has been a widow since 1960, and has devoted the years since her husband’s passing to teaching and free-lance writing.

She has recently completed a book on earthquakes, which is in the hands of an agent at present. Her work on several boards of directors in her area and writing book reviews for the local library help keep her busy. She says, “My writing...has been my solace and an ever present help in my loneliness, and in combating the rut so many fall into—counting their pains and pills!” ★

Moira Pacífica Parvanih Shaw is six years old, and wrote the piece of music which appears in this issue. Born in Los Ríos, Panama, into a pioneering family, she now lives in Fayetteville, North Carolina, with her mom and dad, brother Abdías and sister Korinna. Moira seems to have inherited some of her musical creativity from her parents, Dara Gay and Greg. Her mom sings and plays violin, and her dad performs and writes music, so there is always lots of music to share in her family.

Moira is schooled at home and loves to swim and play basketball, in addition to her interest in music. Recent exciting events in her life included a trip to see her grandmother in New Mexico, and a travel teaching trip with her whole family.

Moira’s advice to our readers is to “always practice reading your prayer before the meeting”! ★

Susan Rose received a Bachelor of Fine Arts degree from the Nova Scotia College of Art and Design in 1975. She majored in printmaking with an emphasis on lithography. She has exhibited widely in Canada and also displayed nineteen drawings at the Bahá’í House of Worship in Wilmette during 1988.

In 1976, Susan and her husband, John, moved to Holman, NWT, Canada, to work with the Holman Eskimo Co-op. John was Print Program Director there until 1984 and Susan managed the Craftshop until 1980. After a brief two-year stay in Edmonton they returned in 1986 to live in Inuvik. Susan now works in her home studio as a graphic artist. You can see her work on page 27 of this issue of Brilliant Star. ★ [Page 32]

Book Nook

for kids...

The Secret of the Stolen Mandolin by Barbara Larkin, One World Publications, 1986

This adventure story provides us with a quest and a set of young heroes and heroines who are faced with a parallel world in which they must not only help to find a precious stolen mandolin which the frog inhabitants of that world believe is essential to their reason for singing, but must also begin to sort out truth from supposition. All things are not as they first appear in this world, and judging a person’s actions fairly and seeking out the truth are central to surviving. The children, Hilary, Phyllis and their cousin Yop, are pulled into a mystery, dealing with forbidden islands, talking frogs and the mysterious Maidenfrog. Ms. Larkin (who has also written for Brilliant Star as Barbara Larkin Monajem) proves herself an able story-teller in this genre. ★

Nothing in Common by Cindy Savage, Bahá’í Publishing Trust, 1988

Finally! A book is available for pre-teens and young teens which presents basics of the Faith and the individual search for a heart-felt link with Bahá’u’lláh in a way that is engaging and real. Katie meets Matt at school. She is attracted to and intrigued by this young man who is so different from the other boys. As she gets to know him, she sees that their interests are so different, yet their diversity becomes the magnet in their friendship and the seeds for Katie’s discovery of the Bahá’í Faith. Within the plot of this novel, the author deals straightforwardly and firmly with the questions faced by young people: peer pressure, alcohol, drugs, and pre-marital sex. How her friends deal with these issues and the unique way in which Matt and his Bahá’í friends approach these tests offer to young readers an affirmation through action of the teachings of Bahá’u’lláh. Katie’s own spiritual search is the center of the story and touches the heart in a real way as she examines her own motives, deals with parents who are not certain that it is wise for her to consider becoming a Bahá’í, and as Katie ultimately grows into carving out her own Bahá’í identity. ★

Top of the Hill by Morris Taylor, Naturegraph, 1987.

Red Feather, a young boy living on an Indian reservation in the southwest, must face the painful prospect of life without his elderly, beloved great grandfather, Dark Sky. Great Grandfather has begun to speak about going to “the top of the Hill” and Red Feather vows to follow him, wherever he goes. The story of how Red Feather comes to understand and make peace with the transition of death is told with sensitivity and tenderness, and with a cadence that is reminiscent of the rhythm of Native American writing. Red Feather begins to grasp not only the meaning of death, but a sense of the purpose of life as well. Don’t miss this one! ★

for parents and teachers...

Kids are Worth It by Barbara Coloroso

Taking a positive approach to discipline is at the heart of these materials by Barbara Coloroso. She provides materials in the form of audio tapes and printed booklets which offer concrete and creative ways of dealing with children within the family and in the classroom. Her goals for discipline focus not on punishment but on first making expectations clear, and then, when discipline is necessary, helping to 1. show children what they have done wrong, 2. give them ownership of the problem, 3. assist them to figure out how to solve the problem(s) they created, and 4. preserve their dignity.

Through her tapes and written materials, she identifies manipulations children may learn to use, and ‎how to not to be how not to be‎ hooked by these approaches. She also offers specific ways to assist children to be empowered to stand up for themselves in a way which asserts their rights, but which is peaceful and sure.

Her presentation is often funny because it strikes the mark so completely in offering examples from her own experience as a parent and teacher. Her many examples remind us of interactions with our own children or events from our own childhoods. That is part of what sets these materials apart from so many other approaches that deal only theoretically with the complex issues of raising children. Ms. Coloroso’s materials can help us to raise children to become competent, thoughtful, independent adults with a strong sense of themselves, an identity strong enough that they can begin to move toward selflessness, giving, and sensitivity to the greater world and the needs of others.

Ms. Coloroso’s materials can be ordered by writing to Kids Are Worth It, Inc., P.O. Box 621108, Littleton, CO 80162 or by calling (303) 972-3237. ★ [Page 33]

The Bahá’í Statement on Nature

“Nature in its essense is the embodiment of My Name, the Maker, the Creator. Its manifestations are diversified by varying causes, and in this diversity there are signs for men of discernment. Nature is God's Will and is its expression in and through the contingent world. It is a dispensation of Providence ordained by the Ordainer, the All-Wise.” Bahá’í Writings.

With those words, Bahá’u’lláh, Prophet-Founder of the Bahá’í Faith, outlines the essential relationship between man and the environment: that the grandeur and diversity of the natural world are purposeful reflections of the majesty and bounty of God. For Bahá’ís, there follows an implicit understanding that nature is to be respected and protected, as a divine trust for which we are answerable.

Such a theme, of course, is not unique to the Bahá’í Faith. All the world's major i religions make this fundamental connection between the Creator and His creation. How could it be otherwise? All the major independent religions are based on revelations from one God—a God who has successively sent His Messengers to earth so that humankind might become educated about His ways and will. Such is the essence of Bahá’í belief.

As the most recent of God's revelations, however, the Bahá’í teachings have a special relevance to present-day circumstances when the whole of nature is threatened by man-made perils ranging from the wholesale destruction of the world's rain forests to the final nightmare of nuclear annihilation.

A century ago, Bahá’u’lláh proclaimed that humanity has entered a new age. Promised by all the religious Messengers of the past, this new epoch will ultimately bring peace and enlightenment for humanity. To reach that point, however, humankind must first recognize its fundamental unity—as well as the unity of God and of religion. Until there is a general recognition of this wholeness and interdependence, humanity's problems will only worsen.

“The well-being of mankind, its peace and security, are unattainable unless and until its unity is firmly established,” Bahá’u’lláh wrote. “The earth is but one country, and mankind its citizens.”

The major issues facing the environmental movement today hinge on this point. The problems of ocean pollution, the extinction of species, acid rain and deforestation—not to mention the ultimate scourge of nuclear war—respect no boundaries. All require a transnational approach.

While all religious traditions point to the kind of cooperation and harmony that will indeed be necessary to curb these threats, the religious writings of the Bahá’í Faith also contain an explicit prescription for the kind of new world political order that offers the only long-term solution to such problems.

“That which the Lord hath ordained as the sovereign remedy and mightiest instrument for the healing of the world is the union of all its people into one universal Cause...” Bahá’u’lláh wrote.

Built around the idea of a world commonwealth of nations, with an international parliament and executive to carry out its will, such a new political order must also, according to the Bahá’í teachings, be based on principles of economic justice, equality between the races, equal rights for women and men and universal education.

All these points bear squarely on any attempt to protect the world's environment. The issue of economic justice is an example. In many regions of the world, the assault on rainforests and endangered species comes as the poor, legitimately seeking a fair share of the world's wealth, fell trees to create fields. They are unaware that, over the long term and as members of a world community which they know little about, they may be irretrievably damaging rather than improving their children's chances for a better life. Any attempt to protect nature, must, therefore, also address the fundamental inequities between the world's rich and poor.

Likewise, the uplifting of women to full equality with men can help the environmental cause by bringing a new spirit of feminine values into decision-making about natural resources. The scriptures of the Bahá’í Faith note that: “...man has dominated over woman by reason of his more forceful and aggressive qualities both body and mind. But the balance is already shifting; force is losing its dominance, and mental alertness, intuition and the spiritual qualities of love and service, in which woman is strong, are gaining ascendancy. Hence the new age will be an age less masculine and more permeated with feminine ideals...”

Education, especially an education that emphasizes Bahá’í principles of human interdependence, is another prerequisite to the building of a global conservation consciousness. The Faith's theology of unity and interdependence relates specifically to environmental issues. Again, to quote Bahá’í sacred writings:

“By nature is meant those inherent properties and necessary relations derived from the realities of things. And these realities of things, though in the utmost diversity, are yet intimately connected one with the other... Liken the world of existence to the temple of man. All the organs of the human body assist one another, therefore life continues.... Likewise among the parts of existence there is a wonderful connection and interchange of forces which is the cause of life of the world and the continuation of these countless phenomena.”

The very fact that such principles should come with the authority of religion and not merely from human sources, is yet another piece of the overall solution to our environmental troubles. The impulse behind the Assisi declarations on nature is testimony to this idea.

There is perhaps no more powerful impetus for social change than religion. Bahá’u’lláh said: “Religion is the greatest of all means for the establishment of order in the world and for the peaceful contentment of all that dwell therein.” In attempting to build a new ecological ethic, the teachings of all religious traditions can play a role in helping to inspire their followers.

Bahá’u’lláh, for example, clearly addresses the need to protect animals. “Look not upon the creatures of God except with the eye of kindliness and of mercy, for Our loving providence hath pervaded all created things, and Our grace encompassed the earth and the heavens.”

He Himself expressed a keen love and appreciation for nature, furthering the connection between the environment and the spiritual world in Bahá’í theology. “The country is the world of the soul, the city is the world of bodies,” Bahá’u’lláh said.

This dichotomy between spirituality and materialism is a key to understanding the plight of humankind today. In the Bahá’í view, the major threats to our world environment, such as the threat of nuclear annihilation, are manifestations of a world-encompassing sickness of the human spirit, a sickness that is marked by an overemphasis on material things and a self-centeredness that inhibits our ability to work together as a global community. The Bahá’í Faith seeks above all else to revitalize the human spirit and break down the barriers that limit fruitful and harmonious cooperation among men and women, whatever their national, racial or religious background.

For Bahá’ís the goal of existence is to carry forward an ever-advancing civilization. Such a civilization can only be built on an earth that can sustain itself. The Bahá’í commitment to the environment is fundamental to our Faith. [Page 34]Peace is BIRDS Flying in the sky.

This beautiful design is the work of Bianca Blante, age 7. She did it while visiting the Louhelen Bahá’í School.

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