Child's Way/Volume 2/Issue 5/Text

[Page -1]

[Page 0]dedicated to children everywhere

BAHM YEAR 127

1. The Adventures of Deweyconclusion by James Nelson 4. Kampala House of Worship 5 Flowers of the Garden by Mrs. Jerald Day The Science Corner: Secret Ink Prayer for Health Calendar Poem . Chuckles Calendar Doug's Diary: Second Installment 16. Mixed Media

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1. OKOCDN

17. Poem 18. Noontime Prayer 19. Haiku

by Mark Benson 20. Bahá’í Feast Name Puzzle by Mrs. Nella GustafSon 21. Mike and Joe by Barbara Rodgers 24. Terrariums 25. Color is Only Skin Deep by Peggy Versalle

Advisory Baard: Carole A||en, Ray Johnson, LaNelma Johnson, Maxine Rossman, Mark Rossman, Helen Sousa, Donald STreeTs

Contributing Editors: Barbara Cook, Robert HarT, Molly King, David Lepard, James Nelson

Art Illustrator and Consultant: Diane Paquef Subscription Service: Gloria Kohls Managing Editors: David Lepard

CHILD’S WAY is published bi-monfhly in January, March, May, July, “September and November in Amherst, Massachusefis. Manuscripts, editorial correspondence and subscriptions should be addressed To: CHILD'S WAY Magazine, Box 551, Amherst, Massachusetts 01002.

Subscriptions: Second Class mail USA, $4.50; Foreign, $5.00. Single copy, $ .75.

CHILD'S WAY

V01. 2, N0. 5

Editor's Note

Dear Friends of CHILD'S WAY,

We are most pleased to announce the appointment of Mrs. Gloria Kohls as Manager of the Subscription Service. Mrs. LaNelma Johnson is preparing, with her family, for an important pioneering post in India.

We extend our sincere appreciation and thanks to the Johnsons for their yeoman's service to the magazine and pray fer their continued success in the years to come.

We are also pleased to announce that Mrs. Helen Sousa will be assuming the responsible task of General Editor and will be inviting you to send her your articles and ideas. Mr. Mark Rossman will be taking on : the important position of Publicity ”fl and Special Infbrmation Services. V‘ Our sincere appreciation to them both i in advance for their services. 1

These crucial appointments Come a; at a time when we wish to remind d many of you that it is time to consider resubscribing to CHILD’S WAY. fl We look forward to being able to serve you better and thank you fbr your faithful support.

unreal. -.-‘

Sincerely,

THE MANAGING EDITOR

[Page 1]f

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Dewey was certain that he would never see the light of day again. He was being shaken and stirred in a 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 answer ed 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 doE" 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 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 rheing pulled away from the sticky orange goo and absorbed by a fresh new liquid, light and smooth.

continued on page 2

[Page 2]DEWEY Cont.

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 and 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 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: "P-E—R—F-U-M—E ——- O-R—A—N—G—E B—L-O—S-S-O—M"

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 blossom—picker 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 comtaining a liquid substance of a different glowing color. He had come to the perfume department of a famous department store.

Each morning Dewey wou1d look out from his comfortable glass house and notice the ladies as they passed the 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.

[Page 3]

Sure enough, the next day, there he was sitting on top of a cabinet in a 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 nor 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 not a 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 thinvk I hear his calling. The next time it rains, listen carefully, and look around. I'm sure he'd love to talk with you, too.

[Page 4]HOUSE OF WORSHIP Kampala

Believing that Divine Revelation is a continuous and progressive process and that all the great religions of the world are divine in origin, the Bahá’ís of Africa opened the doors of this beautiful House of Worship to all peoples, races, and religions on January 14, 1961.

The building has been built entirely of concrete and steel. It has no wood other than that of its doors. The building is considered to be unusually beautiful and is on' of the finest built structures in East Africa. With nine huge coingfl “supporting the great dome, the building is 127 ft. high, eighty- ;3 feet in diameter and seats over 600 worshipers. '

The inside of the dome ' [¢9, blu The rotunda, into which are set nine gigantic windows Ziagf h gre , amber, and pale blue glass, is a brilliant white. T ///;/nm ¢.nd the lower walls are a pale green. These colors all -add torj ’ nf lightn ss and airiness which is.

intensified by the lac ?‘ .mber g1:§:— fxiled grilles on either

side of the nine entr- ; J/

The outside of M auiuili . an~ tone-color effect. The dome is covered ? w‘: Spar 1ih - lig g een amic mosaic tiles imported from Italy. /’4_#3-mar‘ , -fl-w 943“» structure on the

African continen£,/" ( j; ,7 ; i fa'i Houses of Worship are located? ' ‘ ' ' *

[Page 5]flowers of the garden

Words and Music: Mrs. Jerald Day

We are the flow—ers of God's gar - den,

Bright as the mor - ning, Fresh as the dawn.

Love-ly in diff'ren—ces, var — ied n love—li—ness.

We are the flow — ers of hu - man — — ty.

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'THE SCIENCE CORNER

How did yDUI rain gauge anfi'your barameter work opt? We'have heard from several young scientists who have conducted some very suecgssiul experiments with theins, The experiment in this iSSue is easy and fun to da. It has ta do with writing and heading Seerét messaggs.

-Sque32e_the jyice ftdm a frésh " lemon intc a cup or glass. 6._

Using a taoth pick, Write 9: print a few words on a piene @f cleah white paper.

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When the juiee dries; hold the words yéu wreté en the pager near an electric light bulb.

l '- l in ‘Al“‘<“"“ at‘- n‘.

It may take a fEW momentg £brn_ you tp tell, but wha; happgned?

NOW fihafi you can write seeret things,-why den'tiypu see if you can make up same good games for people to play. I Qan think of many really fun things to do for holiday games and parties, can't you?

[Page 7]

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[Page 18]

hoon—time‘. prayer

I bear Witness Om} God that Thou hast created. me. 1?: Know Thee and 'to worship Thee. I test if at'th’s Imment “Com powerlms mess and tothy might, 'to m pewter and 1‘01}!wa wealth. ‘ » There 18 nane ,e'r- God bvtThee, Help m Refit, me Self Subaxsfing

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[Page 19]

We certainly want to thank Mark interesting back

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19

[Page 20]7n

Here is a puzzle that will fool you if you're not careful. The nineteen Feasts can be found among the letters below. They can be read forward, backward, up, down, or diagonally. Draw a line around each and then check off on the list below. One example has been done for you. Good luck! Why don't you time yourself and then test a friend with another copy. Our thanks to Mrs. Nella Gustafson from Laconia, New Hampshire for this one.

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. GLORY ; WORDS KNOWLEDGE . SOVEREIGNTY . BEAUTY . PERFECTION ' POWER . DOMINION

GRANDEUR . NAMES . SPEECH . LOFTINESS

.. LIGHT . MIGHT . QUESTIONS

[Page 21]MII<E and JOE by Barbara Rodgers

it blew in his face and made his eyelashes and stray red hairs wet... and c01d! The snow danced before Mike's eyes, so that he a1most didn't see Joe coming towards him, down the sidewalkl

"Hi,Mike1”

"Hi , Joe E u

”Gee, you sure have a iot of freckles, Mike!"

“Gee, you sure have big feet, Joel Say how can you possibly see my freckies, with snowflakes pouring down in front of my face? Maybe I don't have so many freckles anymore...1"

"Weli, how can you see my feet when they're deep in a snowdrift? Maybe they SHRANKE”

Both boys iaughed. They aiways greeted each other the same way, snow or no snow; Mike's freckies and Joefs big feet were a neighborhood joke.

"What d' you want to do today?" Joe wondered. The probiem wouldn‘t be finding something to do — there was PUH-LENTY to do when it snowed! the probiem wouid be deciding among a1] the possibiiities!

[Page 22]"We11, first let's..." Mike started out rapidly, then stopped. "Gee, I don't know what to do firsti Let's walk, huh."

Mike turned and bent down, and before Joe knew what was happening NHAP! - he had a snowbaii — soft enough, but mighty coid! - dripping down the back of his neck.

"A11 right, freckle—face," Joe said good—naturediy. ”I see you

knew what you wanted to do first a1] aiongl Are you reaily ready to waik now?"

The two pals scuffed along in the snow, with time out for snowballthrowing--at trees and fences, fire hydrants and teiephone po1es--a10ng the way. The balls splatted out on the things they hit, 1eaving white patches of coldness.

"Did you know that no two snowfiakes are aiike?” Joe asked. ”And that each one has six sides?“

”Sure, sure," Mike retorted. "You aren't the only person in Mr. Young's science ciass, you knowl Look, though; catch some snow on your gioves and 100k — it IS pretty, isn't it? I think ú1 get out my magnifying giass when I get home and take a cioser 100k. And a dark cioth to catch the flakes on wouid heip, too. 'Think that's a good first thing to do today?”

Joe must have thought it was a good idea. ”We'd better stay outside," he advised, ”so the snow won't melt before we 100k at it."

About face! and the freckied-face, big—footed twosome headed for Mike's house.

"iHola!" a voice cailed. There was Juan, waiking slowly through the deepest pi1es of snow a1ong the edge of the sidewalk. He had a big grin on his face as he iifted his legs high and set his heavy boots down in the drifts. " Hola, amigos, isn't it wonderful? I mean the snow, isn't it wonderfui?”

Juan was from Puerto Rico, and there in the tropics he had never seen snow! "I wish a1] my friends in Mayaguez cou1d have a city fu11 of snow to play in — for a day, at least - it IS wonderfuil"

22

[Page 23]Juan picked up some snow and rubbed it on his face! Mike and Joe had to Iaugh at this. "Come on, amigo," Joe invited. "Come to Mike's house with us, and we'll show you more about snow.”

Now, three red—nosed, snow-sprinkied friends trudged down the wa1k together. A snowpiow crept down the street and passed them, ciearing thw way for cars and trocks. A Chickadee fiew in front of them, to a wire suet-hoider attached to a tree by someone who knew snowy days iike this were coming.

”Ooofi” Mike compiained as he plopped on his front steps shortiy. "Walking in that stuff makes me tired. 'Need to restl..."

"What a sissy," Joe teased.

“Sissy?” Juan repeated questioningiy. With a laugh, Mike expiained what a sissy was...and made Joe te11 Juan he had been kidding. Mike didn't like being caiied a sissy!

The afternoon went quickiy as Mike, Joe, and Juan enjoyed the snow. The magnifying giass revealed to them amazing six—sided patterns of icy beauty... and the shoveis Mike's mother stuck in their hands showed them that snow can mean hard work!

But Mom's loud cai], "Boysi” after they'd cleared the steps and waiks - and were just about a1] done in — took them running to the kitchen door. "Snow ice cream for an industrious team!”

”Hey, my Mom's a poet!” Mike teased, and his mother 1aughed. She handed each boy a dish of sweet snow; she had mixed it with sugar, milk, and a 1itt1e vaniiia, to make a special treat.

...And the dishes were emptied aimost as fast as the sun meits the first snow of the year! Juan smacked his lips and repeated, fbr the umpteenth time, "It sure is wonderfuii"

23

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[Page 25]COLOR IS ONLY SKIN DEEP

Do you recall the day he was born,

On that magical Mbnday morn?

His mother held him so tight,

Partly of happiness, partly of fright.

She was happy fbr each child

That came to earth.

She was scared just to think What his Zifé would be worth.

She remembered her past Zifé of hardship and pain,

WbuZd her child have to 90 Through it all again?

Her reflection was tearful, Tender and mild,

As she looked at her beautiful,. Tiny black child. ’ The child seemed to sense As he whimpered in his sleep, His mother whispered to herself;

“It’s only skin deep."

This poem was entered in a Negro History Week competition at a‘

local junior high school in Muskegon, Michigan by a fourteen year old

by Peggy Versalle

white Bahá’í student. She was awarded first place in the poetry divi sion. Thank you Peggy.