Beside Still Waters YESTERDAY I sat by the sea shore and watched the waves. Little waves they were, rhythmically rising and falling as the summer breezes hovered near, urging them on, until they tumbled boisterously over the rocky shore, bubbling merrily as they were forced to recede into the... Show moreBeside Still Waters YESTERDAY I sat by the sea shore and watched the waves. Little waves they were, rhythmically rising and falling as the summer breezes hovered near, urging them on, until they tumbled boisterously over the rocky shore, bubbling merrily as they were forced to recede into the emerald sea. Little waves, only little waves frolicking in the sunshine —. 1I! it is But I am not the only one who loves the sea. Long years ago a company of men were standing on the shores of a sea. They also watched the little waves come rolling coyly toward them, only to be tossed back with many a merry bubble as they hit the sandy shore. They were only little waves, little waves frolicking in the sunshine —. The men put out to sea. It was only a little sea and the waves were only little waves. They sailed on into the golden sunset, until the little waves, the merry bubbling waves that frolicked in the sunshine, were gone. The night breezes blew across the waters, and the sea heaved her tired bosom in response. Higher the waves rose and higher until the angry waters foamed and frothed as they dashed up over the sides of the boat. The men were very frightened. Only One, who having closed His weary eyes in sleep, now being wakened by the calling of His mates, was calm and unafraid. He raised His Hand out o’er the stormy sea and suddenly a strange peace and quiet prevailed. is it it Tonight the sea is angry as I sit upon its shore. Its white-capped waves dash furiously against the rocks. The little waves, the friendly little waves, are gone. I am so weary, weary of its never-ceasing turbulence, its ruth- less fury. I beat my breast and cry aloud in agony of soul! The storm continues still to rage. I hide my face —I am afraid! “0, Master, still the storm!” I cry. And as I lift my tired, ach- ing head, I look upon a miracle — the sea is calm! MILDRED RYAN, ’40 3 DIAL Show less
Hit the Line Hard N one of his famous statements President Theodore Roosevelt once used a phrase as follows: “In life as in a football game, the principle to follow is: ‘Hit the line hard.’ ” You cannot get very far in life unless you are dead in earnest, unless you want a thing sufficiently to... Show moreHit the Line Hard N one of his famous statements President Theodore Roosevelt once used a phrase as follows: “In life as in a football game, the principle to follow is: ‘Hit the line hard.’ ” You cannot get very far in life unless you are dead in earnest, unless you want a thing sufficiently to throw every ounce of energy that you own into its gaining. Pasteur was one of the greatest successes of all time. He hit the line hard for all in which he believed—and thus he brought his ideas for the saving of human life out of the darkness and disbelief of those who laughed at his faith into the light. I i I You cannot be feeble in your attempts to master life and hope to win. I have seen many a football team gain ground steadily down the field only to be held at the last yard needed to give them the victory! With victory or defeat awaiting, the line has to be hit hard by both teams — but the one hitting it hardest, wins. Life isn’t easy. It’s a hard game. But if you do your best, there is no reason why you should be discouraged. Failure under such circumstances isn’t defeat! Defeat is something that happens in— side of one. There are those who never know that they are defeated. They make up the great of this earth—the heroes and heroines— whether recorded in song and story or not. II # *3 Objectives in this life are absolutely essential if your full share of happiness is expected. You have to keep hitting the line hard day after day, never losing sight of the thing you wish most of all. There are plenty of people with brains of a high order, but it takes more than mere brains to achieve. Within those brains must be a living, indomitable will backed by a heart on fire —one that will respond when the will says: “Hit the line hard!” VERNON BLIKSTAD, ’42 DIAL 4 Show less
The High Chair There by the table it stands. A little child's high chair. Empty. I must get dinner for Ben. Last week. at this time. I helped a curly-headed tot into that chair. While I worked. he sat and watched. And waited for Daddy. Soon he will be here. So pale. so tender. so brave. We shall... Show moreThe High Chair There by the table it stands. A little child's high chair. Empty. I must get dinner for Ben. Last week. at this time. I helped a curly-headed tot into that chair. While I worked. he sat and watched. And waited for Daddy. Soon he will be here. So pale. so tender. so brave. We shall smile. be cheerful for each other's sake. When all the time there is that ache. That anguish that we share. They tell us time will heal the wound. We must live on When death. it seems. would sweeter be. Oh. God. you know what it is To have a Son. and see Him die. Help us to bear our sorrow. There by the table it stands. A little child's high chair. Empty. MABEL NELSON, ’41 DIAL Show less
On Being Tall “MY, Inez, but you’re getting to be a great big girl!” That's all I’ve heard for the last ten years. All the friends of the family invariably have made that remark each time they have seen rne. Yes, it irks me, but an instinctive respect for my neck has al- ways prevented me from... Show moreOn Being Tall “MY, Inez, but you’re getting to be a great big girl!” That's all I’ve heard for the last ten years. All the friends of the family invariably have made that remark each time they have seen rne. Yes, it irks me, but an instinctive respect for my neck has al- ways prevented me from doing anything rash. I know that I’m tall, they wouldn’t always have to remind me of it. But I get even with them by mentally choking each and every one. Really, I haven’t minded so much because I shall always be able to look down on them —or at least on most of them. Being tall has its advantages, too—I’ve always been able to reach the cookie jar and I’ve had no trouble at all in spying Christmas presents about the middle of November. Another thing, while I rather envied my playmates who always wore “boughten” dresses I took pride in that mine at least were individual. No six or eight or ten other girls came out in dresses like mine. No sir, and that means a lot to a girl. Iflwgwhmeummmdowrdmlwmkofmygklfikmk—a sort of Mutt and Jeff combination. But somehow I forgot about my height except when these family friends came along. My girl friends didn’t seem to care. And I didn’t either, at least not much, because I played center on our basketball team for two years and that was a coveted position. Of course when I got to be a Senior in High School and class play time came around I did sort of want to play the part of the heroine (what girl doesn’t?) but I knew that I was a good two inches taller than the leading man so I tried out for the part of the eccentric old landlady. I got it and I guess I had the last laugh because the heroine got scarlet fever the day before the play so our dramatics teacher had to play the part. Guess who got the newspaper writeup? \‘ot the heroine! She got scarlet fever. Not the dramatics coach. She was just a fill in —. (incidentally, she got a $10 raise). Yes, none other than that great big girl — she got it. Being the tallest of a group I usually had to turn out the light and find my way in the dark, but then I was a big girl and big girls aren‘t afraid — at least not very much. DIAL 6 Show less
I’ll admit, I have always had to coil up in a rumble seat and I can’t comfortably stretch out in bed without pulling out the covers at the bottom but I think there are enough advantages to make up for it. I’ll grant that I do make a good target for teachers. I always have had to give reports and... Show moreI’ll admit, I have always had to coil up in a rumble seat and I can’t comfortably stretch out in bed without pulling out the covers at the bottom but I think there are enough advantages to make up for it. I’ll grant that I do make a good target for teachers. I always have had to give reports and such but then I would just think of how noble it was for me to be shielding some poor small person from going through lots of uninteresting, dusty old books and from carrying heavy old encyclopedias. And then I would be able to grin and face the class. Now that I’ve finally finished growing up and people can no longer remark about my height they have reworded their theme song so it now reads, “My, Inez, but you’re getting fat!”—but somehow it doesn’t “phase” me. It slides off my back like this spring slush off my waterproof shoes (25 cents at any of the bet- ter shoe stores). The reason? Ever heard of Psychology? It’s a good practical course. You learn lots. INEZ HINRICHS, ’40 Bathed in Moonlight OLDEN beams from the full Hawaiian moon streamed down on the broad banks of Waikiki Beach. Tall palms cast their broken shadows over lovers reclining on white benches. Carefree strollers roamed about and dreamily gazed at their surrounding beauty. The glistening sand crunched beneath their light tread. Rippling waters dashed themselves in waves against the endless shore. The crest of each sparkling wave mingled and danced with the moonbeams. Innumerable ripples flashed here and there. These waters reflected the beauty of the stately palm trees as clearly as a mirror. In the distance shimmering sights from a home-returning ship could be seen. A solemn hush had fallen. The glory of the evening was enchantingly beautiful. EVELYN OLSON, ’41 7 DIAL ‘ L \‘s Z'j-A.‘ 1:111...“ “a. Show less
My Cross ENG years ago a stately tree grew on the mountain side. Sun- shine and rain nourished it day after day, year after year, until one day a woodcutter stood before it, axe in hand. “This tree will make good boards,” he said. “I’ll use them to build a wall.” And the tree was felled. It was... Show moreMy Cross ENG years ago a stately tree grew on the mountain side. Sun- shine and rain nourished it day after day, year after year, until one day a woodcutter stood before it, axe in hand. “This tree will make good boards,” he said. “I’ll use them to build a wall.” And the tree was felled. It was very good timber; it made very fine boards. But they were never used for a wall. Cruel hands fastened the timber to- gether with a spike. They made of it — a cross. A cross of wood, it was a crude and ugly thing. And yet even today, unnoticed by the busy world, it stands bleakly outlined against the sky. Centuries come and centuries go and still it stands, defying time. Unusual wood, you say? But that’s because you haven’t seen the cross. I saw it once, and as I gazed, it burned itself upon my breast and left its imprint on my heart. This cross for me has now become the key to Heaven’s gate, for on it all my sins were nailed. MILDRED RYAN, ’40 DIAL 8 Show less
Revelation AWN on the earth! There is the sun yonder peeping over the green of the trees and the lilac bushes. How brilliant the dew as it dances with the splendor of diamonds in the sun. Look, there’s not a cloud in the sky, only a deep, bright blue overhead. But towards noon a cloud arises on... Show moreRevelation AWN on the earth! There is the sun yonder peeping over the green of the trees and the lilac bushes. How brilliant the dew as it dances with the splendor of diamonds in the sun. Look, there’s not a cloud in the sky, only a deep, bright blue overhead. But towards noon a cloud arises on the horizon! It’s not very large; surely it will disappear in the sun’s rays! But no, it gathers density and size as it approaches the sun. Now the cloud has hidden the sun. Not even a glimmer of light escapes from the sun’s original brightness. All earth becomes dark- ened and questioning. Soon lightning flashes and thunders roar! Rain falls in torrents and beats upon the earth. Where is the sun? Has it in fear and cowardice slipped away? Not a murmur does the earth make but receives the storm with patience. Only an occasional sigh of helplessness is heard among the trees as they yield themselves into the care of their Creator. Very soon the sun comes out. Its former radiance seems dim in comparison to this splendor. It shines smilingly on the refreshed earth. Despair not, oh soul; there is for you too a more brilliant Sun! Soon? — — Soon! JONETTE TINSETH, ’41 lncarnation Incarnate God. what wonders can compare To truths about Thyself? \X/hat heated dare? \X/hat heavenly provocations drive men To believe Thee as Thou art? \X/ond'rous ken! That He who torm'd the universe and holds. By words. the planets in their course. unfolds The heart of God in but a speck of dust— A man! GILBERT A. JENSEN, ’40 9 DIAL Show less
Imagination, You’re a Liar! IMAGINATION, you‘re a liar! That's my conclusion as I near three score and ten years in your company. How deceptive you have been, and what distortions of facts you have made! I recall one time that you inveigled my young and simple mind to meander out into the barren... Show moreImagination, You’re a Liar! IMAGINATION, you‘re a liar! That's my conclusion as I near three score and ten years in your company. How deceptive you have been, and what distortions of facts you have made! I recall one time that you inveigled my young and simple mind to meander out into the barren desert. There you made me to believe that I was to be a discoverer of a new world like Columbus and to be heralded by my classmates as their hero. You didn't show me how to reach that desert, and, when I tried to find it the next day, I was most unsuccessful. And to top it off, my dad licked me for running away from home—that you hadn’t told me! Then I remember one warm day in spring, when the teacher spoke of personal and impersonal, relative and demonstrative pro- nouns, you beckoned me to follow into your land of mysteries and thrills; and, I must admit it, I was glad to go. This time you took me to the old swimming hole; that was excellent. I donned my birthday suit, having flung aside all else, and was prepared to be the first fellow into the pool that season, when—you might have guessed it, old Miss Allen jerked me from my desk to my chagrin and consternation. So deceptive you were! Often you called me to walk beneath azure skies with some seraphic creature who smiled upon me and in whose presence I was poised and sedate. We were of minds atuned to lofty ideas, of wills focused upon a common end, and of hearts closely knit to the other—so you portrayed it. But when my faint heart had been goaded beyond that hearts can stand and my stammering tongue well trained to speak the message to my queen—alas, nothing but confusion came of it. How you have fooled me! I thought that I had mastered your intrigues and could flee from those whose aftermath would leave me in abysmal disap- pointments; yet just yesterday, when I am so near to three score and ten years, you seduced me again. Not only did we travel in space but in time as well. I was young again—an explorer in a strange land, a lad in the old swimming hole, and a manly lover being admired by an enchanting beauty. What a long, sweet lie you told me! Ah, what a liar you are, Imagination. You have made me to DIAL IO Show less
walk in the hottest of hells and the holiest of heavens; you have made me to sizzle in huge caldrons in dark, deep pits and to gaze upon the gates of pearl and the crystal sea; and you have brought to my ear the weeping and groaning, the sighing, and the grinding of teeth, and the harmonics of... Show morewalk in the hottest of hells and the holiest of heavens; you have made me to sizzle in huge caldrons in dark, deep pits and to gaze upon the gates of pearl and the crystal sea; and you have brought to my ear the weeping and groaning, the sighing, and the grinding of teeth, and the harmonics of the celestial throng bowing before the Lamb. So you have led me about. Imagination, you’re a liar — and a good one! GILBERT JENSEN, ’40 Lazy Luke H: yells of fire came when I war to bed. Ah would not lay to bed an cover up an sleep. Not me. for ah got some book larneng an am smart. I'd throw da blankets off an let de fire wharm me. Or if a car come right to me. Ah would not run to dat dhere curb. Not me. no sir. ah know da law. I'd stan like some great general an hol ma groun. Or it a tornado come like a wiss. An da storm cell war fixt. Then would ah run just like a rat and tire me out? Not me no how. ah got insurance now. It sum gun man done order me to work. Den would ah work it he said that he'd shoot? No sir. not me. l'se gwin ta Heven when ah dies. 50 wha then should ah work when ah can rest in Hev'n? MERRIL WESTERGRIN, ’42 II DIAL LLrus—w v- ~91 mus-n... an 2—- Show less
Humble Yet Great AS we view the struggling mass of humanity we are constantly brought in contact with so-called “great men” — those whose influence is felt throughout the entire civilization; men who blaze trails and in whose steps others gladly follow; leaders whose dynamic personalities... Show moreHumble Yet Great AS we view the struggling mass of humanity we are constantly brought in contact with so-called “great men” — those whose influence is felt throughout the entire civilization; men who blaze trails and in whose steps others gladly follow; leaders whose dynamic personalities electrify nations. These people are classed in a group all by themselves as a distinct and revered few. Yet, as we see mankind, who really is great? In our day, powerful leaders such as Hitler, Mussolini, Stalin, and others have risen, usurping dictatorial powers over nations of people. Millions go at their bidding, and nations fear their pow- erful iron hand. Civilization itself seemingly hangs in a balance, waiting for these men to decide. The great war which generally is attributed to a few leaders progresses because no one will yield. Yes, these dictators seem great. But if we raise this question, “Why and how are these men strong?” They simply won their position at the expense of others. Humanity must suffer to fur- ther their selfish plans. Few are benefited by their actions. Under a righteous cloak they continue wrecking out injustices and heart— ache wherever they go. The eyes of the world focus upon them waiting in “fear and trembling.” Directly opposite to this group of dictators, we find another which is also great. We find many in our day, and History tells us of important men who have done much good for the benefit of Humanity. Countless numbers of scientists such as Pasteur, Har- vey, Galileo and others have spent lifetimes discovering new things for the use of man. Without their findings we would be lost. Today these men are constantly making new findings which will guard man from further suffering by the ravages of disease. Others are providing enjoyment for everyone by great speeches, immortal masterpieces of literature, music, and art. All these will be remembered throughout the ages for their sterling work in the interest of humanity. Time does not permit us to go into detail but the examples we have seen are of the caliber we often call “great.” Yet, these men are honored, loved and their memories are cherished by everyone. They receive their reward in part. They, too, are only humans. Many in our day go about unnoticed by the rush of man. Those are the more common people who do their work without heralded DIAL 12 Show less
glory — men who do the menial tasks of life. One man in his little corner is faithfully carrying on his work unnoticed and without reward. It is such a person who truly is great. He who isn’t too “big” and yet “big enough” to cope with the lesser problems and solve them, and is willing to do his... Show moreglory — men who do the menial tasks of life. One man in his little corner is faithfully carrying on his work unnoticed and without reward. It is such a person who truly is great. He who isn’t too “big” and yet “big enough” to cope with the lesser problems and solve them, and is willing to do his little bit for the good of all with no honor is genuinely outstanding. Many are outstanding in the eyes of the world today, but he who truly is great is the true man who arises out of these circum- stances—he who is not too proud to undertake the tasks which are without honor and without raise. P EVERALD STROM, ’42 Can’t You Hear? Can't you hear the bugles blowing. Calling tor your strongest sons? Can't you hear the nations waring. Belching death from ten-inch guns? How they clamour tor dominion. For the praise and wealth of earth! How they tear from man his pinion. Made to soar by God's rebirth! Will they still despise relations Made in youth's most golden hour? Will they blast the hope of nations For some tyrant mad with pow'r? Ah. unholy. cruel monster. Growing with each passing age! Ah. thou young-lite-contiscator. Making lite but jealous rage! May the King of kings forever Thrust thee from His righttul place! May His love and peace torever From men's hearts all hate displace! Can't you hear— hear the conquest? Sin in glory marches on! Can't it stir our slumbering protest? Rouse it e'er our hope is gone! GILBERT A. JENSEN, ’40 13 DIAL Show less
Dreams 0. dreams are nothing else but dreams. you say: Dreams never did come true as they were dreamt. Tho oft the heart with many a brave attempt Has tried to make them so since dawn ot day. Yet there are dreams not meant to disappear. Whose truth is just begun in earthly clay. That could not... Show moreDreams 0. dreams are nothing else but dreams. you say: Dreams never did come true as they were dreamt. Tho oft the heart with many a brave attempt Has tried to make them so since dawn ot day. Yet there are dreams not meant to disappear. Whose truth is just begun in earthly clay. That could not reach their end on this life's way. For they could never find fulfillment here. Time could not make them true: so still dream on. ln visions yet more wondrous than betOre. With light that beckons thee torevermore. Till atter dream-time comes the perfect dawn. P.}&.SVEEGGEN DIAL r4 Show less
I5 The Supplicant Fearest thou thy faith will fail thee \X/hen temptations strong assail thee? Fearest thou thy strength will waver And thy timid heart will quaver. When the hosts of Satan meet thee With their sole aim to defeat thee; Thus to quench the tiny spark of life that burns within thy... Show moreI5 The Supplicant Fearest thou thy faith will fail thee \X/hen temptations strong assail thee? Fearest thou thy strength will waver And thy timid heart will quaver. When the hosts of Satan meet thee With their sole aim to defeat thee; Thus to quench the tiny spark of life that burns within thy breast? Child of love. be not afrighted Though your soul may seem benighted. Though you feel by God forsaken. And your faith has all been shaken: Shaken as a weak foundation Which cannot withstand vibration But is doomed to fall in ruin when the storms of life appear. Listen. child whose heart is bleeding. Listen. I am interceding: I who know the ways of Satan Have not my own child forsaken. Stand before the world's temptation For I still make supplication. Supplication that the faith within my heart may fail thee not. Yea. I know thy human frailty. Know thy flesh is bound to fail thee: I know all thy inclinations. I have faced all thy temptations. I have trod the path before thee l have won the victory for thee. Therefore claim the perfect victory that l offer through My Name. MILDRED RYAN, ’40 DIAL 55’“ 4 72" 7E1 Show less
Milking a Cow I AM a city slicker born and bred, but I pride myself on a well- rounded and cosmopolitan background. Unlike the ordinary pavement-pounder, I—and I say it in humble modesty—I have seen a cow! I know that milk, that precious fluid that builds big muscles and strong bones, is not a... Show moreMilking a Cow I AM a city slicker born and bred, but I pride myself on a well- rounded and cosmopolitan background. Unlike the ordinary pavement-pounder, I—and I say it in humble modesty—I have seen a cow! I know that milk, that precious fluid that builds big muscles and strong bones, is not a patented product but that it is manufac- tured somewhere within the anatomy of a cow. And from per- sonal observation I will stake my reputation that a cow is a quad- ruped of the bovine clan, being the female of the specie. Twice a day the milk is stripped from Frau Cow who patiently utters no complaint. I know. I even milked a cow once. “Milking” is a serious business which requires careful planning and at least a working knowledge of what it’s all about. Being a temperamental creature, she practically insists that she be milked from her right side. Generations of cows have been milked from the right side, so there’s a touch of sentiment there, too. Two pieces of equipment are necessary and essential to the novice, and experienced, would-be milker: first, a pail — to be used as a temporary container for the milk; and second, a one—legged stool—absolutely required, though Heaven knows why—it's an art in itself to balance them. Armed with the proper “props” and located at the humble crea- ture’s starboard side, you will find four spigots located on the lower left-hand corner. Place the pail between your knees, grasp one of these spigots in each hand, and squeeze. Nothing happens? Maybe it’s your grip. “If at first you don’t succeed—” try one hand at a time. Start at the top with your thumb and fore-finger, and squeeze as you rapidly roll each finger down—using much the same technique as you would in squeezing out a wet rag. Continue the operation with both hands and in half an hour I’ll absolutely guarantee that you should have, in addition to ten numb and aching digits, at least a half an inch of scrummy look- ing liquid in the bottom of the pail, and a sadly bewildered cow. Science comes to the rescue. I’ll wager that you will join me in outspoken praise and whole-hearted commendation for that won- DIAL [6 was»...— .,A~4_,..~_e.a.;. 4. Show less
der of the age, that time and labor saving boon to all amateur farmers,—the milking machine. The cows are once more con- tented, and milk for thousands of thirsty throats is definitely as- sured. ROBERT O. LINDBERG, ’43 Release lntent upon my thoughts. one day I walked Alone. unseeing. unaware... Show moreder of the age, that time and labor saving boon to all amateur farmers,—the milking machine. The cows are once more con- tented, and milk for thousands of thirsty throats is definitely as- sured. ROBERT O. LINDBERG, ’43 Release lntent upon my thoughts. one day I walked Alone. unseeing. unaware That near my side a battle was at stake For someone laden down with care. Then suddenly. as if my spirit sensed His strife, I lifted up my head: And thus upon his countenance beheld A look of worry. shame. and dread. _ 'Twas then I saw the stranger turn aside. As though by sudden thought inspired To seek within a nearby church the peace And rest his troubled soul desired. The minutes passed: in wonder I remained Without the friendly churchyard gate. Aroused from selfish revery to note Another sinner's woeful state. Yet while i stood in quiet thoughtfulness. The door unclosed. and there appeared Upon the threshold one whose joyous face Betrayed a conscience newly cleared. It seemed my spirit too was lifted up With his. who had obtained release: And. moving on. I silently thanked God That two lost souls had found their peace. MILDRED OUDAL, ’40 I7 DIAL ._'_- -‘ - am: _ .69.; unreal; fiféfi'fifinfiflfij" .uw. .Iafi‘? Show less