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Page 23 text:
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'Ist Place Short Story Forgotten Suddenly the dull, gray sky of the morning be- came illuminated with the golden rays of the lazy old sun as it climbed from its bed of purple mountains with their snowy white night caps tilted saucily on their tops. The valley began to awaken, birds merrily chirped a good morning song as they preened themselves in the toasty warm sunshine. As the sun's rays silently stole into each tiny :orner of the valley, they came upon a farm house nestled in a patchwork quilt of fields and rolling hills. Beyond the house, a clumsy day-old colt wobbled about on its spindly legs looking very comical indeed! A young girl of about sixteen sat on an old gray boulder staring deiectedly at her legs projecting out ri front of her like two sticks with the steel braces shining in the sunlight. As if the colt had sensed her deiection, he came up and looking into her eyes seemed to say, Come walk Nith me. My legs are wobbly too, but together we :an make it. For a moment the girl's dark eyes lighted up, but he lightness quickly died away as she said, No, I :ouldn't do it for I have not walked for twelve years and shall never walk again. Even the best experts tave said so. But as she looked into the colt's eyes and saw the Jleading and determination, she began to weaken. 'I wonder-yes I- She broke oFf suddenly and then is if inspired by a great Light, she said, Colty, I think could do it. Do you suppose that it would be mossible? As the girl talked she began to unbuckle the straps if her braces and soon had both of them off. With he aid of her crutches she stood up and having cast hem away also, she stood alone for the first time ince her affliction. Her body was tense and rigid, but he knew that she must relax. Finally she was ready to begin. She put her hand In the colt's back to steady herself and together they ook one step-two steps, three-and down they went, .imbling in the green grass. The girl was seized with ianic. What if she had iniured her legs again? She soon gained control over herself and after everal minutes of feeling her legs, relief spread over er for as far as she could tell, her legs were all ight. Now, Colty, she said, you must help me get p again and we must be more careful. After many tries she found herself on her feet nce more, but being very tired the colt and she falked slowly back to the boulder to rest. Having ested a few minutes, they tried again. This they did all day taking time out only to eat. That afternoon, as the sun began to grow weary and sink toward its bed of purple, the last thing that it saw was a young girl whose radiance seemed even brighter than its own rays, walking very slowly to- wards home using iust one crutch. And by the old gray boulder lay two steel braces-forgotten. -by Nadine Smith lst Place Poem Fire in the Canyon The sun hangs hot in a brassy sky, The thirsty earth is dusty dry, The stream runs warm on the canyon floor. Oh, Lord! ls it ever going to rain anymore? As man and beast alike perspire, They watch in fear for signs of fire. Soon comes the dreaded smell of smoke- Beasts pant of air, men curse and choke, Green mountains fade in a murky pall, Yon sultry sun is an orange ball. Then belches for perdition's door Black swirling clouds with crackling roar! Red flames rush on in a blinding sheet, Blasting all with withering heat, Fire fiends rage in horrible hate As tall trees bow before their fate. Grim canyon walls become a tomb, While wild things flee from certain doom. Poor scorched fiesh leaves its horrid smell, God deliver us all from this blazing hell! Soon darkness falls-the fire is past, The tardy rain has come at last! Smoking stumps leave charred gray bones, Through blackened snags, the night wind moans. The years go by-now time has fiown- Young forests stand here, new upgrown. Rotting logs mark an ancient burn- Shy forest creatures soon return. Yon stream runs cool on the canyon floor, Oh! Please, God, let the fire fiends come no more. - -by Lynne Palmer
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Page 22 text:
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Band FIRST ROW: Nadine Smith, Melanie Dudley, Janet Lewis, Carol Ham- SECOND ROW: Raymond Hiertager, Sam Branson, Alice Skillen, mond, Susan Mathews, Ardith Smith, Barbie Rich, Richard Gray, Jesse Bigham, Jack Taber, Walter Bilow, Beverlee Coatney, Robin Sharon Fifer, Rayelyn Smith. Fisher, Joanne VanLindt, Ernest Bigham, Mr. Morgen, Bill Lewis, Patsy Ortiz, Bill Watrous, Diana Munson, Bob Martin. Chorus FIRST ROW: Munson, Sue Kramer, Judy Skillen, Nadine Smith. SECOND ROW: Judy Stoutenburg, Kathleen Johnson, Norma Lee Atkinson, Norma Tozier, Barbara Miller, Novella Corbett, Loraine Lewis. Donna Kramer, Lynne Palmer, Cena Golder, Diana 43 L I THIRD ROW: Karol Skillen, Janet Wade, Carolyn Hughes, Deppen, Robin Fisher, Judy VanLindt, Beverlee Coatney, Sharon Fifer, Shirley Cooke. FOURTH ROW: Mr. Morgen, John Johnson, Bill Watrous, Jerry Campbell, Bob Martin, Bill Stacher, Roy McEwen, Bob Gilmore. This page sponsored by: RAY'S SERVICE GAS - OIL - TIRES Etna, California COCA-COLA BOTTLING COMPANY Fred J. Meamber and Sons Yreka MI. Shasta N
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Page 24 text:
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lst Place Essay The Religion of Nature And He created man in His own image. This bit of Bible Scripture has been lodged in my mind for some time, and it took only the suggested topic of ReIigion of Nature to set me thinking. The fol- lowing idea is not new. I think many poets and philosophers had a similar idea. Perhaps to others it may seem ridiculous, perhaps it will seem so to me sometime . . . Still I think it is worth some thought. Nature is God. This is the startling realization that came to me as I watched the crystal-clear brook bubbling over the rocks on its tumbling descent. It was so like a ioyously happy child that I could almost picture one there. A spring shower-and then the glorious sunshine- causes one of Nature's most beautiful sights-the rain- bow. This seems to me to be not unlike that strange human emotion known as love-violent as a rain, gentle as the sun, and beautiful as a rainbow. The wind, the symbol of freedom, blowing through one's hair as he surveys a peaceful valley, causes to well up in one's heart the same patriotic bravery that inspired that rugged little Continental Army at Bunker Hill, the Marines at Iwo Jima, and the heroes of Heart- break Ridge in Korea. Could this not be God's way of inciting that inspiration? The thunderstorm at its height with the lightning flashing and the thunder crashing-is It not like the sight of an angry man-or perhaps even a man insane, screaming out against all the world? And does not the slow drizzle of rain seem to be like the depression one feels in a bad moment? Just as the slow rain depresses, does not a beautiful sun- rise or a sky filled with stars seem the most perfect answer to al prayer of hope? A prayer that tomorrow will be a better day than today, or that some more will be accomplished toward World Peace, that the next generation will have a fuller, better life than the one we now enioy, that our children for perhaps our children's childrenj will never know the meaning of, or see, or feel the terror and devastating effects of th Thing known as war. These are some of the thoughts that run throug my mind as I look at a clear sky filled with stars, se the sun sink behind the horizon in the West, or iu walk through the fields, feeling nearer to God becaus when one knows Nature he knows God, and with th bit of Bible Scripture quoted at the start of this pape in mind, I say, if one really knows himself he wi know God. -by Lee Wad 2nd Place Poem Ballad of the Sea There was a maid with lips of red And eyes of azure blue. She wore a scarf upon her head, With curls peeking through. Once when a fog did cover the bay And her lover went to sea, She looked into the darkness gray And said, Remember me. He told her of a distant land, Where riches he would gleen, A diamond for her pretty hand And silks of richest sheen. But the ship now his beneath a rock Of the cold, cold bay, And a roaring ocean seems to mock His words of yesterday. And often I have heard it said, When the fog drifts noiselessly, There goes a maid with a golden head To gaze-upon the sea. -by Patrica Earne
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