Paris High School - Chronicle Yearbook (South Paris, ME)

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THE CHRONICLE 29 Koscubannia interrupted her thoughts. Mom, Debbie asked hesitantly, where is our old family Bible? A puzzled looked crossed Mrs. Kos- cubannia's face. Then her glance fell upon the painting and an understand- ing smile replaced her puzzled ex- pression. In a few moments she return- ed, laboiiously dusting the old black Book, and handed it to her daughter. From that day on a familiar sight in the Koscubannia household to any visitor was a motionless figure deeply involved in a book, the Bible. Perhaps they wondered why she didn't read light love stories, which seemed to be so popular among the teenagers, or thrilling mystery murder stories to pass away the long lonely hours. She wished fervently that she could tell all teenagers and all adults exactly why. If only they too would give the Bible at least a try, they might surprise themselves and discov- er that the tales of kings and rulers, tender love stories, blood curdling murders and mysteries to be solved are unequal to- any they had read or would ever encounter. Even though Debbie could not satisfy that deep, longing desire with- in her, she influenced her family and friends immeasurably. It was now the family custom' to gather around the battered old bed for an evening Bible story. Soon neighbors stopped by to listen humbly to this brave little in- valid miss. They learned of the many incidents in Jesus life, such as His temptations, the miracles He perform- ed, and His great teachings. They began to believe in Jesus and seek daily strength and forgiveness through Him. The lives of Biblical persons un- folded before their eyes, revealing mysteries of their o-wn hearts, imper- fections in their own cha1'acters and personalities. The neighbors would re- luctantly leave each evening carrying with then a new thought or verse to guide them more steadily through the trials and temptations of the following day. Debbie awoke from a fitful dream Tuesday morning just as the sun peer- ed over the roof of the house next door and flooded her room with warm, friendly sunshine. For a moment she tried to determine the cause of the turmoil within her. She caught her breath sharply as she remembered that this was the day Dr. Hommus had promised to visit her and give the results of the examinations she had been subject to the preceding week. One of the duties which seems to a doctor most difficult to fulfill is that of facing a person or family with hope, trust and expectancy evident in their every movement only to dash those hopes with the boulder of life called reality. Yet this was the only turn Dr. Hommus could take that Tuesday morning. He could only offer Debbie one flickering match in her new world of darkness. In a series of three or four majo-r operations there was a slight possibility of her recovery. There would be many more months of pain, expense, tests, examinations and even then, possible failure. It was her decision and hers alone. The bright sunlight in Debbie's room seemed only to reflect the agoni- zing truth of Dr. Hommus' words. The tension, fears and constant pain of the past months num'bed her brain and she only nodded, unspeaking until they left her alone. Only then did her body tremble and shake with the sobs of a despairing heart. Debbie turned her head toward the painting and through blinded eyes she murmered, Oh Jesus, if only You were here.

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28 'TH E CHRONICLE was in a hurry and just plain didn't shoot me, he said with a smile. 'ICO-me now, I said, Surely he would have had time for one more bullet if he had wanted to, was he a friend of yours? No, he was not, I had never seen him before that time. Well then, what was it you said to him? I asked. Not much, he said, I heard the shots and saw him come running. I knew that if I ran he would shoot me. I was so close he could not have missed, so I just stood there trusting my luck. He nearly ran right over me, but I stood there. What did yo-u say to him, Pan- cho? I almost shouted. Because I have a gift for such things, Senor, I knew just what to say, he said. Pancho, I said, What was it you said ? Can you spare a few cents for a blind man? And you know, Senor, he gave me fifty cents. -Robert Moorehead English IV AND HE SAID UNTO HER COME Debbie Koscubannia'sl tiny frail fi- gure looked lost in the big, old-fash- ioned four-posted bed in which she lay. The summer breeze from an open window blew a loose piece of faded wallpaper softly back and forth. Her eyes followed its motion, yet not seeing it. Now at the age of fourteen the doctors reported there was little chance of her recovery from the ma- lady which had attacked her so- sud- denly. The decision was not final, of course. There were to be more tire- some, tedious hours of examination, then one blunt sentence which would be the turning point, the juncture in her life. Debbie's eyes now rested upon a large picture hanging on the wall. How well she recalled the day her plump, cheerful other had presented it to her with a glow of unconcealed joy upon her face. Oh, Mom! she had cried. Yo-u shouldn't buy me anything. You know we can't afford- Hush, she had answered softly but firmly. I just happened to stop off at the Higgin's barn sale down the street. As I was ready to leave I saw this beautiful picture, thrown in a lump of old so-ap and books. I truly don't think my conscience would have allowed me to walk away without it, she added with a tinkling laugh. Debbie sighed and murmured an oft repeated thankful prayer. The twenty- five by twenty gold-painted frame enclosed an inspiring painting of Jesus Christ sitting on a bench in a flower garden. His feet rested on the lush, carpet-green grass, so much different from the dusty roads of Galilee which he had trod. Surrounding Him were a variety of attractive flowers, display- ing the glory of God's beauty in its fullest. And best of all three young children were gathered around Himg listening intently as He told them of His love and of the Kingdom. On Jesus lap sat the younger sister, pointing to His scarred hand and ask- ing in child like curiosity, What hap- pened to Your hand ? Debbie liked to give the answer to that question herself. She liked the peaceful, quiet feeling which she ex- perienced when she gazed at the pic- ture. In a few days she found herself wondering about this Man. What was He like? No, what is He like? How did He live? The appearance of Mrs.

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30 THE CHRONICLE Wait! He seemed to be moving. Yes, He was! Suddenly Jesus was in the room standing beside her bed and looking upon her with great compas- sion in His eyes. And He said unto her- Come Debbie rose from her bed and they walked out of the house together into the sunshine. As they walked slowly down the busy street, they noticed a sign boldly advertising Ben's Bar . The sound of loud vo-ices, thick from an over abun- dance of liquor reached their ears. Two men were discussing which wife would nag the most when they return- ed home. A newsboy called out. Ex- tra! Extra! read all about it. Five guards. murdered in prison riot. Worst riot in history of state, governor de- clares. Debbie heard a heavy, dis- couraged sigh escape from His lips and His eyes were filled with a great- er pity than she had ever beheld. Only He and His Father could, know the destiny of these people who were so stupid in sin. J W Just ahead of them, a great crowd was pushing and shoving, yelling an- gry threats back. and forth to each other-. A -man was standing on a wob- bly platform fashioned from orange crates preaching that he was God, that he alone was to be worshipped. Jesus quickened His steps until they were out o-f hearing. If only they could learn the truth. If only someone would tell them the truth! Turning the corner the signpost read Roosevelt Promenade. Large well-kept buildings with spacious lawns and fancy shutters lined both sides of the street. Neatly trimmed hedges and freshly-painted fences separated each house as if one family- wished not to associate with its neigh- bor. Nursemaids in white starched uni- forms were strolling the sidewalks with cute little babies whose mothers were too busy to be bothered with them. Jesus whispered, Oh, Father, for- give these people. Send someone to help them find the Paths of Righteous- ness. Walking on and on they came to the slums. Rickety, old drab houses leaned against each other for support, tired of the sorrow, ignorance and poverty they had held for more than a century. Children played along the filthy trash- filled streets, screaming curse-words to each other because it was all they knewg it was all they ever heard. Just then a police car roared past with its siren screeching to the world that someone had broken a law. How noisy the world would be if a siren blew everytime one of us disobeyed o-ne of God's laws, Debbie thought sadly. My Father, My Father, forgive these wretched people for they know not how to live! Jesus cried. Send someone to guard them from Satan's evil power that they may someday be with Me in Paradise. Debbie opened her eyes with a start. Someone next door had slammed the cover on a garbage can. She look- ed around expecting to see Jesus standing beside her bed. Yes, He was there! He was sitting on a' bench in a beautiful flower garden with three young children gathered around Him. Mrs. Koscubannia entered the room. A strange sadness deepened the lines in her face. Mother, l'm going to walk again. Debbie whispered softly. Carlene Lary English III