Whitworth University - Natsihi Yearbook (Spokane, WA)

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f--'W' - , 'wwe gbain and 04 ifziand By IOHN PINNEY As I sit here nursing a Wounded heart, I wonder why such things are. Do people sit up nights deliberately planning the lit- tle things they do to hurt their fellow be- ingsl, or is making others miserably un- happy a natural idiosyncrasy of theirs? Are some people just adept at making others uncomfortable, or are the others super-sensitive about such trivial unkind- nesses? What inborn qualities do human beings possess which allow them to hurt their fellows so greatly? I am prejudiced. I have just been hurt: and, by Heaven, I should rather be lashed with a whip or cut with a knife, any day, than be made uncomfortable by some thoughtless friend. Here is the thing that is strangest to me --it is always my closest friends who hurt me most. With the others, I don't care. Their feeble attempts at cutting my soul are as futile as the patter of an April show- er on an iron roof. It is the little inconsid- erate unkindnesses of those whom I like best that cut at my inner being as a rag- ing stream tears out a roadbed or eats away a dike. There are, on the other hand, some whom I do not consider friends of close comradeship who, by their carefully studied utterances and well-planned ac- tions, can make me squirm within myself like a man who is being cruelly flogged. I often wonder whether I am open to at- tacks from such persons or whether I have learned to fear them because of some lit- tle, long-forgotten encounter in the past. Whatever the cause, it hurts. Aye, it hurts: but again I say no hurt is so dread- ful as that which is carelessly inflicted by a trusted friend. Another pain which ranks among the most dreaded is that which comes from seeing a friend prove unworthy of the mental picture I have made of him. By proving unworthy, I mean doing such lit- tle careless things as being unfair during a moment of personal desire or acting as a poor sport for personal gain or pleasure. How it must hurt God to see the beings He has created fall short of His dream for theml Oh, I am fully aware of the fact that I can't expect everyone to be perfect or even nearly so. I also feel that a great deal of my trouble lies in my refusing to admit that these others are human beings, actuated by human desire and harnessed by human failings. Yet I love my friends so dearly that it hurts terribly when I see the veneer punctured and am permitted to view the fault beneath the lovely sur- face. This pains me as it would pain an elderly woman who has nothing left but her long-cherished furniture, if she were to find one moming that a deep, ugly scratch had been made in her quaint old table by some careless visitor. Perhaps I could better show my love by being more lenient and broad-minded toward these friends of mine. As to that, I do not know. I do know positively, however, that at times the hurt is almost unbearable. The thing that makes me hesitate in my searchings is the fact that I have most probably hurt others as cruelly. As I think over my past escapades, I am horri- fied to see the 'fmost probably dissolve into grim certainty. I weep but find that weeping brings no change. I curse my friends and myself but find that cursing only intensifies the wrong. I seek advice but find the adviser as well as the advice to be filled with human failings. At last, I fall humbly to my knees and with soul- rending anguish utter this prayer: Oh, God, Friend and Creator of all mankind, if I must be hurt, give me the strength to bear the wound in sympathiz- ing silence. But, dear God, may I ever keep before me a vision of kindness and mercy toward others. May I never allow my actions to become stumbling blocks to my friends but ever strive to leave be- hind me a smooth and even road so that those following behind, groping blindly for some sure path, for some guiding trail, may find the way an easier one to travel. May I ever be a friend to all the friendless. May I live for one thing only-to make my brother happier. As I rise to go my way, I feel more kind- ly toward my fellow beings. I am sur- prised to find that my own selfish hurt, al- though still not forgotten, no longer aches so persistently.

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, ...V I l U55 Jlfsw Peace came into my heart todayl It was nothing that is strange Or new that quieted me: ' But softly through the rain-washed air The herald of spring, the robin, sang. New life is burgeoning forth: From out the dim and dismal grays Bright greens and yellows gleam: Mountain ashes drop those withered leaves Held fast through all the winter winds. The buttercups and the yellow bells, The blue-eyed grass and the adder's-tongues Are all asserting spring has come. Cloud fleeces, blanketing the sun, Are left behind: pine needles gleam. To us each spring the message comes: Put off the old, put on the new: And make this pledge with life and love: Live valiantly: work in your little world With others' happiness in view. -LORRAINE RASCO.