Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

i PAGE 4-B—THE BULLETIN, December 27, 1958 Adrian B. Sherman Ernest L, Sherman Albert D. Hemstreet SALES StfERMAt* street INSURANCE LEASES LOANS AUGUSTA, GEORGIA cnif dhristmaS JIM BRESNAHAN Dixie Distributors (Lombard Warehouse No. 5) Fenwick at 11th Street Augusta, Georgia Merry Christmas BRIGHAM’S SUPER MARKET 3 FINE STORES 'Augusta Owned —— Augusta Operated' JOHN B. MURRAY CO. REALTORS General Insurance — Real Estate — Loans 122 EIGHTH STREET PHONE PA. 2-5466 AUGUSTA, GEORGIA nstmas Doris Jewelry Store 913 BROAD STREET —AUGUSTA, GA. The Forgotten Saint By REV. RAWLEY MYERS Of the traditional figures that grace the Christmas crib, St. Joseph is certainly the least known. He stands in the sha dows, like part of the back ground scenery, a forgotten saint. Yet here is the greatest saint in heaven next to the Blessed Mother herself. It is time that the great and noble Joseph be better under stood. It is time that fallacious folktales concerning this man among men to put to rest for ever. Joseph so often is pictured as a tottering -old grandaddy. But the best authorities tell us that St. Joseph was about 30 at the time of the birth of Christ. Com mon sense dictates that he must have been young and strong. God gives no one an assignment he is unable to carry put. Yet God commissioned Joseph to be the protector of Mary and the Child. A MAN'S MAN Can you imagine an octogen arian making the arduous trips from Nazareth to the North to Jerusalem and Bethlehem in in the South? It would take a virile youth to lead Mary and the Child safely on the flight into Egypt, through desert wastes, amid wild animals and marauding bandits, pursued by Herod’s soldiers. Then, too, we recall that St. Joseph was a carpenter. This is no work for an old man today, but in Palestine 1900 years ago where the craftsman had to cut and hew the wood, carry the planks, and transport his bulky products, only the strongest could ply the trade. Joseph was youthful and vig orous, no doubt handsome, tan ned by the hot sun and raw wind, big and strong, with rip pling muscles and calloused hands. He was, in short, the kind of man our American boys ad mire. Bather than forgetting St. Joseph, we should bring him forth as a model for our youth. For Joseph is a saint for our times. The thing that made St. Joseph so pleasing to God was, not his physical strength, but his strength of soul manifested in his purity, obedience, and sense of justice. These, indeed, are vir tues for modern teenagers. St. Joseph was a man’s man. He was not afraid to fight. Like a soldier he stood his ground and did not surrender to temp tations against purity. Big men physically who are weak within often try to laugh and. brag about their sins to cover up for their cowardice. Strong in body, they are flabby of soul where strength really counts. Every little wind of temptation that comes along blows them over. Yet they try to pretend that his weakness is manly. St. Joseph was a real man, big within and without. He numbers among the giants of soul because he stood up to temptation and fought because he knew strong character is more important than a strong body. As Tenny son said: “My strength is as the strength of ten because my heart is pure.” St. Joseph was obedient. Here (By Riley Hughes) Riley Hughes, associate pro fessor of English at Georgetown University, has been contribut ing stories and articles to the Catholic- press since 1940. His novel “The Hills Were Liars,’’ which appeared in 1955, was a selection of both the Catholic Literary Foundation and the Thomas More Book Club. He is the editor of “All Manner of Men,” an anthology of repre sentative short stories from the Catholic press. He is a staff columnist for “The Critic” and since 1951 has been fiction critic of “The Catholic Weekly.” Jeff Stuart swung easily to the platform while the train paused in a glare of lights be fore heaving itself north. Every thing looks the same, he thought. It’s all as dingy as when I left. Even the snow, ranged in uneven drifts under the train shed, looked dreary. His sketch pad bulged out of his coat pocket as he walked through the tile-walled tunnel to the street, carrying his bat tered suitcase. Not much to come back with, not much to show for two years abroad. He walked out into the bad art of the main street, among buildings with dark, sullen faces lipsticked with smears of neon lights. In. the square he saw a huge fir strung with colored bulbs and topped with a lighted star. A thin-faced, stout-sto mached Santa Claus brushed past him, carrying a metal lunch box. He noticed several people carrying gaily wrapped packages, but their faces were tight-lipped and grim. NO PLACE ELSE He remembered then that it was the Christmas season. He had'not planned to arrive home Se eadon 5 Cjreelin Augusta’s Finest then, but when you go by freighter you don’t arrive by schedule. And the 24th, he thought, Christmas Eve. Of all the days to come back to that house, the very day he had been blotting out of his mind, that day he never wanted to remember. Well, there was no place else for him to go. On his way up the hill to the house he stopped off at the cor ner grocery. He’d make himself a few sandwiches and kill a couple of cans of beer. The elec tricity would still be shut off, and there would be no heat, but he remembered he had a few logs left for the fireplace. He’d probably shove off again in a few days. “You don’t come around any more, Mr. Stuart,” the grocer said, peering at him gloomily. “The supermarket maybe?” “No, not that. I’ve been away. Spain. Places like that.” The grocer’s glance said plain ly that there was no Spain or places like that. He returned to his position at the counter, lean ing on an elbow against the frozen-food locker. “Merry Christmas, Mr. Stuart,” he said to Jeff’s departing back. “Merry Christmas.” The bell at the top of the door jingled wearily as Jeff went out. He turned the key in his own door almost with panic. “I shouldn’t have come back,” he muttered. “What made me do it?” Or perhaps, the thought hit him, I shouldn’t have gone away. It was all he could do to keep from calling Kathy’s name as he entered the enormous studio they had made together out of a ramshackled old coach house. He struck a match to light the candles on the mantlepiece over the huge stone fireplace. MEMORIES Then he pulled aside the cur tains to let in the pale light from the street lamp. Out of the shadows rose the room they had known together. Stacked against the walls, just as he had left them two years ago, were his paintings. He took up a candle and went over to examine them. Yes, he remembered that pile. His Mexican period. Like a pain the memory of Acapulco — Kathy and Alcapulco — smote him. The Mexican shapes mock ed him in the candlelight. That was three, almost four years ago. Kathy was well that year in Mexico, glowing with what seemed an exuberant health. Then they had come home, for he had an important commission in sculpture. And in no time at all she was gone from him. She had left him with memories — and stacks of un sold paintings he no longer re cognized as his, and sculptures half finished. And that was all, all he had possessed for the past two years — two years to this day. In fairness, that was not quite all. (Continued on Page 5B) is a virtue for our day, especial for young people. Joseph was told to do something and he obeyed. He did not back talk or make excuses or try to wiggle out of an assignment. He ac cepted; he obeyed. Finally, in the Bible it tells us that Joseph was a just man. It is hard to think of a virtue needed more now, from the highest political figure to the lowliest shoeshine boy. Let this forgotten saint teach us justice above all. Let him tell us that nothing is more important than to be honest with God and with self and with one’s fellowman. To^give God His due is the pa ramount purpose of life. One who is honest with himself will be honest to all. As the father tells his son in Hamlet; “this above all, to thine own self be true and it will follow as the night the day, thou canst not, then, be false to any man.” The star-and-snow scene of the cave at Bethlehem is viewed on every side during the festive Christmas season: the Child, His Mother, and Joseph. It is right and proper, of course, that the Christ Child should be the cen tral figure in this dramatic set ting. And Mary surely should have her rightful place beside the Babe, for what is a child without his mother and Jesus was her little Boy. But, this Christmas, let us not forget St. Joseph, the protector; young, strong, virtuous, a saint for every youth and for us all the greatest saint in heaven be sides the Virgin Mary. Merry Christmas MULHERIN LUMBER COMPANY INCORPORATED 625 THIRTEENTH STREET AUGUSTA. GA. Institutional Wholesalers Fresh - Canned - Dried - Frozen BIRDSEYE A Merry Christmas dhridtmaS F. E. FERRIS & CO. Clothiers and Haberdashers 752 BROAD STREET AUGUSTA, GEORGIA ~Semitone STARK - EMPIRE Laundry Cleaning Dyeing Rug Cleaning Safety Savings AUGUSTA. GEORGIA Established 1837 Platt’s Funeral Home 721 Crawford Avenue Augusta, Georgia CHOCOLATES (Lspecla ll, for those who love ^ine things >■ Our Best Wishes To You . . . Friendly Service At All Times PERSONAL CHECKS: No minimum balance is required for you to enjoy the convenience of our personal joint or individ ual checking account— .... ; s V, 10 CHECKS FOR $1.00 North Augusta Banking Company Member Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation NORTH AUGUSTA, S. C. 'e’d like to fill your Stockings with our best wishes for a Christmas holiday as bright as the light in a child’s eyes ... as warm and cheery as a glowing hearth! AUGUSTA /