Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

PAUL 6-b—in a bu LrUiinx. Dece.iio>i J>. iyc Christmas Gift For Esteban By ESTHER MILLER PAYLER It was daybreak in the Andes mountains of Peru, when 14- year-old Esteban slipped on his faded poncho. His father and his llamas were already at the sil ver mine. His mother ladled mush for Esteban and his sis ter. “Vinca, after breakfast, hoe the beans and potatoes on the terraces. We want food for our Christmas feast!” “Esteban, you shear the al pacas, so the wool can be sold before the Feast.” Baby Carlos on her hip, their mother trudg ed to the mine sorting sheds. After he ate, Esteban said to 'vinca: "When Cailo was back from school he read to me. Wish I could go to school too.” “Callo and Luis have a rich uncle in Lima! Where could you get school money?” asked Vinca. “Father Ernesto says for me to save my money for school, when I’m able to work in the mine.” “He’s teaching you to read and write,” reminded Vinca. “That should make you happy.” “Father must go to his other church, too. He has little time for me,” frowned Esteban. Vinca took the hoe: “I must work, or no Christmas feast.” LUIS RETURNS Esteban went to the stone en closed yard to shear the alpacas. “Lour fingers are nimble!” said a voice behind him. Esteban jumped at the words, for he thought himself alone. He turn ed. “Luis!” he exclaimed joyfully. Luis described his life in Lima. Esteban said: “You have a gay time! When do you stu dy?” Luis laughed. “I don’t go to school. I’m supposed to work, but I’m with fellows who help themselves to other people’s pockets.” Esteban gasped. “You’re quick! you could earn lots picking pockets, especially when the Christmas Eve crowds are around the Cathedral.” “That’s stealing!” “Rich people have more’n they need! Working in the mines you’ll be old ’fore you earn enough for school. With me it wouldn’t be long.” Before Esteban could answer there was a sharp crack and a roar. Esteban’s shears fell. “Mine landslide!” he shouted . Esteban and Vinca ran down to the mine. Luis ran home mut tering: “Why should I get hurt too?” Vinca sobbed: “Papa, Mama and Carlos.” She made the sign of the Cross. “Hope we’re in time!” panted Esteban, sweating. “I see Mama and Carlos!” gasped Vinca. “Men are digging. If only Papa’s out!” Mama came running, sobbing: “Papa and his llamas are buri ed!” Esteban began to dig. Vinca and Mama prayed. As men were brought into the air, Esteban looked eagerly. None was his father. “There should be a doctor in our village,” complained the man next to Esteban. “Till Dr. Manuel gets here from town, many will.die unless some helps Father Ernesto.” Esteban’s shovel struck some thing soft. He groped. “A llama with a yellow tassel! One of Papa’s llamas! Vinca called: “Esteban quick!” In spite of blood and dirt, Es teban recognized Papa on the ground. He felt warm, but was n’t breathing. Following Father Ernesto’s instructions, Esteban gave artificial respiration. Ach ing, Esteban felt he could not keep up the pumping any long er, but he did. “Dr. Manuel!” All shouted. The doctor rushed to Esteban’s side. “Good work!” he said. Then he poured something be tween Papa’s lips. Esteban worked on: “He’s breathing!” When Papa was all right, Es teban worked with others. How long he worked he did not know until the priest said: “Rest.” The doctor stayed all night, sleeping a few hours in the priest’s house. Esteban, curled in his poncho at the foot of the doctor’s bed, helped again at dawn. Before the doctor left that night, he gave instructions about the care of the injured to Father Ernesto and Esteban. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He gripped Esteban’s hand. “You’ve healing fingers. You should be a doctor!” “I want to be a doctor,” Es teban answered knowing now that he did. “But how?” “Our Lord will find a way!” HALEY MOTOR COMPANY PHONE HE. 5-8313 ALBANY, GA. PANAMA CITY, FLA. — WAYCROSS, GA. answered the priest. Daily Luis coaxed Esteban to 410 N. SLAPPEY DRIVE m ALBANY, GA, KIMBRELL STERN ENGINEERING AND EQUIPMENT CO. WHOLESALE EXCLUSIVELY Corner Third and Washington Dial HE. 5-5601 ALBANY, GEORGIA Albany Undertaking Company PLUMBING • HEATING • INDUSTRIAL WATER WORKS • AIR CONDITIONING SUPPLIES 323 Broad Ave. Phone HE. 6-1526 ALBANY, GEORGIA 1st. Federal Savings And Loan Association 228 Pine Avenue Across Street from the Courthouse Albany’s First Choice for Savings “Where Thousands Save Millions” Best Wishes from ROSENBERG'S ALBANY, GEORGIA BEST WISHES F rom SOUTHEASTERN LIQUID FERTILIZER COMPANY DISTRIBUTORS OF ANHYDROUS AMMONIA Post Office Drawer 1777 ALBANY, GEORGIA AIR CONDITION & HEATING By Russell Kelly Company 727 W. BROAD AVE. ALBANY, GA. ■fSkafisw.v iMfca me REINFORCING STEEL METAL SASH STEEL CONSTRUCTION JOE BRASH SUPPLIES IEARS SI EEL, li nc. P. O. BOX 686 PHONE HE. 5-5237 ALBANY, GEORGIA go. to Lima with him. “No,” Esteban was torn be tween wanting money fast so he could study, knowing he was needed at home and not want ing to steal. Luis repeated: “We must be in Lima for Christmas.” Finally he threatened: “You must go with me! You know my secret!” “I won’t tell. Papa’s hurt. I couldn’t run away at Christ mas!” Luis towered over him. “You ’ll go or you won’t live until Christmas!” Esteban dragged up the path toward home. Luis is bigger, he thought. Pie’ll force me to go. I want to be a doctor but where’ll the money come from? Maybe I should go with Luis and learn to steal. THE REWARD As he passed the house of the mine superintendent, the man called: “Esteban, come in.” “You’ve done good work for us, Esteban. Here’s your re- reward.” The superintendent gave him a bag of money. “I didn’t do it alone. I only helped Father Ernesto.” “We gave his share to the Church. This is yours,” replied the superintendent. “Until your father can drive again, you can take his place for the same mon ey. When we need first aid you’ll be handy.” Esteban breathed, “Thank you. I’ll try.” Starting up the path Esteban remembered Luis. What would the priest, mine superintendent and his parents think if he ran away now? But how could he keep from going with the bully, Luis? Esteban thought he heard someone following. The path was dark. He shivered: No use trying, he thought. I couldn’t be a doctor. There’s not enough money for that. Suddenty a shower of stones clattere but Esteban saw no one. Somethnig heavy hit him. Este ban fought, clutching the money bag. Then all went black. Esteban did not know how long he lay on the lonely path. When he came to, the moon was bright. Esteban groaned. His money was gone and with it all his hopes. “Help!” the cry came from be low. Esteban felt dizzy. Maybe the robber fell into the canyon! He struggled to his feet. Again the cry came, “Help!” I’m weak! Why should I go? But turning, Esteban follow ed the sound of the voice. “I’m coming,” he cried. “Keep calling, so I can find you!” Finaly he stumbled over Luis. “You got my money bag!” “Help me, please,” whined Luis . Esteban felt like running. “I can’t walk!” cursed Luis. Tearing a limb from a shrub, Esteban bound it to Luis’ leg with his poncho. “Lean on me,” he urged, staggering. “It’s not far to Father Ernesto’s.” Luis fainted. Pushing and pulling Esteban reached the yard and called. Dr. Manuel was there. He helped the priest get Luis into bed. Luis opened his eyes, star ing around. “Esteban saved your life,” said the doctor. “I’m sorry I took your money, Esteban. Father, I must con fess,” whispered Luis. Esteban felt like a weight was lifted. Dr. Manuel smiled. “With this money as a start, you can go to school.” “But how?” asked Esteban. “After your father’s better,” the doctor replied, “you can stay with me and help for your board. When you’re a doctor you can take care of the village and mining camp and I won’t have to drag my old bones up there anymore.” “But Doctor, why should you help me?” “You’ve earned it. You can’t refuse to take a Christmas gift for you, your family and me,” the Doctor chuckled. “I must be dreaming,” said Esteban smiling at last. “No, Dr. Esteban,” said Fa ther Ernesto. “I told you the Lord would provide.” “He has,” sighed Esteban blissfully, “and given me my best Christmas gift.” OKINAWAN CHRISTMAS By Sisler Mary Immaculaia, F.M.S.I. (Missionary at Vista Maria, Naha, Okinawa, Ryltyu Islands) If you wind your way back to Bethleherp and study the First Christmas, you will realize that Christmas is giving — God, our Father, gave to us His Most Precious Son, and ever since that Gift, we commemorate His Birthday by giving to others. In mission countries, our duty is to announce to pagans the good tidings of His coming, and of His bringing “peace on earth to men of good will,” and one of our immediate duties of the season is to illustrate Christ mas by giving to the sick poor who surround us. NOTHING WASTED At Christmastime, “let no- thing be wasted” is in our thoughts as we sort out the ex pendables donated by American Catholic families. Used clothing is most abundant, and since our territory includes roughly 800,- 000 Okinawans, we could use al most that many outfits — our pleasure is sorting out Ameri can clothes to match Okinawan families. One Doctor and his family mailed us a check to buy new clothes for one family, and what a joy to watch the children un pack the assortment and make rapid change from rags to new sweaters, warm packets. Another group of Catholic wo men, the Miraculous Medal So dality, gave us gaily wrapped packages containing a Good Health Kit, (towel, washcloth, soap, toothbrush and paste) — a big hit with fastidious little girls. But what a surprise for us the following Sunday at Mass to behold one of our catechu mens, an eight-year-old, walking reverently up the center aisle in front of God and everybody with the brand new washcloth arranged artistically on her head! Also in the good health cate gory, someone gave us six cans of a cleaner for false teeth. We were puzzled as to who would be happy to receive such an un usual gift until we remembered Mrs. Omine, one of the first Okinawans to visit our Dispen sary when we opened our Mis sion here, more than four years ago. We had baptized two of her dving infants, and now on Christmas Eve, the two tiny Ok inawan saints had helped bring their mother to Baptism. When she came afterwards to thank us for helping her to become a Catholic we noticed a gleaming new set of false teeth. She was delighted with her gift and without a doubt she’s the only Okinawan with a Polident, smile. WILLING MARTYRS In addition to used clothing, we received an overwhelming supply of used toys, which ne cessitated a standing order in the Dispensary that any child who underwent the terrors of an injection would receive a toy; we never before had such will ing martyrs, such silent injec tions. Towards the end of Christmas week there was only one doll left in the toybox. How ever, four-year-old Junko Nak amura didn’t complain when she noticed the doll had only one arm; she hugged it closer, re alizing that it was an “excep- tionl” dolly. What a happy smile next day when she brought the doll to show our staff how cle verly her mother had fashioned and installed with remarkable surgery a new arm exactly matching the other arm. Our catechism classes also benefited by Christmas giving. Little Yoichi, normally very well behaved, brought his new pop-gun to class on the Sunday after Christmas. Just when I was giving fullest attention to the little girls’ section, Yoichi whipped out the gun and “make-believe” killed us all. For that brave action, he had the honor of being the first Ok inawan to donate a gun to our Sisterhood. HEAVY SMOKER? Our bedridden home patients were by no means neglected. A generous group had given us 300 pounds of rice, two cases of powdered milk, apples, candy and nuts. We divided everything according to family census and brought the Christmas spirit to more than 50 families. Captain R. asked if there wasn’t something else they could get for us; she was slight ly taken aback when Sister ask ed for cigarettes, quickly ex plaining that we wanted to give them: to our friendly obassans (grandmothers) to brighten the holiday for them. They just love American cigarettes, t h e y’d “walk a mile for any brand,” and we don’t have to worry about them becoming chain smokers. Only last week we were Questioning a 75-year-old at the Dispensary and the Doc tor asked “Do you smoke?” “Yes,” was her panic-stricken reply, “should I stop because of my health?” “How much do you smoke?” probed the Doctor (Continued on Page 8B)