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Pig C a , GREETINGS N' Whistle nnufifn \liAn Jell no nawicn jnop North Slappey Drive Albany, Georgia Wallace Chevrolet CHEVROLET Sales & Service Telephone HE. 2-6271 Pine at Madison ALBANY, GEORGIA Hofmayer Dry Goods Company WHOLESALE Albany, Georgia THE BULLETIN, December 24, 1960—PAGE 5-B 1 K CHRISTMAS IN CAIRO , I * WRECK OF THE SANTA MARIA I First Christmas In America By Norman C. Schlichter It was 11 o’clock on Christ mas Eve. All over the world people were getting ready to celebrate Christmas Day. Far out to sea a lonely man stood on the deck of a ship. It was a calm night and he look ed up at the bright stars. He was thinking about Christmas at home. In his mind he could hear the bells of the church ringing, calling the people to midnight Mass. But the man was very tired. He had not slept in two days. So he went back to his cabin, said his prayers, and was soon fast asleep. The man was Christopher Columbus. The year was 1492. The ship was the Santa Maria. THE WRECK Almost three months before, Columbus had landed on the island of San Salvador. He had discovered an entirely new world — America. Since then, he had been exploring the near-by islands. On the lower decks a man W J AZ 960 On Your Dial 5000 Walls PHONE HEmlock 2-7447 — P. O. BOX 611 THE JAMES S. RIVERS STATIONS: WJAZ, Albany 1000 Watts; WMJM, Cordele 250 Watts; WTJH, East Point (Atlanta) 5000 Watts; WACL, Waycross 1000 Watts; WDOL, Athens 1000 Watts. I a» % (■J l2it’ e f3 MOTEL North Slappey Drive, Highway 19 North Phone HE. 6-6341 Albany, Georgia named Jean de la Cosa was in charge. (He was part owner of the Santa Maria.) But, Juan, too, was sleepy. So he woke up one of the sailors and told him to steer the ship. The ocean looked so peaceful and calm, there seemed to be no danger. The sailor, in turn, woke up a young cabin boy who was dozing over his hourglass. The boy’s name was Pepe. It was his job to watch the sand in the hourglass. Every half hour he would turn the glass and call out the time. “I will give you the tiller for. a Christmas present, boy,” the sailor said to Pepe. “But do not tell anyone.” Then the sailor curled up and went to sleep. At first Pepe was delighted. He had always longed for a chance to steer the ship. He took hold of the big wooden tiller. But soon he heard a strange sound. The ship began to rock and creak in an unusual way. repe became frightened. 'men he realized tnat he was the only person awake on the whole ship! He knew that the men would laugh at him if he called lor help. They would ndVer let him take the tiller again. Glancing at the hourglass he could see that it was almost midnight. Pepe was getting ready to call out. But now it was too late. Tne ship shook and rocked. There was a great bumping, grinding noise. Waves roared over the deck. What had happened? The ship had gone aground on snarp rocks near tne island. in a lew moments everyone on tne snip was awake. Coium- Dus and J uan de la Cosa began snouting orders. But tney could not get the< ship back into deep water. Tne Santa Maria Was doomed, it would never sail again. DAY OP WORK All through the night and the next day — Christmas Day — Columbus and his men worked, carrying the ship’s cargo to shore. Tnen they took tne ship apart, board by board. They used tne wood to build a lort on the island. So the first Christmas in the New World was not celebrated with Masses, carols and feast ing. It was a day of hard work for Columbus and his men. A few weeks later — on Fri day, January 4, 1493 — Colum bus and his men boarded the Nina. At sunrise they raised their anchors and began The long trip back to Spain. But not all the men were on the A. C. Samford INCORPORATED CONTRACTORS AND ENGINEERS \ P. 0. Box 1229 Aiijasiy, Georgia By James McGovern Although in another ten or 15 minutes the sun would go down, the air was still balmy. I watched the large kite-like birds, circling lazily over the three tall date palms. Each circle brought them closer to the leafy tops of the trees. Two or three of them had al ready gone to roost. The sun was sinking fast now, but the breeze from the Nile was still warmed by the bright, strong sun that shone brilliantly all day, as it did al most every day in Cairo. But this was not just another day. It was Christmas Eve—my first in Cairo. WINDOW SHOPPING I remembered that first morning, about the middle of October, when I awoke chilly. There had been a hint of fall in the air. I had wondered then what Christmas in Cairo was going to be like. All dur ing November the hint of fall had been more pronounced, with a decided chill in the morning and evening air. But the afternoons, bathed all morning in the sun, had con tinued balmy. A few days ago I had walk ed down Kasr El Nil, looking hopefully in the shop windows for some signs of Christmas. A section of a window of one of tne large shops had some chil dren’s toys and in several smaller shops the windows were decorated with streamers of crepe paper in pastel shades of pink, blue and yel low. At two or three busy inter sections a street hawker in galabia — a long white loose fitting gown — and turban had eagerly offered his wares: a dozen or so small, pitiful-look ing Christmas balls and a few mangy strips of tinsel. It was then I decided that I wouldn’t try to have a Christmas tree. In an effort to be philos ophic about it, I thought of all the tinsel and trappings that went with the commercializa tion of Christmas in the States —at least that wouldn’t be thrust down my throat here. Maybe it was better this way. But the thought of the eager throngs of Christmas shoppers, hurrying from one brightly decorated shop to another, through streets that were a fai ryland of red, green, blue and yeiiow lights, scented with the mingled pungent odor of pine, cedar and spruce awakened in me a nostalgic longing. I was thankful, that I had packed the figures and little cardboard stable of a Christmas crib. The sun was gone now. I shivered in my shirt sleeves and went into the livingroom, closing the doors to the bal cony. Then I turned on the light and unwound a big wad ot fresh white cotton, covered the glass top of a cocktail ta ble with it and began arrang ing the cardboard stable and the figures of the Christmas crib. CHRISTMAS IN JUNE Aiy, my sufragi, (servant) who was setting the table for dinner, stopped in the door way. He grinned knowingly and said, “Merry Christmas, m’sieur!” then hurried on to the kitchen. The greeting always made me smile. Aly could speak a little pidgin English, but no French. Yet he insisted upon calling me monsieur. I remem bered, too, that day last June, just a few weeks after I arriv ed in Cairo, when Aly had come in ail smiles one morn ing and greeted me cheerily with, “Merry Christmas!” I had grinned back at Aly, but had been puzzled and a little discomforted by the greeting. It had bothered me all day, until finally I had told a friend about it, a .man who had been in Cairo for a couple of years. My friend had laughed loudly. “It’s a big Muslim holiday,” he explained, “and that was Aly’s way of asking you for baksheesh." Baksheesh, I had already learned was a hand out. About nine the phone rang. It was Mahmoud Naggar, a business acquaintance wno had become a friend. When the greetings were over, Mahmoud asked me, a little diffidently, if I were going to midnight Mass. Suddenly I remembered that Mahmoud had asked that same question about a month ago. At the time I had thought that Mahmoud was just being sympathetic, and that his in terest was merely an expres sion of Egyptian courtesy. In return, I had asked Mahmoud if he would like to go with me. Mahmoud had said he would. Then I had promptly forgot ten the incident. Now I ask ed Mahmoud again if he would care to go with me, and again Mahmoud said he would. After a shower I lay down for about an nour. A little af ter ten I got up realizing tnat we had belter be eariy, since X nacuvt tried to maite reser vations. I aid know, thougn, tnat we had a choice of sev eral churches. There was St. Joseph's, Cairo, the big Fran ciscan cnurch staffed by Ital ian Xathers; Cor di Jesu, the Sacred Heart chapel, and St. Joseph’s, Zamaiek, both under the direcction of the Fathers of Verona; and the big Carmel ite church up in Shubra, Ste. Therese. I knew that all these churches were having a mid- night Mass. After some thought I decided to try Cor di Jesu. If we couldn’t get in there, we could hurry over to St. Joseph’s, Cairo, which was only a lew blocks away. PLEASANT SURPRISE Driving down the Nile to Gezen, X remembered my sur prise at finding so many Cath olic churches in Cairo. True, tnere were ten mosques for every cnurch, for Cairo was a IVIusnm city, but it was pleas ant to find how easy it was to drop into a church, no matter in what part of the city I found myseif. Tnere were other Latin churches in the city which I had not yet visited. And out in Mataria, a dingy little sub urb, its dusty narrow main street almost impassable with pushcarts, donkeys, cameis, and the swarming humanity oi the East, there was a beautiful Jesuit chapel dedicated to the Holy Family. You entered from the mam street through a gate in a high wall and pass ed up a sandy walk through a trim garden to the chapel door. Just a stone’s throw away, where the limits of Mataria ran into the desert, there was a Pharaonic obelisk, marking the site of the ancient city of Heliopolis . . . And if you could find your way from the Jesuit chapel through the maze of narrow lanes, there was a convent and chapel of cloistered Discalced Carmelite nuns, a tiny island of fervent Cnristianity surrounded by a Muslim sea, just a few hun dred yards away. It wasn’t chance that had placed these two Christian shrines in Mataria. Just an other stone’s throw away from both of them was the Tree of the Virgin, where Mary and her Child and Joseph were said to have rested after their flight into Egypt. The squat, gnaned, leafless old tree look ed as if it might indeed have stood there since the beginning of the Christian era (it was said to be a shoot from the original tree). These Latin Christian shrines are far less numerous than the churches and chapels of the Catholic and Orthodox Christians of the Eastern rites: the Copts, the ancient Chris tians of Egypt, who make up almost a sixth of the popula tion of modem Egypt, and whose liturgical language is Coptic and Arabic; the Mel- kites, “the authentic local Catholics,” whose liturgical language is Arabic; the Syri ans, Orthodox and Catholic, whose liturgical language is Syriac and Arabic; the Maro- mtes, all Catholics, whose lit urgical language, like the Syrians, is Syriac and Arabic; and the Armenians, Orthodox and Catholic whose liturgical language is classical Armen ian. 1 had seen churches of all these rites and always felt at home in them. MAHMOUD INTERESTED I was so occupied with these thoughts that ■ 1 almost passed the apartment house where Mahmoud lived. Mahmoud, a rather short, stocky man whose iron-gray hair had the tight curliness characteristic of so many Egyptians, welcomed me in his clipped British ac cent. “I know that I can’t offer you anything now. But do come in and sit down, if only for a few minutes.” We arrived at Cor di Jesu a little after 11:30 and found good seats. I did not mind the half-hour wait, but was a lit- (Continued on Page 6-B) RHODES, Inc. FURNITURE Jackson Street’ At Pine Albany, Georgia ship. The sailors, you see, had heard stories from the Indians about a great treasure of gold on the island. They begged Columbus to let them stay on the island and start a colony there. Columbus chose 39 men to remain on the island. He call ed their fort La Navidad, which means Nativity, or Christmas. (On his next voyage to the New World, Col umbus found the fort burned and all the 39 men killed by the Indians.) Christopher Columbus never forgot that Christmas on the island of Hispaniola. And the world never forgot the story of the First Christmas in America. d3est f \AJishei 3 rom FIRST STATE BANK ALBANY, GA. Member Federal Deposit- Insurance Corporation