The watchman and southron. [volume] (Sumter, S.C.) 1881-1930, 1919-12-20
\ Christmas Story.

Ny Dear Reader:
| wish you to regard this little
Christmas story as a personal letter..
1t happened one cold, crisp Christ
mas Eve five years ago. was stand
ing in front OF a brilliantly lighted
toy store in a city not necessary to
name Within was arranged in splen-
did masses every type of toy to glad !.
den the heart of childhood. Coming
and going in eager anxious haste :.
We're mothers and fathers clad in sty-e
lish. as we'll as comfortable clothes,
their faces smiling because they
knew the JOY they were making
ready for the coming morrow. There
We're also little ones in that throng
who in their childish cunning knew !
full we'll that many Of those self same
toys would hang on their Christmas
trees, placed there by mysterious
Santa Claus. and they were glad.
But all seemed 10 fail or refuse ITO
see a poor. thinly clad mother, whose
face showed that she had known
brighter and better days. Clinging
10 her hand was little girl of six,
whose only Christmas joy would be
the view Of the toys which tomorrow
would be the actual possession of
thousands Of happy children.
watched her for few minutes and
realized that this was only too true. :
Presently man attired in his every
day working clothes modestly Slip
ped into the mothers hand crisp
five dollar bill~with the request that
| o1c- I,x,1
ness. l then and there discovered
that there is no eloquence on. earth
to- compare with a tear drop glisten-
| ing in a mothers eye, placed there be- Z
cause of gratitude.
Now, my dear friend, as this Christ
mas Season approaches there are two
hundred and fifty thousand hungry,
homeless and helpless orphans, whose
eyes are flied with tears-not tears
i for Christmas toys. but tears for
/! bread TO satisfy the cravings OF Z
hunger and to keep their starved and
ernaciated bodies from falling by the
waysidc and becoming dry bones to :
mingle with the thousands of others
who have already fallen. There is no
/; father to hear their cries because he
has been killed by the cruel Turk.
| Neither is there any mother, nor viii
there be, to wipe away their tears
for they have been scattered into
(! the mountains and deserts, in many
cases never to see their loved ones
again Fifty thousand of these
mothers are unwilling victims in Turk
ish harems where a brand has been
burned into their flesh and the threat
of death placed over their heads
should they escape. How many Of
these will see their little ones again,
God only knows.
Now my friend. call upon you to
assist in bringing Christmas to these
little ones I call upon you in the
name Of Him, who made Christmas
possible for us all and said mas
much as ye have done it unto one OF
the least Of these ye have done it
unto me-" l call upon you whether
you recognize Him as the Christ or
not I call upon you in the name OF
suffering humanity. You may not see
the tear drop Of gratitude come into
that mothers eye on that Christmas
Eve, but their gratitude to you Will
be far greater ard you shall not lose
your reward.
Simply fill out your check for what
ever amount your heart may prompt:
! and forward the same to W. Banks
Dove. State Chairman, No. 211 lib
crty National Bank Building, Coium-
! bi,, S. c.
/. Yours very truly,
w. Banks Dove,
State Chairman.