The Pensacola journal. (Pensacola, Fla.) 1898-1985, 1922-05-15
THE ANSWER.


Recently there was shipped to the
group Of children in a sanitarium on
the Black Sea in Rumania, several
boxes Of gifts from the boys and girls
Of the Junior American Red Cross.
The member of the Junior Red Cross
staff whose special good fortune it was
to see these boxes unpacked and pre-
pared for distribution, found in the
occasion a peculiarly moving expert
ence that connected up with another
different in kind, but of the same
wonderful quality. Three years before
in the nearby town Of Constanta, an
American steamer-the West Mahomet
driving at top speed through the
mine strewn waters of the Dardanelles
and the Bosphorus. dropped anchor in
the little harbor of Roumania's only
seaport, and still infeyerish haste. be-
gan to discharge the huge cargo OF
flour that America had sent to the
starving peasants Of Roumania.
Day after day under a leaden win
try sky, beaten upon by the tornado
north wind that swirling over the
steppes Of South Russia and the Black
sea, spends it's fury finally on the
plains of the Dobrogia-day by day
for weeks an endless procession OF
gaunt hungry men, bending low under
sacks OF flour. staggered down the
gang -planks with their burdens to the
waiting carts on the quay. Day after
day the interminable line OF heavily
loaded carts dragged it's swaying,
crawling length UP the long hill and
across the half demolished town to
the railroad station. from whence the
precious burden was sped upon It's
life-g giving errand. And outlining the
path OF that procession, articulating
like huge linked chain in motion, the
white flour sitting lay like a ribbon
marking the way to new life, new
strength, new hope. 1t was as II one
beheld the very lifeblood OF a nation
beginning TO pulsate through its AFTER
les.
To an American, the spectacle was
beyond words moving. The imagination
leaped across dividing land ana
ocean TO that other group. the mem
bers Of which in a fine fenzy OF al
truism were sounding depths and
climbing heights OF exalted efforts be-
yond anything known to man. and IN
the stupendous process were discover
ing the treasure Of their own passion
for righteousness. Even as with mag
nificent gesture they gave life 20 a
nation near to death--so they at that
moment they found their own souis
Three years lay between that ex-
perience and this unpaclSing Of gifts
for group OF sticky children, on
whose twisted backs and missnapen
limbs war had laid the supreme bur
den Three years. during which men
had fumbled blindly, trying TO scale
the precipice beyond which lay the
way to a secure future; years In which
faith faltered and yearning souls knew
fear and the black terror of possible
failure; years in which the steady
white light Of unselfish heroism died In
mems eyes giving way to the darting
flame OF avarice and suspicion and
snarling envy. Years, when often more
often, the tormenting question rose in
weary brains-'Is 1t that there is no
Godhead in MANI" And 10! here was
the answer in these little packages
with their bits OF childish treasure,
gathered together in unbounded love.
and sent flooding over land and sea
with serene faith that the free-rna-
sorry of childhood Is as broad as the
universe, and the password the same
in all tongues.