Evening journal., 1922-06-02
Editorial from The Literary Digest of April f5th)

CABLEGRAM from American Women's Hospital
Ervan: I'VE have eight hundred and lifty-tWO cases
in the hospital, and children dying in all corners of
Ervan All day long can hear the walls and groans
of little children outside the office buildings hoping
and will pick them up If the shines little
while they quiet down. when it rains they begin again
One day when the rain turned into snow it was awful
to listen to them The note of terror that came into
the general wall was plainly perceptibe upstairs, and
| had the windows closed They well know what
night in the would mean to them. We pick
ing them up as fast as possible but is fatal to crowd
them to such point that we would lose even those
already in orphanage.
Erivan - that one-time prosperous city of
Armenia not far from Mount Ararat famous, in days
OF peace for the peach orchards and vegetable gar
denS that surrounded 1t on every side. Walk through
its streets today and here what you will See Chill
dren walking through the muddy cutters hunting for
bits of orange peels apple cores or anything that once
reSembled food little boys and girls sleeping in
stables, with straw and manure spread over their
bodies TO keep them from freezing to DEATH in the
early morning, deserted children lying in the door
ways of the buildings wrapped in old burlap bags
silent, perhaps already dead, others Sobbing
uncOnSciOuSy in their sleep. They have been placed
there during the night by their mothers who unable
final chance to save their chdren's lives. There is
always a chance that they will be rescued by the
Americans and it is with this one hope that the
mothers leave their little children praying to God that
they will be saved by the kind and generous Ameri-
cans.
Has that story of unutterable suffering, of pas
Sionate love and gratitude for what has been given
that trusting prayerful appeal for of children
whose lives now depend uS-haS it all grown Weari-
some to us? Are we tired of being kind and gen
erous? Is there no longer any sacrfcia tenderness
for little children in hearts? Is it time to be rid of
the burden, to stop giving and so, through the
Board of Trustees of the Near East Relief UhO must
act dictde to pronounce the sentence of death
on these thousands of BOYS and girls who have
believed to the last moment that Ue would save them?
Mothers and fathers of America, it is not truel
You will not allow i'll Your hearts have not turned to
Stonel What few patry miles of distance! They
cannot separate you from that famine-SriCken land,
where dead and dying children litter the city streets
They cannot shut out from your vision those hunger
pnched faces and outstretched hands! You can shut
your windows they did, in very desperation in the
CITY of Erivan but the walls and means of little chill
dren, waiting in rain and snow, by day and night, to
be picked up and clothed and fed, cannot be shut
out of your heart.
From far-away stations, by the magic of science
our homes are being filled with song and story and
music for the dance. But there are messages
wonderful than any controlled by the wizards OF wire
less They are coming now from far away, and the
story thev bring is burdened with tears. The music is
not for dancing, for those who make 1T can scarce
stand upon their feet The song, sweled to chorus
of woe by thousands of little voices that ought to be
musical with laughter is always the same: Hunger!
.Bread!" And with the pleading cry of the children
there comes voice. sweet and solemn, saying: These
are MY little ones; We are My Shepherds; Feed Ny
Lambs"
To catch these messages, every American heart
that has thrilled at the laughter of little child or
thrObbed at its cry of pain is the receiving instrument
and the messages are broadcased to from the very
throne of Heaven