Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1924-12-16
THIS AND THAT
BY CHARLES e. TRAcEWELL.

Like Moses of old, I place before
you today. life and death. Both may
be found side. by side on a peaceful
street running west from Rock Creek
A cemetery stands at the end, a
high school at the other. speak
of that portion of r street lying be-
tween T -enty-eighth and Thirty
fifth street. oak Hill Cemetery be-
ing at the o. end, Western High
School at the other.
Along the uneven brick sidewalk
by the cemetery two urchins run, let
ting two small sticks rattle across
the giant iron palings of the great
fence. through which one looks into
the city. OF the dead.
Chatter, clatter go the sticks across
tho black iron rods. Shouts OF laugh
ter arise from the little ones. No
answer comes. however, from the
rolling. terraces of the cemetery.
The white monuments arise row on
row, testimony to the faith and the
hopes of men.
With the exception of the children.
all is very quiet here on r street. The
only entrance at the east is Twenty
eighth street, which ends abruptly as
it's strikes into the end of the ceme-
terry.
Here at the corner of Twenty
de-sac, formed by this juncture Of the
two street. To the left lies a low
bank, to the right small house in
the cemetery grounds.
BY the dwelling is a tremendous
bird house, painted green, and ele-
waited on a tall pole. IT'S the sort
of bird house you read about but
seldom see, with enough holes for
all the birds along Rock Creek, 1t
would seem.
There are holes on the west side,
10 on the south. The birds fly in and
the birds fly out. to aliGht now and
then on the innocent white marble
angels and the little girl kneeling In
an attitude of prayer.
- y = .-
Well may we pray, little marble
child, kneeling there so calm and
white meath the sun and the rain
and the snow of the years, for you
typify our hopes and our fears. Surely
your intercession Will not be in vain
though TO our eyes your lips seem
sealed.
Cry! What shall cry? All flesh
| is grass, and all the goodness there
of is as the flower of the field: the
grass withereth, the flower fadeth,
because the breath of the Lord
bioweth upon. it; surely the people is
grass! The grass withereth the
hover fadeth: but the word of our
God shall stand forever"
Here, more than any place else in
the world, one may take comfort
from those ancient words, old yet
| forever new in their truth:
THE eternal God is thy dwelling
place and underneath are thea YER
lasting arms"
The cemetery dominates this end
OF X street, so that one must either
pass IT as the little children did
gathering sticks against the palings
either literally or -figuratively. or else
| must fall into the mood OF hope and
peace brought about by the silent
tents of green.
The big iron fence is fecked with
rust in places. but is of such thick
ness that 1t would last 1000 years
II II were never painted again.
Yonder stands a perfect holly tree
with its bright berries glistenine
through the green. This is one holly
that VIII escape the ravages OF the
unthinking this Christmas.
What beautiful sight it is, to be
sure, recalling the fairy tales OF
childhood days, or perhaps the little
known tale by Dickens, 1.-THE Holly
Tree" How many have ever read
that?
| AS we come to Twenty-ninth stree
we see the pretty chapel and a big
iron seat that is placed nearby. Few
| trucks come along r street today
| IL is as quiet as along a village street
| i'll midafternoon.
We pass the main entrance to the