Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1929-01-07
BY THOMAS r. HENRY.
ltE'en though it be a cross"

tIlOuSkk ~ NC d SAOoo'
Peter was one of the worst problem
children the District schools have know
in recent years.
Harold D. Fife, principal Of the Gale'
Special School, has a stack of letters
in his desk about the child. Some ex
press unmitigated disgust; others sym
pathy, but hopeleSsness. Peter had beer
tried with all sorts Of teachers. Thu
strict disciplinarians found him unman'
ageable and dangerous. The gentle
motherly kind wasted their tenderness
The mental research department clasSl'
fed him as dullard.
Peter was ragged, dirty and thief
His adolescent mind was a sewer Of
filthy thoughts. Girls weren't safe II
the same room with him. When HI
was asked a question he would reply
with a string of oathS and naStineSs
that would have shocked a mule driver
He took no interest In anything offered
by the schools. He was an habitua
truant.
Here, 1t seemed, there was congeni-
tai delinquent, if such creature ever
existed.
AS last resort Peter was transferred
to the Gales Special School. He was q
| tried to find some point of contact with
whatever spark Of goodness there might
be in the child. His personality was
impenetrable. Even among the prob
lem cases he was outStandingly bad
Nothing could be found which inter-
ested him upon which to condition
other interests. Here at last, Fife
thought, was the exceptional case
where his theories didn't work.
Tried to Make Friends.
Day after day the teacher talked
with the boy on his own level and tried
to make friends with him. The net re-
suit apparently was only slight les
sening of the animosity which the child
felt for all teachers and all authority.
That point of contact in the child's
personality with decency and aSpira-
ton which Fife thinks exists some
where in every one could not be located
and there seemed no alternative but to
abandon him to a reform school-and
probably to succession Of prisons
after that-for the protection OF society.
Suddenly, strangely, beautifully, came
the break.
Peter had been showing the world an
artificial, self-created shell Of per-
sonality Behind this he had hid his
real self-a highly spiritual, luminous,
sanity self with Christlike elements
about it.
He came to Flies desk after school
one afternoon.
Query About Cross.
eyer know dem crosses dey sticks on
eyes"
"Well, what I wants to know is how
much the things costs"
81 don't know-about $50, should
think"
Fife noticed the boys face fall.
GAS much as tfat?"
eyes. You see, they have to carve
them out Of pretty big piece Of stone
and there Is a lot Of heavy work"
Don't they ever make 'em of nothing
but stone that don't cost so much?"
Eyes. You might make one out Of
wood
could I make one?"
81 should think you could. I'd help
you some. Why are you interested In
crosses, Peter?"
The old look Of hostility came over
Peters face at this question. The
teacher saw that he had made a mis-
take, that 1t was too soon to ask.
WdI1 W AAoNO O. SAooo, VaAc wy
said.
Fife took him to a room downstairs
where there was some lumber and a
few tools. He showed him rapidly how
the tools were used.
Made Many Mistakes.
go ahead and rake your cross" he
said
From that time on he didn't bother
Peter with school work Every morning
the boy went to the lumber room, shut
himself in and worked. He made many
mistakes. There was much to be done
over. But he seemed absorbed in his
work.
Never before had Peter shown any
mechanical interests. For the first time
something had been found which kept
him out Of mischief. Fife visited him
every day and coached him a little.
Peter rather resented this coaching, but
he listened and prof1ted by it. He grew
more and more friendly with the
teacher
Finally Fife judged that the time was
ripe to try once more to go little
deeper.
"Peter, you've never told me why you
are interested in crosses" he said.
ooh. didn't I? Well, you see, it's
like this
A marvellous transformation had come
over the dirty, foul-mouthed boy in
that moment.
His mother had died 10 years before,
leaving his father. a poor day laborer,
with a large family.
Outline of Stones.
The family was poor. The mother
had been buried in corner of one of
the Washington cemeteries. They had
put no headStone over her grave.
Brush and weeds had grown over it.
The poor woman was cast utterly out
of the worlds memory.
But there was an outline of stones
around the space into which her coffin
had been lowered. Peter had put them
there.
Twice year little Peter had trudged
to the cemetery and filled in the gaps
in that outline of stones. He had been
doing this, unknown to any one else, all
the time that his school teachers had
been calling him the worst boy in
Washington. He had been doing this
all the time that his tongue was so
| filthy that the most hardened teachers,
men and women, couldn't endure lis
tening to him.
There he would kneel In the long
grass, replacing the scattered stones.
All around him, over the graves OF
the mothers of other little boys, rose