Evening star., 1936-08-04
City Child
YearnS for
Camp Life
Help Make 1t Possible
for Less Fortunate
to Go.
RY ANGELO PATRI,

DA EAANNIAo = Al AsAs
THE city is no place for children,
especially in August. Children
need plenty Of space. the feel Of the
earth under them, the infinite sky
above them, the wide horizon of the
sea and the lift of the everlasting
hills. Fresh air and sunshine and
cool spring water, fresh things to eat,
milk that Is the essence Of sweet grass
and clover are the necessities of their
growth. If you say this is ideal then
I must say that this was their right
full heritage until men built cities and
bred children within their sitting
walls Children used to be born in
the country-where they now belong.
The cities have been built. how
ever, and the children, thousands of
them, are forced to live under con-
ditions that are bad enough the year
round. but which become intoleraole
in the August heat. Imagine having
to breathe in tiny rooms, cut off from
even the light, airs that stir above
the heated city. Think what it is
to lie twisting and turning, gasping for
air throughout the sitting night: to
rise in the morning to face another
scorching day, the heat rising in sick
ening waves from pavements SO hot
they burn ones soles. Then comes
the headache, the loss of appetite, the
heat sickness that only the cool, sweet
breath of the country can heal.
Nothing speaks SO eloquently of
the suffering of city children during
the hot spell as the fire escape beds.
One sees them as the IL" train
passes through the crowded districts
A board is placed over the opening
and scrap Of carpet is laid tor the
mattress. Here the children lie in
hope of catching the slightest air that
stirs. Their father and mother have
given them the preferred place while
they sought what relief they might
get on the sidewalk or the roof. Such
things should not be in America.
The children whose parents could
pay to send them to camps have done
so. These children are enjoying the
freedom Of the country and all that
that means. They run barefooted
along the wet shores, and the cool sand
sends thrills of delight through their
singing bodies. They lie under the
shade of the pine woods: they march,
chanting their camp songs, along the
mountain roads; they swim the lakes
and the rivers and climb the hills to
stretch their bodies and souls to meet
the view of earth and sky and water.
They are happy and healthy and
beautiful to behold, for their eyes shine
and their skins glow, and their feet
are light on the hills.
These children are where they be-
long. Those that were left behind
belong there, too. 1t is heart-breaking
to think of them choking in the hot,
dusty, smelly city while the country
waits. beckoning to them. It is sad
dening to think of them sick with
longing for the freedom and cleanli-
ness of the country and feeling utterly
helpless to do anything about it.
You can do something about 1t. You
can send your check this day to help
one heat-weary, city-sick child get
away to where he can breathe sweet
peace, where he can forget his misery
and learn to laugh. You have this
privilege. You face this duty. Help!
Children need so little it is shame
not to give it. Do something about
this today. won't you?
Copyright, 1850