Evening star., 1940-06-10
Budding Romances May Be Cause Break Old Friendships
Real Heroes
In Battles
Of Life
Many Not Properl!
Equipped for Jobs
But Garry on
BY DOROTHY DIX

The greatest heroes in the world
are the men and women who fight
the battle of life with blunt weapons.
Any one with drop of red blood
in his veins can lead forlorn hope
with the band playing the flags fly
ing and the mob cheering him on
Any one in a moment of impulse can
dash into burning house or plunge
Into the water to save life. Any one
can make a single spectacular sacri-
flee that gets his name on the front
pages of the newspapers. Any one
with health and brains and talent
can succeed. They deserve their
laurel Wreaths, but how much great
er the achievements OF those humble
souls who, without talent, without
health or strength, with no flags
flying and no voice shouting their
praises, still go on and do their part
in the world and who fight the battle
of life with dull weapons and win
out. As I write these lines I am
thinking of one Of these heroes. He
is little dingv drled-up old bach
elor whose abilities have never taken
him higher than clerks desk in
a counting room. He is not clever.
He cannot do things swiftly. Ideas
come to him slowly He can only
work patiently and faithfully and
honestly. These are not the quail
tiles that insure promotion, but they
hold down a job and on the meager
wage that he has earned he has
supported household OF helpless old
women who were left dependent on
him He is one who has fought the
battle with blunt weapons.
And I think of another mana
man without education, who labors
at a menlal occupation for weary
hours every day and then does extra
dren may have better advantages
than he had.
His shoulders are bent under the
burden he carries. His hands are
knotted and gnarled He is shabby.
He never thinks of spending a cent
upon his own pleasure. He is worn
with labor until his very soul faints
with WEAKNESS, but he keeps his
children at school instead of putting
them to work to help him.
l think of a woman who was a
pretty, petted, spoiled young girl,
accustomed in her youth to every
comfort and luxury She married
a drunken brute. who spent her
money and abused and misused her
and finally deserted her leaving her
pennllesS, with little baby in her
arms and two old women with no.
body to lean upon but her.
This woman had never done a
DAYS work in her life She had no
trade or profession or special apti-
tude for anything.
And I think also of another wom-
an, a little village Glessmaker, so
unskllled she cannot even ask first
class prices for her work.
This poor little seamStress crowd
ed all of the children into her tiny
cottage, and by a miracle of self
sacrifice and labor she clothed and
educated them and brought them
up to be fine men and women.
She was a figure Of fun in her
slimpsy dresses and her battered old
hat. but I never saw her without
thinking that she should be clothed
in purple and her breast covered
with medals, for she was a hero who
had fought the battle of life with
dull weapons and triumphed.
All honor to the brilliant and the
strong who achieve success! But
surely our finest tribute of admir-
alton should go to those who are
weak and not wise or brilliant. who
are perhaps not even brave, but who
do great things through sheer loyalty
and the sense Of duty-those who
fight the battle of life with duh
?WeapOnS. and win.