Harlem Friendship House News 1944-11: Vol 4 Iss 6

4

ERIE

LIGHTS
AND SHADOWS

BY EDDIE DOHERTY

T’S only an overnight ride. It
isn’t necessary to put much in
the bag. A clean pair or two of

socks. Two shirts. A razor and a
tube of shaving cream. A comb
anda brush. A nail file. A picture
of the woman who owns your life.
A bathrobe. And, oh yes, a couple
of green ties to go with the socks
and the shirt.

Then maybe a slim book or two.

And the wooden statue of St.
Therese, of course. Why are there

no wooden statues of Blessed
Martin?
A bunch of handkerchiefs.

They'll fit into one of those empty
spaces, and you can put the picture
between their protecting folds.

Is there anything else you might
need? Letter paper and an en-
velope or two or three. A small
scissors for the trimming of your
mustache—there may not be a
good barbershop in the town. A
change of underwear.

No matter how much you put
into the bag, however, it seems
there is always something you for-
get.

Standing there, at the last min-
ute, wondering if you have re-
membered everything you get a
sort of silly idea. Suppose you were
packing your bag to go to the next
world, the life after death—what
would you put into it? What
would you need most?

RECORD of daily Mass and
Communion, of course. A list
of prayers you’ve said—yet
what a pitiful list it seems. Some
of the prayers are illegible, blurred,
crossed out, splotched with an inky

(Continued on page 8)

NDS!

f
A| N\

HIP HOUSE

2: Nat 2 ° .
Vol. 4, No. 6, Nov., 1944 Without Interracial Justice ih Social Justice Will Fail

New York, N. Y., 5 Cents

Bl. Martin de Porres

By JAMES

ATHER EDWARD LEEN, in
F his book on the Holy Ghost,
says that there is going on in

the world a revival in interest in
the lives of the saints, but that the
modern reader is seeking from
these works a way of life, rather
than an exposition of the marvel-
ous. The saints alone can show us

BLESSED AAARTIN

how to live. They can give us a
philosophy of hope.

In his work of spreading devo-
tion to Bl. Martin de Porres, the
Dominican, Father Norbert
Georges, never fails to stress the
importance of reading the life of
the blessed, because in this way
we learn how to come closer to
God. Eddie Doherty, thinking in

E. BULGER

headlines, puts the philosophy of
devotion to Bl. Martin this way: “It
puts God behind the eight ball.”

Expanding that headline, we
have the sound theological prin-
ciple that this devotion begets faith
and confidence, and miraculous ef-
fects find their cause in faith.
“Great is thy faith,” says Our
Saviour in pleased approval as He
works a miracle, and that refrain is
so familiar in the accounts of the
gospel that we are forced to con-
clude that not holiness of life but
simple faith is the touchstone to the
miraculous. The saints show us the
way to the kind of faith that moves
mountains. Bl. Martin had the
faith of a child in a loving Father
who refuses nothing.

ARTIN had faith in abund-
M ance, and modesty, humility,

and charity, too. Born De-
cember 9, 1579, in Lima, his child-
hood was spent in dire poverty; yet,
early in life, he gave evidence of
his future sanctity. His father was
a Spanish conqueror, Don Juan de
Porres, his mother a Negro, and
their union, a free love affair, was
unblessed by the church. The
father left the family during the
early years of Martin to shift for
itself. The boy worked as an ap-
prentice to a surgeon and at fifteen
received the habit of a Dominican
Tertiary. His were the most menial
tasks in the monastery.

It soon became apparent that the
young Negro was one of God’s fa-
vorites. His miracles would fill
many books: Father Louis de Gua-
dalupe cured on his deathbed;
Father Peter Montesdosca avoids
a leg amputation; a wild bull
threatening crowds is pacified; a
novice, Francis Varesco, is instant-
ly cured; the locked door of the cell

(Continued on page 8)

2 HARLEM FRIENDSHIP HOUSE NEWS November, 1944
Vol. 4 GSO 120 November, 1944 No. 6 NE morning, an orderly, whom I had helped to
nurse through a bout of typhoid fever, came

HARLEM FRIENDSHIP HOUSE NEWS into my room with my cape over his arm. “Nurse,”

7 BS he said, “here is your cape, here is the window; see

. sp aniccnmediigemal Bey ete Se that copse at the edge of the village; I have hidden
eee BPD. TRUCE. cscgecvcciccscccess aa stews Editor there a horse for you. Run and get it! The Hospital
eaten sibis DOMRaTT Council is almost on my heels, coming to arrest you

HARLEM FRIENDSHIP HOUSE NEWS is owned, operated and pub-

lished monthly September through June and bi-monthly, July-Augus

by Friendship House at 34 West 135th Street, New York 30, N. Y.

Entered as second class matter December 13, 1943, at the Post Office

at New York, N. Y., under the Act of March 3, 1879. Subscription
Price 50c Year. Sinezie copies 5c.

God Wrote in the Sand of Time

ES, today I know what it was all about... .His-

tory, men will call it a Revolution, and that

it was, too...a terrible, bloody, tragic revolution in

distant Russia, when men went mad, and shaking

their clenched fist against heaven proclaimed that
there was no God.

But to me, today, it is all so clear. ...Christ stooped
to my utter smallness and unworthiness, and wrote
for me, on the sands of time, the ABC’s of spiritual
life, knowing full well that I never could go beyond
them. ..and that the E’s and D’s were not for the like
of me.

What if the letters were written amidst the blood
and thunder of guns, of nations gone mad? Friends,
do not pity me...for God gave me, sinner that I am,
His greatest gift—pain, suffering, tears, blood and
sacrifice. ..the Cross.

It was all so long ago, yet it is all so vivid before
me, just as if it had happened yesterday. I was so
young then, and full of patriotic zeal. I got myself
enlisted as a Red Cross Nurse. Nothing glamorous
in that, scrubbing floors, doing all sorts of odd,
menial jobs...but there was a shortage of nurses in
Russia in the First World War. And that is how I
found myself in the Front Lines....To youth, life
and war is all an adventure, and two years passed
as a day.

Then came 1917, and the month of October. It was
in our Nurse’s dining-room that I first heard of Com-
munists. Our Chief Surgeon came in one night,
tears streaming down his cheeks, in his hands a tele-
gram. “Holy Russia has ceased to exist,” said he, “it
is now in the hands of the Communists who have
proclaimed a government of Soviets (Councils) of
Peasants and Workers, and an atheistic government
it is....God have mercy on us all....”

Two days later we knew what that meant. Order-
lies, dishwashers, menials of the hospital, formed
themselves into “Councils” and ruled in Terror.
Every night we could hear shots, and we knew that
they were shooting either the doctors or just the Offi-
cers. Often these would knock at the window of our
rooms, and implore us, Nurses, to give them false
passes, for we still had a supply of Red Cross letter-
heads, and with these we would manufacture a pass,
saying that “Private (the officers were disguised as
such) John Doe was being sent to such a village
on such and such an errand.” Armed with these
passes they could, maybe, pass by the Communist
sentinels and get to the village that usually had a
railroad station, and escape via it.

for those passes you gave the escaped officers. ...”
I did as I was told, thanking him, and off I was te
another hospital forty miles away.

There other friends gave me a peasant dress, and
thus disguised I reached the Railroad Station, thirty-
five miles away. And for two weeks traveled to Pet-
rograd, a distance I would have made in ordinary
times in thirty-six hours. ...But refugees were clut-
tering up the world then, as they did this war too,
and progress was slow. I finally came home....
Tired, weary, dirty, but above all hungry...too hun-
gry to listen to what my people were telling me of
the horrors they had suffered from the heads of the
New Government.

All I could think,of was food... .Food.

Making out a cheque, I dashed to the bank to get
money to get that Food....The teller was new... .I
did not know him. He took my cheque, look at it,
and then laughed as if all the devils were in his soul.
“Who the h—— do you think you are?” he shouted.
“Don’t you know, you bloated, bloody capitalists,
that all your money, your bonds, stocks, real estate,
your furs, jewels, have been socialized, nationalized,
taken away? Do’ you know that I can take the very
clothes off your back and shoot what is inside?
Get out of here before I change my mind and have
you arrested!”

Bewildered, frightened, I got out...still hungry.
At home my eyes fell on a thousand-dollar sterling
silver tea set. I grabbed that, and heavy as it was,
made my way to the street, where I had seen people
of “my class” exchange valuables for food. ...So did
I five minutes later....A thousand dollars’ worth of
silver for one herring and two potatoes....

LOVE St. Thomas of Aquinas. I wouldn’t hurt
him for the world, and therefore I would never
ask Catholics in America to cease to buy and sell,
save and invest, insure themselves, and acquire
homes....No! If I did, that would disrupt the Social
Order. All these things are good and wholesome in
themselves. ...But what I do say to my fellow-Cath-
olics in America, is that at no time should they make
a God of Security and worldly goods...because if
they do...for the salvation of their precious soul,
God may allow them to be taken away as mine
were....

Let us worship and love God first! And then the
rest will be added to us.

LOWLY as the days went, so did all valuables in
the house, and at the same rate. Then came

a day when there was nothing to exchange. That
was also the day when I started on my pilgrimage
of garbage cans...for hunger is a hard task-master
....From dawn to dark, I wandered, looking into the
garbage cans of the Communists, for they ate better
than the rest of Russia on whom the shadow of abso-
lute starvation was beginning to fall, and capitalists
as well as the aristocracy were barred from the pre-
cious food rationing cards, anyway....

(Continued on page 3)

November, 1944

Staff Reporter |

eC. Be

ADONNA _ FLAT’S _ supper
table often sees uniforms
around it and quite frequently the
people in these uniforms have done
a good day’s work for Friendship
House, particularly the sailors. Al
was one of these, a six-foot colored
seaman who had been a junior
counsellor before the war. One
precious afternoon of his leave had
been devoted to mopping the li-
brary and washing its windows.
These old boys of Friendship House
carry its ideas to places far from
New York.

Al was stationed in Mississippi
when he heard that a friend of his
was in the hospital. On his way
to the ward he was hailed by a
white fellow who had been his pal
at boot camp. The white fellow
was able to get around, so they
decided to go out. The only places
they could go were to the movies
or to get a beer in the canteen. Al
had seen the current movie and
they had a lot of experiences to
talk over since they last met, so
they went to the canteen.

The white boy was telling Al of
a race riot he had seen at one of
his stations when an S. P. came
over and said, “Go back to the col-
ored tables.”

“Now see here,” said the white
boy, “Aren’t you here to keep the
peace?”

“Yes,” said the S. P.

“Well, then, why try to start
something when we’re sitting here
minding our own business?”

But Al said, “Never mind. Come
on back here.”

So they went to the rear. Al sat
with his back to the colored table
and his friend had his back to the
adjoining white table and they con-
tinued their talk.

That night Al thought it over.
They had been on government
property, where there should have
been no restrictions. So next morn-
ing he went to see the commanding
officer. The attendant was unwill-
ing to let him in.

“If you don’t let me by, I’ll bust
my way in!”

“You're just crazy enough to.”

So he entered the C.O.’s office.

“Sit down, Patterson,” said the
officer. But Al merely stood at
ease.

“You know, sir, I’m very at-
tached to this battalion, so attached
that I’d go to the bottom with it.”

“Yes, Patterson, your record is
good.”

“Well, sir, I saw something last
night that I feel you should know.”

“Go ahead, Patterson.”

O Al told of the incident and
iy the colored boys who pushed
away their half-full glasses of beer
and left, muttering, “I wonder if
the C.O. knows about this?”

“Thank you, Patterson, I'll see
about it.”

So Al waited about three days to
give him time and then went over
to the canteen again with several
other northern colored boys. They
sat in different places in the hall
and all went well. Then some
southern colored boys came in.
They said to Al, “What do you
want to sit with the whites for? I
hate the sight of them. Our tables
are cooler anyway.”

(Al calls these “colored rebels”
who hate a man because his skin is
white to distinguish them from the
“white rebels” who hate a man be-
cause his skin is dark.)

“Now, boys, you remember when
we came into town before the can-
teen was built. We wanted a glass
of beer. They made us walk two
miles out of town and after the
pavement stopped we found we
had to drink in tumble-down
hovels, the like of which we'd
never seen before. That’s what
segregation means. How do you
like it? Stick with me and let’s
do.something about it when we get
a chance.”

Some of the colored boys stayed,
but others still went down to the
rear tables. Soon Al saw a group
of white boys he knew enter with
one whose harmonica and funny

(Continued on page 8)

HARLEM FRIENDSHIP HOUSE NEWS

Sands of Time

(Continued from page 2)

Several times a day, if I was
lucky, I would come home with
some potato peelings or a couple of
dirty cabbage leaves; and then
there was rejoicing, for one could
boil these and stem the painful
pangs of hunger for an hour or two
....We ate dogs, cats, mice, rats
...but so did many others. And
soon there weren’t any more to be
had....

I suppose we would have eventu-
ally simply died from hunger, if
the Communists had not decided to
hasten the process by a purge. The
first one to go in my family was
my brother. He had recently mar-
ried, and had a baby boy... .They
took him from home, wife and
child, at midnight, of one clear,
cold frosty night....They shot him
at 2 A. M. of the same morning
....When I went to get his body
in the Gestapo Building, the Red
Soldiers politely showed me to a
huge courtyard, where literally
hundreds of bodies were stacked
up like cords of wood are stacked
in Maine...and, smilingly, they
said, “These are all your brothers
and sisters. Find your very own
amongst them if you can....”

I could not....

Next, my father died, as a result
of Communistic Persecution. All
in all, from hunger like my aunt,
or from purges, twenty members of
my family were “eliminated”... .
The net was closing around us. My
mother, myself, two little brothers,
we decided to flee. ...

We had the Maginot line com-
plex then, too, long before there
was a Maginot Line. We thought
there was safety in distance....
America had, until very recently,
the same Maginot line complex;
only long after there was no Mag-
inot Line. ..the Ocean to them was
such a safety line....They forgot
that ideas know no physical ob-
stacles, that they cross oceans and
continents....A lot of them have
come here already, and they are
terrible, frightening, bad ideas; and
they will not be killed by bullets,
nor will they die in concentration
camps....The only way to kill an
idea is by a better idea... .Fellow
Catholics of America, you who
worry about Fifth Columns and the
like, have you ever stopped to

(Continued on page 7)

i

Around the House

ANN HARRIGAN

LITANY FOR LANDLORDS

HE kitchen faucet is down to a trickle
And everybody’s thirsty!
There’s no hot water this three months
And twenty people for dinner!
O, the kitchen plaster fell
Thank God no one was hurt!
O, the toilet’s on the bum again
Line forms on the right!
For the hundredth time,
Who’ll call the landlord?
For the 1000th time—
Who'll call his agent?
O. He’s never home
God help the landlord
God help his agent
For tomorrow’s the first of the month!
O God, do we have to pay that rent again?
That rent we beg and scrape so hard to get?
i For what?
; Leaking roofs every time
i it rains. ..or snows?
Ceilings so thin when the
kids upstairs let the water run
over it floods our floor below?
Books ruined....
Desks flooded... .
Papers, letters, property destroyed....

And the landlord sits in his
brand new flat on the other side
of town and muses on his good investments.
Sure...buy a house on the South Side
It’s a cinch....
Niggers live there; so you
don’t have to repair—easy money!
Just smile and say each month...yes, yes, we’ll see
about it, collect your rent and
So long...till next month
Easy money!

And so what?
So who’s gonna do anything about it?
The ones who say—
Oh, these people are shiftless....

there goes the plaster on you!)
So who’s gonna do anything about it?
The landlord?
He‘s dead!
Dead?
Yes, he died last week!
Gosh, we ought to pray for him
to pray for his soul
Someone said....
Yes, we ought to remember him in
our Masses....
He made his pile
from the bad fortune of the poor
Christ said, “Love your enemies—
Do good to them that hate you. Pray
for them that revile or mistreat you... .”
Think of it!

Look how ,.they treat property!...(Look out, Bill,

What a terrible thing it is for
a man to fall into the hands
of the living God.
Think_of a man facing his Maker
to give an account of his
stewardship!....
as each of us’ll have to do!
“What doth it profit a man

to gain the whole world—if
he suffer

the loss of his own soul?”

Think of the justice of God

who, after death, no longer

shows mercy!
Think what the landlord is fac-
ing—
Think of the sins that cry to heaven
for vengeance:
To grind the faces of the poor by

—paying inhuman, insuffi-
cient wages

—ignoring just demands

—making (and signing) re-
strictive covenants—

—mortgaging bodies and
souls for life by preying
on natural cravings for
“luxuries”

—enclosing some members of
Christ’s Mystical Body in
ghettoes

—making one class pay
through the nose for the
privilege of living in the
broken-down cast-offs of
another class;

Oh, yes...
The landlord knows...
Now...that

I am my brother’s keeper
Because my brother is Christ
and
Christ is my brother—
Do I?
Finis

Chicago Briefs
OE ROSMARIN, of Notre Dame,
and Bob Holzauer, coop-man
extraordinary, painted and mended
and cleaned the Casita—and then
the rains came—and our nice, new
floor got a cosmic ablution....

Our gay and cheerful sem,
Adolph Schalk (O’Schalknessy, to
you), captivated all hearts....

Jimmy Jones dropped in to say
hello en route west...Bravo! for
all the CA he’s doing to make peo-
ple understand that Christ is in all
men....

Jody Kohler, new staff member
from Minnesota, is studying social
psychiatry at Loyola....

Cliff Thomas, pioneer volunteer,
has originated a course for older
boys and girls, “Practical Moral
Problems”... .

On Having Reached ®
of Two

Feast of Blessed Martin
November 5, 1944

From Harlem FH

Anno Domi

“Keep the Negroes in thétr
(Tears are streaming do
Face.)

“They'll take jobs that wk mus
keep” —

(Thorns are sharp—theirdyp
deep.)

sg

“Those radicals don’t understand!
(Blood drips from each holy hand.

“Want to live with blacks?” An
eat?” » «

(Flesh is torn from holy feet.)

“Want them in our churche, too?
(“For they know not whé@t the
do.”)

“No inferior race must rise!”
(“The Redeemer gasps and dies.
—Lucine Pawlowski.

."o habitual practice fi ur
bloody martyrdom, a
cording to St. Benedict’s Rule cor
sists in obedience and person:
poverty, produces that heroic di:
position in souls without which s
cial services of a higher quality ar
unthinkable.
Dom Albert Hammen
-B.

t understand!”
ch holy hand.)

blacks?” And
acks « n
oly feet.)
hurcheg, too?”
ot wh@t they

+ 2
ist rise!
sps and dies.)
- Pawlowski.

tice pf un-
om, ch ac-
ict’s Rule con-
and personal
iat heroic dis-
hout which so-
ner quality are

wd
men ian

Staff Has 2nd
Orientation Week

.. HILDLERLEY, near Wheeling,

Ill., was the scene of the Sec-
ond Friendship House orientation
week from September 26 to 30. The
fresh, clean tang of the autumn air
was quite a contrast to the hot,
sultry weather we experienced

during the first orientation week
held in July down on noisy 43rd
street for the visiting volunteers.

With the gracious assistance of
Miss Johanna Doniat, who permit-
ted us to use the Calvert Club resi-
dences, and Mary Ellen Downs,
who drove us out with all our lug-
gage and groceries, the nine staff
members closed Friendship House
on Tuesday evening for four quiet
days in the country. That first
evening we gathered around a
roaring fire in the fireplace of St.
Joan’s with the Baroness and Ed-
die Doherty to discuss Friendship
House policies and techniques—a
very interesting and informal dis-
cussion through which we learned
to know each other much better be-
fore the evening closed with Com-
pline.

On Wednesday morning after a
brisk hike to Mass we picked deli-
cious red apples and ripe pears
from the trees in the orchard. Then
the Baroness, the foundress and
general director of Friendship
House, spoke to us on the virtue of
humility and discussed with us its
importance in connection with our
work.

After a somewhat, devious route,
Father Cantwell came out on
Thursday to say our Dialogue Mass
and to discuss with us the subjects
of Poverty and Obedience as they
apply to our life at Friendship
House. On Friday Monsignor Hil-
lenbrand offered Mass for us in our
Chapel-in-the-Orchard, and then
spoke to us on the Gift of Oneself
and the Mass.

In between lectures and discus-
sions we read, studied, sang, played
games, wrote letters, mended, and
just relaxed completely in prepa-
ration for the opening of our regu-
lar fall schedule at Friendship
House. The group formulated res-
olutions and unanimously decided
that this second week of orienta-
tion was a grand success.

—Josephine Kohler.

AoA

KIDS

OMEWHAT in the nature of an
~ experiment, we dug up the
old bushel basket of toys that
was gathering dust in the store-
room, washed and painted them up
and put them out on the little red
and blue shelves in the “toy cor-
ner” for the little kids. Among the
things that came to light were tey
washing machines, sinks and stoves
that really work—even a minia-
ture sewing machine that really
sews, or will, when we get a needle
to fit it.

Willie, or “Buckey,” brother of
our notorious tomboy, Delores, can
hardly wait till we do get a needle
for the sewing machine. Every day
when he comes in, it is his first
question. In the meantime, Delores
is (thank God) reaching the age
when ping pong is becoming a pos-
sibility. The result is that during
the GAMES period, at least, our
behavior problems are almost cut
in half.

Memories of the circus were once
again revived. The occasion was
the preparation for the laying of
the linoleum in the Casita. The

Cub Scouts had put on a “gigantic” .

circus in June to raise funds to
purchase the floor covering, but
due to restrictions, labor shortage,
and what not, we were unable to
get the linoleum immediately. Very
often a little cub would come in
and ask, “When are we going to
get the new linoleum?”, or Jess
Gill would say, “Didn’t we make
enough dough on the show?”

AST week the Cub Scouts and
Martinettes found the answer
to all their questions. The

Casita had been cleaned thorough-
ly and Bob even painted fish on the
bathroom walls and planted ivy
vines in the old wash basin. Beau-
tiful new linoleum covered the en-
tire floor. The Casita’s dingy floor
used to be just another bleak spot
in the neighborhood. And now...

But the linoleum also brought
along its troubles. The man who
laid the covering gave instructions
that we should use very little water
and we were prepared to be care-
ful. Before we had time to do any
cleaning, the janitor came and
turned off the water in the build-
ing. George and Horace were not
upstairs when he came. A little
while later they came home to get
a drink of water. They proceeded
to try one faucet after another, but

could not get one drop. At last
they decided to go outside in pur-
suit of water. Then the janitor re-
turned to turn on the water. The
boys had forgotten to turn the
faucets off and their mother was
sound asleep, so several hours later
we found our new floor under five
inches of water. Of course, we
have our perpetual leaks, holes,
ete., in the Casita, but this was a
new high.

We couldn’t help wondering if
the Cub Scouts had remembered
from June the part they had
played. At recess the question was
thrown out, “Who knows how we
got this wonderful new linoleum
and who helped us get it?” One or
two cubs were in the circle and the
rest were assorted Martinettes. The
guessing began and went like this:
The Government? No. Friendship
House? No. The Carpenter? No.
God? Yes, but not directly. You?
No. BLESSED MARTIN? No
(and here is where we received a
blistering look from Councilor,
Marcella). Mr. Clif? No. Finally
we got around to the correct an-
swer, that Cub Pack No. 3590, with
God’s help and Blessed Martin’s
prayers, were those directly respon-
sible.

SOCIAL SIGNIFICANCE DEPT.

Housing Problem No. 656

9TTIS true that Bobby Burns,
with poetic fortitude yearns
for the bite of a louse.
I got it
He should get it.
And Gerard Manley Hopkins, S. J.
Sang “Glory be to dappled
things”
yea...Oh yea
I’m spreckled
Not freckled,
heckled. ...

Certain Saints said love little
things,
precocious mites full of stings;
With the annointed
Now I am saying,
“Salve”
Using it, and praying.
So half white, half red
again I approach the de-
ceitful bed
and thus I ponder
shall I suffer attack, turn more
red,
or perchance,
with the Saints kneel through
the night
attain, sweet Blanche.
—Bob Holzauer.

XL

nee GN NEED EN NS ER Ie ese Releasing eye nae

HARLEM FRIENDSHIP HOUSE NEWS

November, 1944

The Baroness Jots [lt Down

a Holy Ghost certainly must have been close by when we decided

to start a Friendship House Outer Circle, back last January. For,
judging by the response to our invitation-in the October issue of F. H.
News, it was just what our readers were waiting for. Letters of applica-
tion are still pouring in and spilling over my desk. I am so happy, for now
our family is really growing....Please keep it up. For there is no limit

to our welcome.

All you have to do is to write to me at 8 West Walton

Place, Chicago 10, Ill., and apply for a membership. You will get our

literature, a membership card, and
the monthly letter that will sum-
marize for you the conversations
on the things of God we hold in
Chicago. Moreover, we will be
glad to hear from you, and to an-
swer any questions you might have
on the Lay Apostolate, either
Friendship House Style or general.
Do write...and let us together
work at the further extension of
Christ’s Kingdom on earth.

* *

R EV. FATHER MEDAR BU-

VALA of the Franciscan
Fathers, St. Joseph’s Church, 306
Ogden Avenue, Bastrop, Louisiana,
writes, “Bastrop is a town of 6,000,
of which nearly half is colored. I
am in Bastrop to lay the founda-
tions. for a Catholic Community.
At present there are no Catholics
here. The solitary one has left
town. I am trying to get a church
building, but above all a school.”

What a magnificent faith—what
a grand courage—to go into a town
where there are no Catholics—face
all the religious and racial preju-
dices of such a place—and give
one’s life to conquering them for
the gentle Christ. Money is but a
medium of exchange. Why not ex-
change some of your money for
souls? Why not answer thus
Christ’s tragic whisper from the
Cross, “Sitio,..I° Thirst..” For
souls. He did...does and always
will. Why not quench His thirst
now?

T was swell to visit New York’s
Friendship House. Grand to
see old friends, be greeted on fa-
miliar and beloved streets. Steep
myself into the memories of old
days, that time has mellowed and
glorified. It seems almost incred-
ible that October 15, 1944, marked
our fifteenth anniversary. It takes
me back to Toronto, Canada, and
an eager group of people, young
and old, who sat up several times
a week, and just talked about God
and the things of God, and would
not go home until the wee small
hours of the morning. Strange

i

what “talking about God” does....

At first it is outward...then,
somehow it turns right around and
becomes. inward. Maybe that is
what the Scriptures call “search-
ing of hearts.” Yes, that is just it.
One begins to search one’s heart
...and then...before you can say
“knife,” you find yourself “want-
ing,” and you begin spring cleaning
your soul...and that leads you to
your neighbor. ..and loving him...
because you now really, truly want
to love God...and there is no other
way to prove to God that you love
Him except through loving your
neighbor for His sake.

Once you start on the path of
love, there is no telling where you
will end. What a glorious, joyous

adventurous thing conversations
about God are. Why not start
some?

For G. W. Carver

He took the warm, brown earth
into his hands,

The warm brown earth, which
matched his own dark skin.

He closed his fist and felt the heat
expand,

The heat a Southern sun had put
therein.

He took the pure bright colors of
the earth

And to the world he made a gift of
them.

He took a plant men said had little
worth

And found a use for fruit and leaves
and stem.

But though he did these things and
many more,

He did not take the praise, instead
disclosed

That it had been the hand of God
that tore

The lock which keeps the Book of
Knowledge closed.

Good fertile fields he made from
useless sod—

This man with willing hands and
faith in God.

<

Raat Fae FRI AIRALIIm LIAIICeE arule

STATEMENT OF THE OWNERSHIP, MAN-
AGEMENT, Ci!RCULATION, ETC., REQUIRED
BY THE ACT OF CONGRESS OF AUGUST
24, 1912, AND MARCH 3, 1933

Of Harlem Friendship House News, published

monthly Sept.-June, bi-monthly July-Aug., at

Station L, New York, New York, for October

1, 1944.

State of New York, County of New York, ss:
Before me, a notary in and for the State and

county aforesaid, personally appeared Nancy

Grenell who, having been duly sworn according

to law, deposes and says that she is the Assist-

ant Editor of the Harlem Friendship House

News, and that the following is, to the best of

her knowledge and belief, a true statement of

the ownership, management (and if a daily
paper, the circulation), ete., of the aforesaid
publication for the date shown in the above

caption, required by the Act of August 24, 1912,

as amended by the Act of March 3, 1933, em-

bodied in section 537, Postal Laws and Regula-
tions, printed on the reverse of this form, to
wit:

1. That the names and addresses of the pub-
lisher, editor, managing editor, and business
managers are:

Publisher, Friendship House, 34 W. 135th St.,
New York 30, N. Y.

Editor, Catherine de
Pl.. Chicago 10, Ill.

Ass’t Editor, Nancy Grenell, 48 W. 138th St.,
New York 30, N. Y.

Business Managers—None.

2. That the owner is (If owned by a cor-
poration, its name and address must be stated
and also immediately thereunder the names and
addresses of stockholders owning or holding one
percent or mere of total amount of stock. If
not owned by a corporation, the names and
addresses of the individual owners must be
given. If owned by a firm, company. or other
unincorporated concern, its name and address,
as well as those of each individual member,
must be given.)

Hueck, & W. Walton

Not a corporation. Owned by Catherine de
Hueck, 8 W. Walton Pl., Chicago 10, Ill, Gen-
eral Director of Friendship House.; Nancy Gre-
nell, Local Director of Harlem Friendship House,
34 W. 135th St., New York 30, N. Y.

That the known bondholders, mortgagees,
and other security holders owning or holding
1 percent or more of total amount of bonds,
mortgages, or other securities are: (If there are
none, so state.) None.

4. That the two paragraphs next above giv-
ing the names of the owners, stockholders, and
security holders, if any, cpntain not only a list
of stockholders and security holders as they
appear upon the books of the company but also.
in cases where the stockholder or security holder
appers upen the books of the company as trus-
tee or in any other fiduciary relation, the name
of the person or corporation for whom such
trustee is acting, is given; also that the said
two paragraphs contain statements embracing
affiant’s full knowledge and belief as to the
circumstances and conditions under which stock-
holders and security holders who do not appear
upon the books of the company as _ trustees,
hold stock and securities in a canacity other
than that of a bona fide owner: and this affiant
has no reason to believe that any other person,
association, or cerporation has any interest di-
rect or indirect in the said stock, bonds, or
other securities than as so stated by her.

Nancy Grenell.,
Ass’t Editor

Sworn to and subscribed before me this 30th
day of Septembeg, 1944.

(Seal)
Notary

Strickland E. Cochrane

Public, Bronx County. Bronx Co.

. County
(My commis-

Clerk’s No. 51, Reg. No. 94-C-6, N. Y¥
Clerk’s No. 600, Reg. No. 339-C-6.
sion expires March 30, 1946.)

Subscribe to

FRIENDSHIP HOUSE NEWS

50 Cents a Year

Get Your Friends to

Subscribe!

34 West 135th Street
New York 30, New York

4044

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November, 1944

(Continued from page 3)
think that we Catholics have the
best ideas of all capable of killing
all the “Isms”?

For the dynamite of Christianity
can out-dynamite the dynamite of
Communism and Nazism sky-high,
if only you and I have the courage
to light the fuse of that Christian
dynamite...which is lighted only
with two kinds of matches—an in-

% tellectual allegiancy, worship and
service...and if we walk and talk
with Him, as children should....

On the,other hand, I saw that
night (and still see Catholics in
America do likewise) that I had
been taking shadows, and making,

° grotesque figurines out of them...
like kids in a kindergarten, little
and like the same children, giving
these figurines names...Behold
there they are....Wealth, Power
and Fame...and falling prostrate

ae before them, I had worshipped
them, just as Catholics in America
are still doing....

For ages Christians of all nations
have tried to do the impossible, in-
tegrate the service of God and
Mammon....Christ said it could

®@ not be done, but we still try...
wasting our holy energies. . .damn-
ing our immortal souls...we go on
trying....Until someone of us...
sits by a fire, looking at the face
of death, and seeing the face of

e Christ....Then it seems, and only
then (but by the grace of God) do
we at last comprehend the words
of A Kempis...“Vanity, all is van-
Re nis s

} Then, too, did I understand that

f sometimes it was easier to die for

‘gor with Christ than live for Him

...and how I longed to do just that,
Then when it seemed too late....
How I pray today that my be-

AUTUMN—1944

ANN HARRIGAN

8 West Walton Place

Sands of Time

Friendship House Lecture Bureau

Bookings Open For:

BARONESS C. DE HUECK

Write
CATHERINE DE HUECK

eo wo A est oe aenndtan @&

HARLEM FRIENDSHIP HOUSE NEWS

loved America might learn this
lesson, at the Tabernacles of its
many Churches, instead of in the
midst of the abomination of deso-
lation of wars and revolutions...
but it is always thus, only here and
there to God’s Missionaries on
earth, comes the vision of Truth,
and life like a puzzle falling into
place, and First Things Come First,
and second, second...Then....

It seems to me that the dream of
Friendship House was born then
for me at that fireplace, face to
face with death. .. .It was then that
I saw the whole pattern of lay mis-
sionary life....The Apostolate of
the Laity... .It seemed too late...
but it was not...the White Forces
of Russia, who were then waging
a Civil War against the Commu-
nists, by accident, fought their bat-
tle on our land, and were victori-
ous in that skirmish. We were lib-
erated from our imprisonment, and
after a long hospitalization we
were so weak...mother went to
Europe with my two little broth-
ers, and I came to America via
Canada....

To America...and...Harlem...
and Friendship House...and the
Lay Apostolate of Catholic Ac-
tion....

Friends, do not pity me... .In-
stead help me to thank God for His
great gift to me, so weak, so un-
worthy and so sinful....For He
has given me His greatest gift...
pain, tears, blood and sacrifice...

Yes...today it is all so clear to
me....For reasons of His very
own unfathomable ones... .Christ
stooped to my littleness and un-
worthiness, and wrote for me in
the sand of time the ABC’s of
spiritual life....

CATHERINE de HUECK.

WINTER—1944-45

NANCY GRENELL

Chicago 10, Ill.

‘child could get its directions. It is

BOOK

REVIEW

By Catherine de Hueck

MAP OF LIFE, by F. J. Sheed,
Sheed and Ward. $1.00.

UT the “Map of Life” has been
published years ago. Why
review it again? A natural

question. And yet there are books
that MUST be reviewed again and
again. For as time goes by their
significance grows, their usefulness
is increased, they answer greater
needs.

The MAP OF LIFE is just such a
book. Today we are all bogged
down in a labyrinth of false prem-
ises, we wander alone, no one hands
us a light to see by, nor a map to
extricate ourselves with. No one,
that is except Mr. Frank Sheed, via
his book.

And his MAP is so simple—a

so clear that a person with but a
tiny portion of his spiritual vision
could “read it”—for all it does is
restate first principles first. THAT
IS ALL. But in the chaotic think-
ing of today, what a joy, what a
relief, to find someone who knows
the way and explain it tersely,
simply, directly.

Yes, the MAP OF LIFE bears re-
viewing, and what is more, bears
rereading, restudying. There comes
with it an outline of it, for study
clubs and discussion groups. To-
gether the two will guide us out of
the labyrinth, out of the darkness
of it, into God’s light. Why not
buy it now..invite your friends..
read and study it together. .thus
lighting our lamps with its clear
oil of knowledge, and preparing
ourselves for the darkness that will
inevitably come, when the horrors
of war are over.

ORDER THESE BOOKS
THROUGH US

MARRIAGE AND MORALS
T. G. Wayne... ..$1.50
MAP OF LIFE
F. J. Sheed........ $1.00
SPLENDOR OF SORROW
Eddie Doherty ....$1.50
GALL AND HONEY
Eddie Doherty ....$2.75

Larne ne chee RP RCE EH

Martin de Porres
(Continued from page 1)

of Rodrigo Melendez is entered and
Martin ministers to the sick man;
boys are miraculously carried back
to the convent; Martin is seen fly-
ing through corridors as a ball of
fire; all these things become so
commonplace as to be accepted as
the regular course of events in the
life of this saint.

HE wonders of his life he re-
T peats today, and he turns from
important concernsiof lift and
death to relatively unimportant fa-
vors. A house is sold; a man late
for a train finds that the train waits
for him; an examination that looked
hopeless is passed; and letters are
received from long lost friends.
There was the member of the Serra
Club, for example, whose brother
had not been heard from for many
months, but on an appeal to BI.
Martin relief from this worry is
wiped out on the instant. “Help

us, Blessed Martin; help us and get ,

word from my brother.” The brief
prayer is concluded, and opening
the paper, my friend sees his broth-
er’s name listed as having arrived
safely in Australia!

Bl. Martin is a great wonder
worker, but the Holy Ghost makes
use of such wonders only to bring
us closer to God. That is Martin’s
mission. We cannot love this
humble saint, unless we try to em-
ulate his charity, and charity is a
cloak covering all:of God’s crea-
tures. Bright jewel in the crown of
Our Lady, pray for us.

DEVOTION TO THE HOLY
GHOST is not a devotion of prayers
and novenas as people sometimes
have for the saints, but it is such a
connection with the Divine Spirit
that our whole life is permeated by
it. It gives the soul a different
character, a certain mark, and
makes evident to those about us
that we are supernaturalized.
When we permit the Holy Spirit to
take possession of our souls, then
every little action is changed,
whether one is praying or cook-
ing or merely opening and closing
a door. S. M. S.

HARLEM FRIENDSHIP HOUSE NEWS

Lights and Shadows
(Continued from page 1)

pen, and there are so many many
blank spaces.

A ledger of good deeds. What a
shabby thing it is. Suppose the
angels look embarrassed when they
gaze upon it. And suppose the
guardian of the gate sort of holds
his nose when he examines it! Well,
it’s all you have in the way of a
record, so in it goes. For good or
bad.

And the book of your sacrifices,
if any—the little mortifications you
have inflicted on yourself for the
love of God, the slights and slurs
you have accepted for His sake.
Things like that.

Then, whether you like it or not,
you must fill up the bag with sins,
little and big, sins of commission
and omission. These take up so
much room you can scarce close
the bag. But there’s no help for it.
You haven’t much time. The train
that will carry you away will not
wait.

You can’t help, though, standing
over the bag, wondering if there
isn’t something you’ve forgotten,
some little but essential thing,
some article you just can’t do with-
out.

Oh. An act of contrition! If you
can find it in time everything will
be all right. You can throw out
the sins. The bag will close easily.
It will be no burden to carry. And
you can go on your way unworried.

Return Postage Guaranteed
FRIENDSHIP HOUSE
34 West 135th St., New York 30, N. Y.

Staff Reporter
(Continued from page 3)

songs were the life of every bar-
racks he had been in. Al told them
what was up and asked them to go
back to the recalcitrant ones and
cheer them up. Before long white
and colored were singing together.
The old, hard tight feeling of strain
and hate was gone and morale
went up 1,000 percent in the whole
camp.

oe Al went up to the S. P.

and asked him about how he
should behave in the South, as he
might get killed for doing some-
thing he didn’t even know was con-
sidered wrong. The S.P. loosened
up and gave him some brotherly
lessons in the complicated, delicate
and dangerous etiquette of racial
relations in the South. When he
finished Al explained the Mystical
Body as he had heard the Baroness
do so many times. The S. P. said,
“IT see the idea and I see in my
mind that it’s right, but I still have
the same feeling in my heart.” Al
answered, “That is because your
heart is dead. If you pray enough
it will come to life again. We
should do what we know is right
even if we don’t feel like it.”

To the staff of Friendship House
this was a very fine story, not only
because of Al’s fine voice and his
humorous way of talking, but be-
cause it gave another instance of
the influence Friendship House can
have in clearing up explosive situa-
tior.s.

If Americans would utilize the
grace of Christ and earnestly strive
to fullfill its teaching, many of our
greater social evils would be miti-
gated, and the Negro would receive
more equitable treatment.

November, 1944

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