Y.M.C.A. NOTES

Wanganui Chronicle, Volume LXXXIII, Issue 20005, 23 November 1927, Page 14

Y.M.C.A. NOTES

BOYS’ DEPARTMENT. INTER-CLUB ATHLETICS. (Contributed by the Association.) Primary.—Owing to the weather, the events scheduled for last Wednesday had to be postponed till this week. Secondary.—An excellent field contested the events on Friday night. The results were as follow: 100 Yards.—Briscoe (Arawa “B”) 1, Harrison (Hau Hau) 2, Freeman (Hau Hau), 3. Club points gained were Aotea 63, Arawa “A” 131, Arawa “B” 41, Hau Hau 98. Sack Relay.—Hau Hau 1, Arawa “A” 2, Aotea 3. Club points:—Aotea 5, Arawa “A’’ 11, Hau Hau 9. Club Relay.—Hau Hau 1, Arawa “A” 2, Aotea 3. Club points, Aotea 5, Arawa 11, Hau Hau 13. The total points gained in this section to date are:—Aotea 158, Arawa “A” 253, Arawa “B” 108, Hau Hau 234. Championship points to date are: Freeman .19, Briscoe 11, Harrison W., 5, Tremewan 5, Shearer 3, Galyer, 1, O ’Keefe 1. This week the final events, the potato race and the cross-country run will be held. The route for the cross country is as follows: —From pavilion, Victoria Park, down zig zag to Great North-western Road, to Brassey Street, on right up Brassey Street, along Virginia Road, into Virginia Lake grounds, round lake to right, up North Road to Parkes Avenue on left, down Parkes Avenue to Parsons Street, into Victoria Park, round park, finish at pavilion. (2} miles). Club teams will supply potatoes for the relay. The potato race will commence at 6.45, the cross country at 7 p.m. on Friday next at Victoria Park. SUMMER CAMP FOB BOYS. It is often asked what is the purpose of a Y.M.CA. camp for boys. The purpose of all the camps of the Association throughout the world is to develop Christian character and to train for leadership. This purpose is accomplished throu’gh these objectives; health attainment; nature acquaintances; wholesome recreation; social adjustment; self-reli-ance; joy of achievement; altruistic service; and religious service. It is because wc believe that it is possible to achieve these objectives that we would ask parents who are interested in the camp to make inquiries about this opportunity of giving their sons a holiday at the Y.M.C.A. camp at Kai Iwi. THE PIGS OF A FAB COUNTRY. (By Bernard C. Crausen, from Association Men.) I think it was New Year’s Day. Of course I have no way of proving it. The story is undated. There is no positive indication of the season. But it is the kind of event which is characteristic of the beginning of a New Year. There seems to have been no outward circumstances which reminded him of the prosperity and plenty of his father’s home. No recollected strain of music, no word from a friend who had lived in the home town, served to start his wistful thoughts in the direction of better days. He came unto himself, so the narrative reads.

You may disagree with me. But that sounds like New Year’s Day to me . . . * . So for this sermon there has been no mere ordinary preparation. No hymns and prayers have sought to play upon your psychological combinations. You were ready before I started to preach. The season had already solemnised every thought. You were coming to yourself. Just as he came to himself. In the long ago. Perhaps at New Year’s Day. Pigs! His reawakened mind sensed them with new poignancy. They had not been so bad before. Al] in a day’s work. He had managed his duties without complaint. Hunger can drive a man to almost anything. And he was hungry. There were times when he would have taken for himself some of the food which the animals noisily guzzled—if he had dared. But on New Year’s Day, he fell to thinking about home, and all the sordid shame of his surroundings poured in over his mind like a dark storm cloud over-shadowing the whole dome of the sky. . . . Now, this lad had known better things. The memories of happy days on the farm were still real to him. He had known the fragrance of a farm kitchen at breakfast time; he had known the quiet hum and buzz of bees droning through the summer afternoon, and the buoyant “ ho-hilly-ho! ” of men who worked through the fields together ■ —he had known the pleasant talk of Jong evenings when the work was done and the sky was just beginning to fade into night. Aye, there’s the rub! He fell to remembering. . . . Of course, this lad would have died among the pigs had he been fool enough to suppose that New Year’s Day could be a success without translating his mental experience into the programme. He said, “I will arise and go to my father. ’ ’ I think he said it out loud, so that the very pigs could hear. He was wise if he did. For these hidden resolutions of secret desire, modestly kept from expression lest they fail in execution, very often die still-born, and our hopes are bitterly mocked by them. Even if there arc no ears but pigs’ ears to listen, say the words of your determination out loud, without fear or shame. He prepared in advance the exact statement of his appeal, when he should arrive at his father’s house! Then he arose! Man, the drama in those unobtrusive words! Out of the ruck of a million perished resolutions, this man had the grit to stand. He had been down in the mud with the pigs. He clenched his hands, his lips flat-

tened into a thin red line of determination his eyes flashed, a purpose galvanised his limbs. He stood to his feet and started. Way down the road, his father caught a glimpse of him. The boy had been gone for months. Yet this day, the father was watching. Was it because this was New Year’s Day, and fathers know what always happens on New Year’s Day, and cannot give up hoping? Or had this broken-hearted father been watching every day, with his patience still surviving? Certain we may be that this was no mere stray glance. When the boy was yet a great way off, his father saw him, and was moved with compassion, and ran—Ql What a New Year’s Day it was! Of course, the boy began blurting out his carefullly-prcpared sentences of repentance—the creed of his correct apology. But before he had managed the first sentence, the father broke in with an order to his servants, and the canned words of his pleading were lost in tears and caresses. You cannot avoid “coming to yourself.” The idea will not go away at your bidding. But the day will be a holy one only if, in the night of your manhood, you turn the thought into a deed, and “arise and come to your Father. ’ ’