Radio mirror (Jan-June 1947)

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I'm a drum majorette! I'm going to lead a parade — " Mary pirouetted around the room in her high, red, stiff hat. "You want I should put that thing on my head, at my age?" But Italo was only joking and he placed the silly paper shako on his head with the air of a cavalier. "Oho! ... a clown! All I need is a red nose and baggy trousers!" Tony capered around the room and raised his whistle to his lips. "Not yet . . . listen!" They all paused, expectantly. Then, suddenly — from out the open window — there came a dull, booming sound. On its heels there rose the screaming shrill of a gigantic siren. And then pandemonium broke loose. It was twelve o'clock. It was 1947! "Happy New Year! Happy New Year, everybody!" Italo kissed his older daughter. Someone grabbed little Mary and whirled her around in a spinning circle. Hands touched hands in greeting; voices mingled with the clatter of buzzers on wood and the screech of whistles. It was the New Year! It was the world's hope for peace ... it was the future dawning for those who dwelt on Hester Street. "Yippee! Happy New Year, Ruth!" This from David and his clumsy, stillboyish hug was that of a brother to a sister. She saw him hug Carlotta the same way and rub his face in Mary's curls. Her heart pounded strangely — she had been accepted, almost, as part of this family group. A hand touched her shoulder. She spun around quickly. "Happy New Year, Ruth." "Oh — the same to you, Naomi." "You jumped when I touched you just then. Were you hoping it was Jack come to see the New Year in with you?" "Oh, Naomi, I've been praying all evening he'd come. I want to tell him something. I want to tell him I've learned my lesson. I'm not homesick any more, Naomi. Why, these people are just like my own family — they like me and they make me feel that I fit in, too. Jack's begged me to make friends but I wouldn't. I said that people here couldn't be like my own folks and, my own friends at home. He even suggested we go to church here and I did — once. But the minister didn't look or talk like our old Reverend Allen at home and I wouldn't go again." She hung her head. "I've been so selfish. Even now, thinking about home and remembering how my father used to read a chapter out of the Bible to us just before the whistles blew for the New Year — even that doesn't make me feel lonesome. That music Keith played, it was almost like a prayer for all of us." Naomi nodded, and dodged a dancing couple who were doing a joyful, if inexpert heel-and-toe polka around the room. She drew the other girl aside. "Did you ever read the story of Ruth in the Old Testament, dear? Do you remember how she had to make a choice after her husband died? She had left her family and her homeland to be with him and now she had to decide whether she wanted to return to her own home. But she said to her mother-in-law: ' . . . whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge; thy people shall be my people — '." The little bride echoed, softly, '■'. . . whither thou goest . . ." There was a new strength and purpose in her soft young face. "That Ruth knew it was seldom wise to go back. We must go forward. We must take our lives where we find them and work out our destinies there. It is fear that makes us run back to something safe and remembered, but when we do, we usually find we have outgrown it." "I KNOW. You were right and so was 1 Jack. All I could think about was my own unhappiness. If I had thought about other people, it might have been like tonight — helping David I forgot myself and I had such a wonderful time!" A sudden thought struck her. "Did you realize that the mother-inlaw in the Bible story was called Naomi? Not that you are old enough to be my mother." "I'm very happy if I was able to give you the same kind of advice I know your own mother would have given you, Ruth." "You did. She would have been so ashamed of me. She made a home for my father when — Naomi — listen!" Someone was knocking on the door; and when Italo opened it, they saw a stranger — a young man with truculent wariness and suspicion in his eyes. A young man whose tie was twisted and whose hat was pushed far back on his head in a defiant gesture. He said nothing in response to Italo's greeting, but his eyes swept the room. But he was no stranger to Ruth. With one glad cry she ran to the doorway and threw herself into his arms. Naomi was too far away to hear what they were saying. But not too far to watch their expressions. And she saw the truculence and the stiffness in Jack Hewlett's eyes gradually fade. She saw Ruth's lips move as she whispered to him. Almost, Naomi could tell what the girl was saying by her actions . . . her shame-faced apology, her plea for. understanding, the promise in her eyes. And then the whole party — who had been politely pretending to ignore the little scene — saw the strange young man sweep the girl off her feet and hug her tight, his face shining with happiness. They walked into the room, still holding tight to each other, and now Naomi could not help overhearing their words. ". . . and I'm so sorry, Jack, that because of me we missed our first New Year's party together. We didn't get to see the old year out — our very first year of marriage." He looked down at her and grinned. "I like it that way, Ruthie. We didn't make much of a real marriage in the old year, anyway. I'm glad we didn't have to look at each other while it went. It's the new year for us, darling. We don't have to look back at our mistakes — we can look forward to starting all over again." Naomi was not only listening, but unashamedly watching. She rejoiced in the change that speech had made in Ruth's face — a few hours before so tear-streaked and hopeless, now brilliant with love and confidence and hope. It was a sight worth watching! Keith's hand on her arm, and his low, understanding chuckle made her turn