We use Optical Character Recognition (OCR) during our scanning and processing workflow to make the content of each page searchable. You can view the automatically generated text below as well as copy and paste individual pieces of text to quote in your own work.
Text recognition is never 100% accurate. Many parts of the scanned page may not be reflected in the OCR text output, including: images, page layout, certain fonts or handwriting.
ow might drift through the school roof, or the kids might not get mhmallows in their hot-lunch cocoa. Whatever the problem, the P.-T. A. will not let it go unconquered.
by ROBERT STEIN
Champion Of America s
Children
N THE tiny Pacific island of Saipan recently, a group of Qerican mothers gathered in a ram' ckle meeting house. Wives of my officers stationed on the island, ;y had decided to build and furnish school for the native children — jfjtine of whom had ever learned to ■k id or write. jRecalling their activities back home the States, they immediately forma parent-teacher association — the (or ipan P.'T. A. Then, they attacked ; biggest obstacle to their plans: sing money for the school. After urs of fruitless discussion, a young □tenant's wife stood up and shyly ered a suggestion.
This may sound silly," she began logetically, "but why don't we lect the empty pop bottles lying
around the island? There must be thousands. They've been piling up ever since our soldiers landed here during the war. If we turned them in for refund, we might get enough money to start building the school."
Next month, the Saipan P.-T. A. went to work. In a few weeks, the women and children had hauled in more than 700,000 pop bottles from every corner of the island. Then, they cashed them in for $15,000 — enough to build the school, buy books and hire teachers!
In the South Pacific or South Dakota, such ingenuity and determination are trademarks of more than 6,160,000 American men and women who belong to parent-teacher associations. They are members of 40,000 local P.-T. A.'s scattered throughout