108
February 1927
T h e ' K i n g ’ s
B u s i n e s s
“Thanksgiving Day at Bible Institute”
The sun streaming through my window wakened me. ' As I opened my eyes I looked out into the court and up to the ninth floor roof garden where rich colored poinsettias on tall graceful stems were swaying to and fro—just as though they
Thanksgiving message. The student choir of the Bible Institute, directed by Mr. ,J. B.' Trowbridge, rendered selections from Handel’s “Messiah” and after the message sang the “Hallelujah” chorus, which re-echoed in the hearts of the hearers.
had been on an early morning l a r k and were now whispering to each other about it. I hurriedly dressed for early breakfast and what a happy crowd was there. Af ter. singing a bright chorus and returning thanks you should have heard the merry chatter. But I must not tarry here for my re cital of events has just begun. Devotions in Lecture Room 1 , led by Mr. Hubbard followed. There were songs and testimonies of praise and thanks giving. “I thank God for bringing me out of d a r k n e s s into light’^—“For a pray ing mofher”—“H i s saving and keeping power” and on and on. ,As I sat there thinking it came to me, “Yes, just six years ago today this very hour in a Chapel of a . Catholic Con vent I was singing in a choir, at e a r l y mass.” Memory re called t h a t day so vividly. As the or gan played those ma jestic melodies and we sang our Latin anthems there w a s no peace within, but such a lonely unrest in my heart. I re membered how, as I looked down f r o m my place in the ele vated choir loft and saw the line on either side of the chapel, the sisters in black gowns and the students in b l a c k dresses and white veils, kneeling before the images and going forward to re ceive the “Body and B l o o d ” from th e hands of the priest, my eyes filled with tears and sobs shook me. A dear friend' took me to my room, but t h e r e was no comfort. THANKS GIVING? T h a n k s
At 12:45 P. M. Fac ulty and S t u d e n t Body adjourned to t h e dining r oom, where a wonderful turkey dinner w a s served. The day was well planned for im mediately after our repast we hurried for our hats and Coats and .“hiecl’i i us to Westlake Park. Some of us liked boating and we maneuvered our Bible Institute fleet together in the midst of the lake and with a saxophone ac companiment s a n g gospel c h o r u s e s . Others played games, which proved of in terest to the onlook ers, who couldn’t im agine a g r o u p of young people so happy without having hired an orchestra and exe cuting a fox trot. But we must -hurry back. There are more good things ahead. Just time for a mo ment’s rest and then to the luncheon in the dining room at 5 :30 P. M. I didn’t know there c o u l d be so much “pep” left after a day as busy as this had been. Groups in different parts of the dining room took it upon themselves by means of a little song “Stand up—Stand up —Stand up Mr. ----- , Stand up—Stand up,” to unofficially intro duce the Faculty. One young man who has recently “come into his own” or perhaps “secured his own,” w i t h much embar rassment a n d sur prise, made his public debut. The final event of the day was a “sing” in th e Fishermen’s Club Room, led ' by Mr. Books. This was followed by a pro gram and a side-split ting good time, pre- sided over by our
Dedicated to Biola Alumni School of the Golden West.
Ralph Atkinson
Herbert Q. Tovey — S B =i-
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I - 0 - 9 In the far gold-en West: there’s a school I love best, A school made for “Tho’the tasks here are hard,” we studentswould say, “We do not know In the isles of the sea, SouthA-mer - i - ca’s land, In Chi -na and When in lone - li - ness oft, with our fields far a - part, In mem-’ry we Then one day we shall see, from the hills far a - way How gent - ly our
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of-times our trysting place be. His grace we the vic-t’ry won.
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International Copyright 1927, by Herbert G. Tovey
for what? But NOW! Two years ago Christ saved me from my sins after the Holy Spirit had convicted me for more than three weeks. He has led me since and has graciously given me the privilege of getting an education at the Bible Institute of Los Angeles. At 10:45 John McNeill the famous Scotch preacher whom we have the privilege of hearing Wednesday and Friday nights and also Lord’s day morning and evening, brought to us the
own Dr. Atkinson. Now what we wish we knew is this: Is he really Irish pr really Scotch? He knows enough jokes on either to be both. Dr. John McNeill was the unprepared recipient of many of these good bits of wifi The Faculty Quartette proved a real treat to us, but was the bane of Dr. Atkinson’s existence because he was not in it. (Continued on page 128)
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