MOOSEHEART MAGAZINE
MOOSEHEART SERVICE
By LOUIS W. HARYISON, A Mooseheart Student
The Robinson Children
/~iN October 11, 1918, Brother Arthur Robinson passed away with the influenza and left a wife and four children destitute. His home was m Evansville, Ind., and he was a member in good standing of Evansville Lodge No. 85.
Brother Robinson worked in Dayton, Ohio, as a stationary engineer and when he died his lodge shipped the remains to Evansville and gave him a burial. Shortly after the death the mother went to work in a furniture store. Soon after she disappeared and left her three children to wander without a home.
A month went by and the children managed to keep alive by begging. One winter morning a grocery boy found them half frozen to death lying under a doorstep. He immediately notified the officials of the city and they were sent to the county farm. Here they lived until September of the year 1919.
Secretary A. A. Miller of Evansville Lodge No. 85 found out about these children of the deceased Brother Robinson and investigated. He went to the county farm and immediately had them transferred to a Christian Home in Evansville. In the meantime applications were secured for their entrance to MOOSEHEART.
On November 7, the Governors passed on the case and had them admitted. They arrived at MOOSEHEART on December 1. They are: Arthur B. Robinson, age 9; Emma, age 5; and Louis Clarence Robinson, age 2. They are a fine set of children and are glad to be students.
They never knew what a Santa Claus meant until their Christmas at MOOSEHEART. The Loyal Order of Moose has saved the lives of these children. Had they been let to live at the county home they would have been sent to a Juvenile home. Here they would have mixed with the wrong kind and would probably end up criminals, and the explanation would have been־ that they didn’t have a chance!
Here they will be given an education and will be taught the right kind of living. When they go out into the world they will do good.
MOOSEHEART is not only an educational institution but it is a LIFE SAVER as well.
How many members of the Loyal Order of Moose appreciate what this means ? How many of them realize that just such things as this might happen in their own home ? Prior to the visit of the dread influenza Arthur Robinson and his wife had no fear for their future. What did they realize about MOOSEHEART themselves? Did they give thought to the morrow of what they should be then, or of what might be done by their children? They may have builded better than they knew.
Even as those little youngsters begged in the streets for their lives, so do many, many children suffer because their fathers and their mothers, who brought them into the world, have not given thought to the morrow—have not thought in time of what is likely to happen in the world to them or to their children.
The Moose have remembered. Has your neighbor thought about his children? If not, ask him to remember. If he does, and the worst should follow, the memory of your act will be the sweetest thought as you journey on down life’s highway to your reward
The Lonchar Children
THERE came to the office of Superintendent M. P. Adams on September 17, 1919, a letter, from the Secretary of Christopher, 111. Lodge No. 1486, asking for an immediate admittance of six orphaned children of a lately deceased Brother, Charles Lonchar. No children are admitted as students until passed upon by the Board of Governors; there would not be another meeting until November 7, therefore the case would have to wait. In the meantime a Mooseheart official was sent to investigate the case.
It was found that the mother had died from the influenza last winter, and the father died on September 14, 1919, grieving over the loss of his beloved wife. Brother Lonchar had been a coal miner before his death and earned a good salary. It was the general thought that he was worth about five thousand dollars, but when the bills were all paid there was nothing left for his little boys and girls.
The only relatives lived in Christopher and their name was Gledja. Mr. T. Gledja had a large family of his own and sheltered them all in a four room house. These additional six children made living conditions very poor. When he took the children in, it was with the understanding that they would stay but a week.
Several weeks went by and the Gledjas’ were still taking care of their relatives children. Mrs.
Gledja complained that it was impossible to clothe and feed them and that she could no longer shelter them. A week later she took the Lonchar children to the county farm and left them there. The lodge made application as soon as it was notified about the change.
The children had been mistreated so much that they began to believe all people alike and didn’t want to come to MOOSEHEART. They pictured it as a large school with a high stone wall around it, and that it was filled with nothing but cat-o־nine-tails and other instruments of torture. When the Dictator of the Lodge threatened to send them back to Gledja’s they said, “We’ll go to MOOSEHEART.”
The Lonchar children came to MOOSEHEART on December 1. They are, Mary Lonchar, age 10; Joseph, age 9; Angelina, age 7;
Lena, age 6; Thomas, age 4; and Luba Lonchar, age 2. They are a clean cut set of children and will make good MOOSEHEART students and jolly playmates.
Their thoughts of MOOSEHEART were changed when they were given real food to eat, instead of “gruel” and a nice soft snowy white bed instead of the hard wood floor to sleep on. They nad their first real Christmas at MOOSEHEART. The largest boy exclaims that he got a “Sure ’nough Flexible Flyer sled and a pair of ice skates.” For the first time he knew real happiness.
Instead of the place with high walls and paddles they’ve found a real home where everybody is kind to them, where they can go to school and play and enjoy life as all children should. For them the clouds have lifted, the hand of Destiny has been raised, hope has been revived within them. They come into our happy association to live and grow and become strong. No longer need they fear the wolf which snaps at the door of the poor or the pitiful helplessness which comes to all who suffer from ignorance.