The following text may have been generated by Optical Character Recognition, with varying degrees of accuracy. Reader beware!

Mrs. Nancy Adams, President F.W.|.C. al the left, F.W.I.C. life membership badges to Mrs. Hugh Summers, Mrs, Gor- don Maynard, Mrs. J. E. Houck and Mrs. J. R. Futcher in recogni- presents lion of service in connection with the A.C.W.W. Conference» HEN a traveler arrives in llomantsi parish 0n the border of North Carelia and Russia, his attention is caught by a ista of rugged heights and seemingly endless rests of conifer. Most of our farms are erched on those heights which have also Sven names to the villages. From our parish of Ilomantsi a winding. ‘illy road runs away to the east towards the ussian frontier. After five kilometres it ,‘l'mbs up to Kuuksenvaara Hill and then 1. inds down a slope to a hollow. From there . rises again like a yellow ribbon and fades 1 l»: to a forest of pines with trunks of russet * rown. Here spreads out a typical Ilomantsi '11 village with farms and small-holdings. At the fringe of the village is my home. about 50 metres from the main road. It is like « red strawberry on a hill with the fields my dearest memories. My mother’s steps ger on the path leading to the outhouse -' here our provisions were stored. My father led the fields. My brothers cleared the land ’ Now it is my turn to continue where those ho are no longer with us laid down their ' It is a binding inheritance. But I am ot alone, I have my husband and my growing ildren, a boy and a girl. i, 3 On this clear spring evening I linger in our 2’... INTER 1954 The Rural Home By Laura Pentinnen (Finland) First Prize Essay in the ACWW Competition 1953 courtyard. The bustle of work has ceased, The children’s voices have died away. The whole village is asleep. Only the nightâ€"jar spins her mysterious hum over the fringe of the forest. The row of birch trees from the gate to the grassy courtyard was planted when I was a child. Their branches form a vault over the pathway. On the south side is the kitchen garden and a small orchard of apple trees. The verandah made of beams is on the side nearest to the main road. The outhouses are on the right from the house and on the left a cowshed and barns. The yard is covered with short grass and hard-trodden paths criss-cross to the outhouses and cowshed. Farther down the hill are the thrashing and drying sheds, The tall, ancient mountain ash behind the house are opening their buds. Clusters of birch trees beside the outhouses and cowshed gently wave their pale green arms and a thrush has settled on the topmost branch of the tallest tree to tune her flute. Spirea shrub beneath the bedroom window extends its branches. The Collins Europaeus, with its golden bells will soon be in bloom and convolvuli on both sides of the verandah are shyly raising their heads from the ground. The tasks of spring have not been finished yet and there is much to be done in the yard. The plan of the new garden is still only a blue- print though the surround of firs has been planted and a few apple trees in the orchard. With determination perhaps one day we shall see it completed. I enter the kitchenâ€"which is at the same time the living roomâ€"and the warmth and H