1ST – Morning Melody – Jim Jonker
2nd – Autumn Anthem – Jim Jonker
3rd – Tree – Jim Jonker
1st – Charity Suffered – David Engelsma
2nd – The Letter – Jim Jonker
3rd – The Vase – Lois Kregel
1ST – How Firm a Foundation – Wayne Lanning
2nd – In the Still of the Night – Charles Westra
3rd – Today’s Tragedy – Ed Langerak
To some, the results of the Literary Contest will be disappointing, to others, disheartening. The fondest wishes of the Staff of Beacon Lights have been exceeded. Sixteen contributors submitted twenty four entries, contestants ranged in age from fourteen to forty (give or take a few years), and, wondrously, enthusiasm was wide-spread. Beacon Lights intends to make the Contest a yearly thing. As it was a pioneering venture, several flaws have been noted and are being corrected. The next Contest will contain a special category for grade school children. One expects too much, if he pits youths of that age against persons far older.
The Contest Committee obtained the final ratings by a cold compilation of total points from the score sheets of the three judges. Each judge made his own decision in ignorance of the authors’ identities. The truism holds that not everyone can win. But the competition was keen, and, in some cases, the margins of victory were extremely thin. This is said to encourage future participation but it is also said honestly. To quote Prof. H.C. Hoeksema on the category of poetry: “. . . it was a bit difficult to pick the first five. In rating the first five, I do not mean to discourage some of those who also made worthwhile efforts. I feel that some of the next best efforts were indeed worthwhile, but in some cases lacked a polished poetic form and expression . . . “
With thanks to the judges, Miss Hulda Kuiper, Dr. John Timmerman, and Prof. H.C. Hoeksema, and to all who contributed, Beacon Lights presents the three winners of the Literary Contest 1961.
Poetry: Morning Melody
Here in the solemn solitude,
The glistening lake reflects the glory of the morning sun.
The moveless mountains’ mighty majesty
Is breathed abroad; each strand of breeze is spun
With magic mist that swells across the plain.
All nature seems to stand serenely awed,
As with must tongue she shouts the strain divine:
Here is peace and power; here is God.