Editorial December 23, 1985 Issue

"Friend of the friendless"

ALLISON W. PHINNEY

It was the "Christmas rush." The vast parking lot of the shopping mall was filled with rows upon rows of cars. The last traces of a cold winter sunset disappeared from the western sky and the orange sodium floodlights of the mall began to cast an unearthly glow.

Looking up, you could see the distant blinking lights of various jets and a helicopter overhead. The river of headlights and traffic on the surrounding highways flowed on endlessly.

People on the move. Masses of humanity. But people still feeling empty and alone even when pressed and crowded by others.

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