Hers is the first kiss from the Mother of Light, and for her lips the first sip of the full moon's radiance — that green hill on the shoulder of Dhour! As for the flood of perfume, and the music stealing through the folds of the wood, they are a lasting intoxication, an enraptured ecstasy: lofty pines butting the clouds with pride and dignity, while over their backs, and through the ether, sweet melodies sway, reeling in every direction.
When you look out upon those knolls, moist breezes wash your face, and it is as if in doing so they had washed away your care and your sorrow; you become merry again, free of troubles, and you sink, if you wish, into an air of gladness, calm, and purity — for nature around you makes you forget the world of man and all that his hands have contrived!...
But what is there on top of the knoll?...
There are the tents, billowing between white and green and the color of the clouds, and before them the circles of recreation and study are convened: girls at the age of buds and blossoms, escaped from the mire of the pleasure-seeking city and its clamorous airs, and settled into a corner that is indeed one of the loveliest spots on earth, however the standards of beauty may differ.
Come with me now, and let us stroll a little among these tents — and do not keep glancing at your shoes every other moment, for they will certainly take on the color of the dust here; and even this dust is not the dust you tread in the city.
I see in your eyes a question about the cleanliness and order you see. "Yes, all of this rests on the girls' shoulders. We are here to guide them toward mental and manual work, so that each one feels her responsibility as an individual who asks much of life, and is required in turn to supply life from her own giving." This is the view of Miss Edma Bayyud, general director of the Young Women's Christian Association. The girl washes and sweeps and fills water from the nearby spring, then gathers firewood; and in all of this she drinks health from the fountain of open air and refreshing sun. Gladness spreads over her cheeks, and the sweet tunes never leave her lips.
Those circles convened here and there are simply to train the campers in acting, drawing, and dancing, and
The campers with the workers of the weaving mills in Beit Chabab
With Gemayel on the terrace of the "Qaysariyya"
The campers in front of the bell foundry in Beit Chabab