“Surf On Golden Beaches Has a Siren Call for Me”

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 851, 20 December 1929, Page 5 (Supplement)

“Surf On Golden Beaches Has a Siren Call for Me”

Mr. Monte Holcroft has been a journalist in Australia and New Zealand. He is now in Europe, where he is writing his third novel. His first book was entitled “Beyond the Breakers," and this teas followed by “The Flameless Fire." J THINK New Zealanders are growing away from the festive customs of the old-world Christmas, and are turning themselves and their cars toward the open roads and holiday journeys. If I -were in New Zealand this year I should be very practical about the occasion, and certainly would try to spend it in the bush. But because lam wandering, I find the season suddenly significant It is necessary to pause, to look back as far as Is good lor me, and forward as far as hope can reach. So much can lie between two Christmas Days. I realise with astonishment that on December 25. It will be just a year since I had my first glimpse of Europe. We were in the Mediterranean, nearing Gibraltar, and that morning we found ourselves on a smoothly beautiful sea with a rising sun on one horizon, and against the other the snow-touched mountains of Spain. Since then I have seen other mountains, with French towns along their lower slopes. I have seen deserts of Africa and Arab towns, and industrial cities of the English Midlands, dominated by tall chimneys and overhung with smoke. And I have seen the endless streets of London, where adventure comes from the ends of the earth and Jostles staid citizens who know only the City. In 'the past I have dedicated Christmas to two passionate hopes. I have dreamed of the writing of books and of travel, and now It seems the dreams are coming true. And here I reach what always seems to me the most fascinating part of Christmas—lts "fter to hope. Most of us, I think, regard Christmas Day more definitely than the 31st day of December as the end of a year. We look back over the spent days and weeks and feel, perhaps, a little disappointment. They have not brought us all that we have expected But away ahead lie another twelve months, gloriously untouched. They are ours! With the passing years we view this recurring gift of time with a touch of ejaieism; but at heart there Is still the hope that has brought us so far and Is waiting to carry us farther. Friends crowd back, too, for Christmas must always be thared. Those we know best are below countless horizons, but we can draw them nearer for a day. And in this turning for a moment to love and friendship and all the dearer, simpler things lies the secret strength of Christmas. The New Zealander abroad, however successful he may be, will turn inevitably at this time toward his own country. If lam to see snow powdering the backs of the lions in Trafalgar Square I shall think of the sunshine of a southern December and the surf that breaks along the golden beaches. It will seem like Christmas, then. MONTE HOLCROFT