A penny a day from every
American will clothe the ragged
women and children of Belgium
and Northern France.
Think of it: One cent per
head from the inhabitants of the
United States means a million dol-
lars daily if all of us did our share.
But that would mean calling upon
the babe in arms and the cripple on
crutches-the slum dweller and the
backwoodsman-farmers and villagers
and city folk—it would demand an
organization, not only to carry the
news of Belgium's plight, but to collect
in Belgium and Northern France who are still destitute. Previous contributions seem stupen
dous until you consider the number of beneficiaries, and then you'll find what a short end the
The Commission for Relief in Belgium at no time
has been able to allow more than seven cents per day
for man, woman, or child. (Imagine how luxuriously
you could live upon 50c. a week!) And yet this
miserable pittance has been received with great grati-
tude that you (whose notion of poverty has never
included even the idea of a week of existence without
shelter or provision) cannot possibly imagine.
Get this picture fixed in your mind and dwell upon it; whole
communities, including families which fifteen months ago were
dwelling in opulence, are without money, without clothes (except
the horrible rags in which they stand) and without hope of sur-
vival, except through the prompt aid of America.
No other country can undertake the tremendous task.
The aged, the children, and the women will perish by the hun-
dreds of thousands if we do not continue to clothe as well as feed
them.
You surely don't want it on your conscience that for lack of a few dollars' worth of aid (with which one human being can, in that