TIME is supposed to give us the significant news of the week. Why, then, do you waste so much valuable space on trivial events? . . .

One of the things I like about TIME is the way you report seemingly unimportant happenings which turn out to be highly symptomatic of the swiftly passing parade of mankind. . . .

From these contrasting opinions you might conclude that one man's news is another man's boredom. In some respects it probably is--especially when it is an event that touches some readers personally, others not at all. To the Editors of TIME, a story worth reporting--a significant news story--is one which survives the competition of all the news of the week for space in TIME'S news columns.

About some news there can be little argument. The work of the U.S. Congress, the doings of the President, the pulling and hauling of UNO, the trial of war criminals in Japan and Germany, et al., obviously have high significance. So have the week's new discoveries and revelations in science, medicine, art, etc.

There is a category of news which can be called significant trivia. It is not world shaking. It can be amusing, sad, tragic, inspiring, or downright funny, but it is revealing. It is generally about people. Sometimes it makes headlines, but more often it is buried in the back pages of a local newspaper. TIME likes to report incidents like these because they illuminate--sometimes more brightly than a major news story--the kind of world we live in and the kind of people who make the world what it is. Some examples from TIME:

How the 36-ft. sailing koster Erma, with 16 war weary Estonians (seven men, five women, four little children) aboard, made her way from the Swedish coast to the U.S. through the seam-starting seas of the winter Atlantic.

How Canada's National Defense Headquarters, startled by a request of Canadian Army women bagpipers for short kilts, ruled that man-sized kilts on a woman were a breach of Scottish tradition.

How seven Chungking patriots, despite the jeers of the Chinese press, organized a "Praying-for-the-Rains Dragon Corps" to save the crops of Szechwan Province. They shouted, beat gongs, organized public prayer, and, shortly, the heavens obliged.

How a Los Angeles housewife sought an eastbound airplane flight reservation and, when asked for her priority, carefully removed an airplane stamp from her ration book and handed it to the clerk.

How Radio Tokyo discreetly announced to the Japanese people that "With but few exceptions, the nations of the entire world are enemies of Japan."

And so it goes. The news, TIME believes, is the General Motors strike in Detroit, and the gold license plates on Dominican Republican President Trujillo's car; the Big Three meeting in Moscow, and a book called yhe Manatee, whose woman author hired a publicity agent to get it published. Trivia or otherwise, it must be significant to get into TIME.

One of our stories of significant trivia drew more mail recently than anything we have printed in some time. It was the story of Lucy Hicks, leading cook, confidante, philanthropist, and bordello-boss of Oxnard, Calif. The sharp eye of one of our editors found the bones of the story tucked obscurely away in a Pacific Coast paper. As TIME told it fully for the first time, Lucy, after 30 years, to the astonishment and embarrassment of her fellow townsmen, was found to be a man. "Her" supreme accolade probably came from the TIME subscribers who nominated "her" for TIME's Man of the Year. But there is one more chapter to add now to the story of Lucy's trials & tribulations: the U.S. Army is after "her" for evading the draft.

Cordially,

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.