PART XII.
THE LITTLE ONES OF THE FAMILY AND THE GLORY OF MOTHERHOOD—CONCLUSION.
“Like olive plants round about thy table.”—Psa. cxxviii. 3.
hose of you, my dear girl friends, who are members of large families, know how very soon the little ones begin to observe what is passing around them. One never-ending marvel, in connection with infant life, is the amount of knowledge gained during the first year of a child’s existence.
The little creatures come into an unknown world where everything is strange. Even the mother’s face has to be studied and learned off by heart.
How quickly the baby eyes begin to follow the movements of those around them! How soon they learn to discriminate between one face and another, one object that is pleasant to the sight and a second that inspires fear or dislike!
How marvellous is that instinct of self-preservation which moves the little hand to twine itself round an outstretched finger, or to clutch at any object within its reach!
Has it not been to you, baby’s sister, almost as much as to the mother, a source of pride and delight to observe that the new-comer was “beginning to take notice”? If the downy head is turned in your direction, there is quite a ring of triumph in your voice as you say, “I am sure he knows me.”
You see, I picture my girls as loving sisters with tender, motherly instincts, and I decline to believe that there is one amongst them who does not love these little ones.
If children begin to observe so soon, how important it is that those who are round and about the life-path, on which, as yet, they can only place a little tottering foot, should be careful that they see only what is worthy of imitation. We, who are, perforce, the patterns which the children are certain to copy, should be doubly watchful over ourselves for their dear sakes.
You and I need to be ever on the watch on our own account, and the prayer “Lord, I cry unto thee. Keep the door of my lips. Incline not my heart to any evil thing. Deliver my feet from falling,” must often go up from our hearts to God, if we are sensible of our needs and weaknesses.
Have you not a double reason for the prayer that you may be kept from sin, whether in word or deed, if you are elder sisters in homes where the children must certainly learn by your example? I would not only urge you never to utter a wrong or impure expression, but also to avoid the foolish talk which even some older people think the only kind suited to children. Use habitually the best words you know, so that the little ones may have nothing to unlearn that they have heard from your lips. Speak clearly and distinctly, avoid shrieking, boisterous laughter, and discordant tones, so that baby’s voice, imitating yours, may be clear and even musical from the first.
Be gentle and graceful in your movements. Do not throw yourselves about or be rough, careless or boisterous in manner, for if you are, you will soon see a little reflection of your doings in the toddling thing who smashes his toys and laughs at the destruction he has wrought.
Be orderly in your own habits, and teach the little ones to put away their toys when done with, in places provided for them. I may note here that children are often untidy and needlessly destructive of their toys because no provision is made for orderly ways, and no settled places given for their childish treasures. Let them thoroughly enjoy the use of these, but teach them that their toys are worth something, and that wilful destruction results in loss to themselves.
Turn a bright, happy face for a child to study, that your smile may be reflected in his. Cultivate a cheerful disposition and an even temper, that you may rejoice in seeing joyous little ones in your homes.
Apart from ill-health and the consequent bodily suffering which naturally makes the poor little people fretful and peevish, I honestly believe that many mothers are responsible for the ill-tempers of their children. If they had always cultivated habits of self-restraint, and prayerfully watched against and checked every tendency to discontent, angry passions, selfishness, etc., I am convinced they would have had less cause to mourn over peevish, passionate, ill-tempered, exacting children.
I have used the word always advisedly.
The cultivation of every pure, right, holy habit, temper and method of speech, should begin long before a young mother actually clasps her child to her breast, if he is to come into the world such as she would have him to be.
With what widely differing feelings do parents look forward to the gift of a child! In some cases it is in the hope of keeping property in the direct line, so that others may not inherit it.
Dear ones, it may be that none amongst you have need to cherish such thoughts, or to expect any great share of this world’s wealth, for those who may some day call you by the sweet name of mother. On all who bear it will devolve the solemn responsibility of training your children for something greater, higher and better than the richest earthly inheritance.
It must never be forgotten that it is the children of human mothers who are the heirs of immortality. It is the glorious privilege and duty of the mother to teach her little ones the old, old story of God’s love in Christ Jesus, and to put before them the precious truth that in Him and through Him they become children of God. “And if children, heirs of God and joint-heirs with Christ.”
Children are sometimes used as outlets for a mother’s vanity and love of display. She delights to clothe them in the richest and costliest of silks and laces, less for their comfort than to show that she is wealthy enough to do so. These things are of little real account.
The soft woollen garments knitted and fashioned by the loving hands of a poor mother, and the mere scraps of material adorned with pretty stitching by her busy fingers, and kept in snowy purity, will be just as comfortable and becoming as the more costly clothing.
In choosing a nurse to be associated with you in the care of your children, think of what you would fain be for their sakes, and try to find one who will work with you in a like spirit. Never give up your own share in the work or the supervision of the nurse’s, except from dire necessity. I would be the last to suggest that you should show a suspicious, prying spirit; but let it be understood that the nurse is your co-worker, and that, in trusting her with your children, you place your greatest treasures in her partial keeping. My own practice has always been to trust those who served in my home, unless something occurred to justify a change of opinion.
In dealing with the little ones be absolutely true. Let there be no shams or make-believes on your part, and allow none in others. Children are wonderfully quick to detect shams, or even an approach to untruth, and how keenly they study their elders! I hope it is not derogatory to the child for me to say that they and dogs are curiously alike in judging character. The child will meet the advances of one stranger with open arms, whilst no bribes or blandishments will induce her to look at another. The dog will generally make a like choice. Before reason can have much to say in the matter, the child exercises its God-given instinct in making or refusing to make friends with a new-comer.
I was in a room with a number of people one day, when a little girl of four was brought to see the visitors. All but one tried to coax her into friendliness but in vain. The exception was a sea-captain, rugged, sunburnt, and with a face seamed by small-pox. He made no attempt to entice the child, beyond smiling in response to her frequent gaze. At length she went quietly to him, laid her hand on his knee and bade him lift her up. The rugged face looked beautiful in its kindliness as he raised the child in his arms, and a moment after felt a soft kiss on his cheek, and a curly head nestling on his breast. A more lovable nature than that which dwelt beneath that man’s unpromising exterior, it would have been hard to find; and so evidently the dog of the household decided, for he followed the child and tried to push his nose beneath the captain’s one free hand.
I often think that our four-footed friends set us examples worthy of imitation in dealing with our little ones. Most of us would rather bear pain than see a child suffer, even if not impelled to pity and tenderness by motherly love. But we are not always sympathetic in matters which are very real trials to the children. I have heard people say, “How can one be expected to do anything but laugh at the ridiculous things children cry and grieve about?” If the trouble is a real one to the child, we may sympathise with the sorrow, though we may smile at the cause of it. Only do not let us spoil everything by allowing the child to see us smile whilst professing to pity and condole.
It is harder for some natures to sympathise with the little ones in their play than in their grievances. To do the latter is natural to every kindly heart, but very often we find it the hardest possible task to be a child with a child. The healthy little one is not often quiet in play-time, and busy mothers, weary with very real work, are glad to confine all romps within nursery walls, or to banish the players to any place out of sight and hearing. Believe me, there is no time when a mother’s supervision is more needed than during play-time. I was brought to realise this, as I had never done before, quite lately.
A young mother, herself one of a large family, said to me, “My childhood would have been one of the happiest possible, if only my mother had been oftener with us in play-hours, but she had no idea how miserable I was then. One of my sisters, younger than I, had a passionate temper, a will of iron, and a selfish, exacting disposition combined with unusual beauty and—when she chose—with the most winsome ways imaginable. By these combined qualities she dominated the nursery, got all her own way, and generally succeeded in making everyone appear to be in the wrong but herself. My mother knew this too late to prevent my childish happiness from being spoiled, and both she and my father grieved over it. ‘Why did you not speak?’ they said. ‘We should have believed you, for you were always true.’
“The fact was, I felt powerless before the strong will of my sister, who succeeded in making me think myself of no account in comparison with herself. I was not beautiful like her, and she was constantly taunting me with what she called my ugliness. Well, I can thank God that whilst my parents still lived, things were put right with them, and no one was so near to them as I was. And, if I possessed a less share of good looks, I had enough to win the love of a true heart and keep it; so I must not complain. Only I cannot quite forget that I lost the happy childhood my parents meant me to have, for want of my dear mother’s more frequent presence during our play-time.”
When you attain to the glory of motherhood, beloved girl friends, let each of you learn to be a child with your children. You will not lose by this, and they will gain enormously.
I spoke of our four-footed friends. Look at puss with her kittens. Does she stand on her dignity at play-time? Or the mother doggie. Does she disdain a game at romps with her fat, roll-about puppies? Both these furnish examples for human mothers, and depend on it, such will learn far more of their children’s real dispositions during play-hours than at any other time.
Years ago I saw an outdoor picture which I have never forgotten. A little lamb had been born very late in the season, and, after all the rest of the flock had been removed, it remained with its mother the only occupants of a field. As soon as it was old enough, it showed all the ordinary tendencies of its kind, and began to skip and frolic about the field. But it had no playfellows, and would soon return, quiet and disheartened, to its mother’s side.
The ewe rose to the occasion. She still carried her winter coat which made active movements somewhat difficult, but in spite of this, she joined in a game at romps with her little one. Anything funnier, more ungainly than her efforts at skipping and prancing round, I never expect to see, but she persevered to the delight of her lamb, so long as the two remained in the field. She left in my memory one of the sweetest pictures of motherly sympathy I ever witnessed.
It is not possible to do more than touch on the duties as well as the glory of motherhood, for the subject is equally vast and important. In all our talks in the twilight our object has been rather to suggest future thought on matters of importance, than to exhaust the subject during a sitting. You, my dear ones, if spared to be mothers, will have to study many things, if you are to be worthy of such a sacred trust. You will need loving and sympathetic natures, great self-control and constant watchfulness over self, in order that your example may be good for the little ones to follow. You will need tender, enlightened consciences to keep Duty ever to the front, and Inclination subservient to its call. You will find that you must unlearn as well as learn many things in order that you may only teach what is best. You will have to study the parts that others fill in the environment of your children so that they may have pure companionship, friends and teachers whose influence shall be second only to your own in doing them good. You will have to plan in ways small and great for the growth, health and general well-being of their bodies, but above and beyond all you must never forget that something more precious than all the world has been entrusted to you—an immortal soul with each child.
I need not say that if you realise the vastness of this trust, you will be a prayerful mother. Very conscious of your own weakness and inability rightly to fulfil your God-given work, you will constantly seek the grace which is sufficient for you and for all: the strength which is made perfect in the weakness of His believing servants. “For the weakness of God is stronger than men.”
You will be ever prayerfully striving after greater nearness to the Source of strength, and so, taking your little ones in your arms or by the hand, you will lead them into the Presence, and as you lift up heart and voice in supplication and prayer, teach them to realise from their earliest days the Divine Fatherhood, and the saving love of God in Christ Jesus.
It seems coming down from the greater to the less when, leaving for a moment the teaching of the Bible about the glory and responsibility of motherhood, I open another book and quote a few words from the writings of a high-souled poetess, one who without knowing the glory, the bliss, the responsibility of hearing a child call her mother, has yet grasped, in a higher degree than any other writer I know, the reality of all these things.
It was fitting to place first of all the testimony of Bible history and teaching on the value of a child and the glories and responsibilities of motherhood. But in these days it will do us good to read some words from one of Mrs. Browning’s poems and to find that along with her great mental and poetic powers, there dwelt in her fragile frame the warmest of motherly hearts, the strongest motherly instincts. As Aurora Leigh, she writes—
“I might have been a common woman now,
And happier, less known and less left alone;
Perhaps a better woman after all,
With chubby children hanging on my neck
To keep me low and wise. Ah me, the vines
That bear such fruit are proud to stoop with it:
The palm stands upright in a realm of sand.
* * * * *
I thought a child was given to sanctify
A woman, set her in the sight of all
The clear-eyed Heavens, a chosen minister
To do their business and lead spirits up
The difficult blue heights. A woman lives,
Not quickened towards the truth and good
Through being a mother?
* * * * *
I’m nothing more
But just a mother. Only for the child
I’m warm, and cold, and hungry, and afraid,
And smell the flowers a little, and see the sun,
And speak still, and am silent, just for him.”
I will not multiply quotations. These are more than enough to justify what I have said of the writer. I hope many of you are already familiar with the whole poem.
And now, my dear girl friends, I must close our talk to-night with the announcement that in one sense it is to be our last, but not in another.
Three years have come and gone since our Twilight Circle was first formed. Some of us met then as old acquaintances, but we have become far more than mere acquaintances to each other. I believe we shall remain true and lifelong friends. One of you, looking regretfully forward to the probable cessation of our meetings, asks quite pathetically—
“Have you nothing more to say to us, your girls?”
I feel that I still have many things to speak about, and yet that it would not be advisable to arrange for meeting at stated periods for the present. Yet I look forward to our keeping in regular touch with each other; for our dear friend the Editor has suggested a “Twilight Circle Correspondence Column” for us. In it I hope to answer some of the letters already received, and others which you may address to me in the future about our Twilight Talks. It has always been to me a source of great regret that many of your letters have perforce remained unanswered so long. I also hope to bring some of you, dear ones, into touch with each other during the coming year by means of these letters.
I pray that God will add His blessing to what has been said, and that you may all be better daughters, sisters, friends, wives, and, in due time, mothers through our many happy meetings “In the Twilight Side by Side.”
[THE END.]