II.—My second advice is: Show your mother that you love her. "In one's whole life one can never have more than a single mother. You may think this obvious…. You are a green gosling! I was at the same age as wise as you, and yet never discovered this till it was too late."[3]
Your mother will plan for you to go out and enjoy yourselves, and she probably will not say that she is left alone by this or that arrangement; but you must think for her and protest against it, and see that she gets amusement, and is talked to.
I know girls who will leave their mother alone night after night, or sit at home and never utter a word. They do not think of it, and she feels left out. Even if she makes you go out, she will like your noticing and thinking for her. I believe each daughter fails to realize in her own case how much her mother values signs of the love which both know to be there.
You may say, "My mother does not like a fuss!"—Very likely. But there are ways and ways.—I do not believe any older person is ever anything but pleased when their little pleasures are seen to be a matter of real consideration to a younger one. I have watched so many mothers now that I see it, but I myself used to let my affection be taken for granted. I see now how much more pleasure I might have given, and I would give anything if you would do what they say is impossible—i.e. profit by some one else's experience, and try to show your affection for your mother. She is the only person to whom it is safe to fully express your affection. If you feel strongly for any one else, expressing it is apt to lead you to be silly, or sentimental, or wanting in self-control, but little loving ways with your mother are quite different—they are always comforting to her and good for you. Every one of an older generation is apt to feel that the younger one does not want them; therefore express your affection doubly to an elder compared to what is necessary or right, or wise to an equal, because by nature the elder does not quite believe in it!
I dare say you are nevertheless thinking as I used to do. "One's mother is quite different—she knows I love her best." In a way that is true, but all I have said is true too!
III.—My third advice is: Put some salt into every day—the salt of effort and self-denial. Go on with a book though it bores you. Go out for a walk though you feel lazy. Finish some drawing or needlework, which you would rather leave to begin something else. Make yourself do something which you do not like, and which is useful.
And I say to all of you, not only to the leaving ones: Do not lounge through the day just because it is holidays. You are not a little child who has to be made to do things: you are a sensible, reasonable being, who wants to grow. You do not leave off eating for a month, you do not leave off growing for a month; then do not leave off growing in other ways. Do not be worthless at any time.
Some of you seem to think you will not have to give account of holidays to God—I think you will be more called to account for them, for then you have a chance of showing your real stuff.
And when you are grown up, and quite free, feel that you are still more responsible.
Enjoy yourself to the top of your bent, but see that each day you gain new power to do what you ought, and what you make up your mind to do; and remember that this power is only gained in the using—and dies out if we do not use it. I shall be horribly disappointed if you do not gain this power, and if you do not use it well, "to the Glory of God and the Relief of Man's Estate."