XV
A MATTER OF CULTIVATION
A great many people are willing to sow seed. There is an inspiration in the picture which the word "Sower" brings to the mind. I can never forget those days when the boys and girls just entering their teens took their spades and hoes, left the schoolroom with its algebra and technical grammar behind and went out into the glorious spring sunshine to plant their school gardens. On the various packages of seed were pictured the promised flowers or vegetables and with joy they looked forward to the day when they should be able to proudly exhibit the results of their planting.
When the planting was done most of the children believed that the hardest part of the task was over. Year after year successive classes failed to realize the fact of Time. As the weeks passed and the slow development that is nature's way to perfection went on, one would hear a boy say, "Next year I'm going to plant radishes; they grow faster," and another, "You will never get me to plant squashes again; they're too slow."
These young gardeners found very difficult, and some found quite impossible, the task of waiting, meanwhile working with the soil and protecting the growing plants, that the flower and fruit might be as fine as possible. Despite encouragement from other children and from instructors, some of the boys and girls lost their enthusiasm entirely and seldom looked at their gardens.
Those boys and girls, planting their seeds of flower and fruit on the sunny hillside and in the shaded nooks where the school gardens lay, were not at all unlike the men and women who today plant the good seed in the gardens of hearts that come to them in the glorious springtime of life ready for the sowing. Like the boys and girls these older gardeners are pleased with the picture of the result of their seed sowing. With enthusiasm they enter upon the task of planting, with eagerness they watch for the first appearance of results. And then Time enters in. There is evidence of weeds; slugs and worms appear. Then comes the clear call for the two great virtues of the sower who will win a harvest—Labor and Patience. He must cultivate the soil, else only the meager harvest can be his. The art of cultivation is the one so many would-be harvesters fail to learn.
To realize what the art of cultivation can accomplish one needs to read carefully the increase in the record of the producing power of certain wheat fields in our country during the past four years. Courage comes with the study of the reports of modern miracles accomplished through the advice and instruction of the agricultural schools and colleges which have escaped from the thraldom of the abstract. Every one should look once into the faces of boys and girls of the rural schools who having been instructed in the art of cultivation have practised it and increased the value and quantity of the output on their fathers' farms, ten-fold. It fills one with hope to look into the bright eager face of a fourteen-year-old prize winner, holding side by side in his hand the stalks of corn, one small and meager, the other rich and full, made so by the art of cultivation which he has so patiently practised.
What the cultivation of the soil has accomplished in the agricultural world it can accomplish in the teaching of religion. If young America is irreligious today it is because we have sown the seed and left it to itself. In the soil of young hearts are the elements which make a sane, full output of religious life possible—but cultivation is necessary and, if we are to raise the type of our girlhood, imperative. We shall be compelled to resist the temptation to give up because the seed does not grow faster.
Those entrusted with the cultivation of this human soil into which the seed has been dropped must know what that seed needs as it develops—urging forward here, that through self-expression it may grow strong, restraining there, that it may not spread itself out and through over-expression become weak. Only loving personal knowledge of each individual life will make possible this guidance and restraint. They must know the environment in the midst of which the good seed is striving to climb to fruition, else they cannot know just what to drop into the soil to stimulate the seed in its fight for strength, nor how to protect it from growths that threaten to choke it.
Those entrusted with the cultivation of this soil, if they are to be successful, must learn to use the mighty stimulus to growth that comes from simple friendship. Seed which can come to fruition under no other conditions springs into vigorous life under the power of warm friendship. Many a seed which might have developed and borne rich fruit has shriveled and dried in the chill of unfriendliness and misunderstanding. These cultivators of the heart soil must learn very quickly the value of sunshine. Young life needs the rain and has it, but young life loves the sunshine, it blossoms in the presence of hope and expectation, it droops in the atmosphere of distrust.