p. 12 | Happy Bedtimes

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · May 7, 1908

Happy Bedtimes

Do not reprimand or punish the children late in the day; never just before bedtime. Send them off to their beds happy. Commend them for the good they have done, forgetting, for the time at least, anything that has been remiss in their conduct. Tell them a story when there is time—there should always be time—and let it be a bright and cheerful one. Kiss and tuck them in, leaving them happy, to the sweet repose that is the inalienable right of childhood.

If you ever heard a little child crying and sobbing in its sleep, you would never, never chide or punish one again just before bedtime. Take any other time than that. Seal their closing eyelids with a kiss and a blessing. The time will come all too soon when they will lay their heads upon their pillows, lacking both. Let them, then, at least have the memory of a happy childhood, of which no future sorrow or trouble can rob them.

I well remember being reprimanded by my mother on several occasions, for some misdemeanor committed early in the day, and being told to think over my conduct, with the promise that at bedtime she would “settle with me.” I did think it over, you may be sure; over and over again. The day seemed interminable. I passed it with a heavy heart, unable to join in the merry-making of my playmates, because of the impending “settlement.” The thought of it hung over me like a pall, obscuring the brightness and beauty of what might otherwise have been a happy day. Sometimes I tried to be unusually obedient and good in the vain hope that the offense might be condoned. How I hoped she would forget! But did she?—Never! The “settlement” was as sure to come as the sun was to set. The punishment was duly administered; conscientiously, I do not doubt. Many a time I went sobbing off to sleep—a troubled sleep where ogres, gnomes, and bad stepmothers vied with one another in their attempts to torture and make me miserable. She meant it for my good; but there is a better way.—Good Housekeeping.