Character Building in the Home
By Helen C. Conard
“The choicest garb, the sweetest grace,
Are oft to strangers shown;
The careless mien, the frowning face,
Are given to our own.
We flatter those we scarcely know,
We please the fleeting guest,
And deal full many a thoughtless blow
To those we love the best.” “Home, with its purity, peace, and love, is the gift of Christianity.” CHARACTER building is the alpha and omega of life’s short span. It has always been so. God himself began it when he placed the man and the woman in that garden “eastward in Eden.” Before them was placed that work of developing characters fitted to hold the dominion which God put in their hands. They were placed upon vantage ground; but they failed, and the vantage was lost, and their tainted posterity have been obliged to struggle against ever-increasing odds from that dark day to this. But still the plan has not changed. The work is before us, and there is no other way. And while the path leads us by the way of the cross, we must follow it or fail, not only for time, but for eternity. “Man is a bundle of habits.” Usually when it is said of a young man, “He has no bad habits whatever,” it simply means that he does not drink intoxicants, he does not use tobacco, he does not swear, he does not gamble. The fact is if he has no bad habits whatever, he is perfect. At the same time that he neither drinks, chews, smokes, swears, nor gambles, he may have other habits that will as surely enslave him in the bondage of sin and compass his final destruction. The boys and girls upon whom the burden of this message is soon to rest must possess positive, sterling qualities that will pass at a premium in any market because of their recognized value. Christ was subject to his parents. Here is the obedience that is the example for every child. Here is the standard to which every parent should strive to bring his child. When shall this training begin? If it did not begin with the parent in his own parental home, he will have a struggle with himself before he begins with his child. He must learn what obedience is; he must have in his own mind such a clear-cut idea of what constitutes true obedience that he will be able to detect disobedience in whatever guise it may present itself. The will of the parents must be an unwavering law to the child. But here we are confronted with the problem of problems: how to teach this implicit obedience. It stands to reason that the training must begin very early—it can hardly begin too early—in the child’s life, and it must be carried on with conscientious, undeviating, patient persistence until the habit is fully established. And then what? The habit must be maintained with the same conscientious, undeviating, patient persistence so long as you are the parent and he is the child. But some may say, Is not this making provision for the parent to be tyrannical,—for the child to be a slave,—a mere whim of caprice?—No, there is no such provision in true obedience. There are always two parties to obedience, the one commanding or requiring and the other complying with the requirement. To be obedient is to be subject in will or act to authority; and here we are brought to the first step in teaching obedience,—the training of the will. This does not mean the annihilation of the child’s will by any means. The will is God’s most precious gift to man, and it should ever be the aim of the parent to strengthen the will of his child, to train the will, to turn this precious reserve force into channels of peace and blessing. If the will of the child is brought into harmony with the will of the parent, there will be no thought in the child’s mind of tyranny on the part of the parent or of the loss of individuality on the part of himself. The parent’s way is his way; the parent’s interest, his interest. This is as it should be. But what a responsibility it throws upon the parent! His will must be the governing will; but what about his will? Has he so learned the lesson of obedience that his will has been brought into harmony with the will of the Father of all? Respect naturally follows obedience. In fact, it seems to me that there can be no true obedience to an authority without respect for that authority. So surely as a parent forfeits the respect of his child, so surely the semblance of obedience will come to an end as soon as the pressure of physical force is removed. Here in a most emphatic way is the potency13of example over mere precept demonstrated. The example of the parents in their association with each other and in their attitude toward their children will count for much in forming this habit. If the husband shows that the wife is his queen, she will be enthroned in the actions of her children. If the wife crowns her husband king, he will have a family of loyal subjects. Closely allied to respect is reverence, and here as in the training of respectfulness, a single word or act of the parent may turn the scale. Reverence for God, for the name of God, for the house of God,—are we as a people lacking in this? I have sometimes thought so, and yet I know we do not mean to be guilty of anything sacrilegious. Many times the conditions under which we worship have a tendency to lower the standard in this respect. If we could always have the church edifice with its mellowed light and suggestive furnishings, we might find it as easy to maintain a degree of religious awe, even in our children, as is seen with some other sects; but with meetings held in the common schoolhouse or in the private house, it becomes a matter of study just how to preserve the proper decorum. One thing I have looked upon with fear and trembling,—the apparently growing tendency toward the separation of parents and children during the time of the service. It is a sight which it seems to me must wring groans of distress from the very angels to see pious parents on the front seats while their children are in some other part of the room, usually in the rear, with their playmates or acquaintances of the week. It is a dark picture, with more in it than is seen on the surface. I wish it were an imaginary one.