p. 15 | Nature’s Music by MRS. VINA SHERWOOD-ADAMS

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · May 6, 1915

Nature’s Music

By MRS. VINA SHERWOOD-ADAMS

MRS. VINA SHERWOOD-ADAMS

The child should be taught to listen for nature’s music while it is yet a babe. As soon as a child begins to distinguish sounds aside from his mother’s voice, we call his attention to the loud blowing of the whistle, the roar of the train, the noise of a trolley car, or the rumbling of a wagon. It sometimes seems as if we are bent on calling his attention to every discordant, artificial noise we can find. Perhaps this is because these are near at hand, and it does not take much effort to bring them to his notice. Baby’s ears, though small, are very acute. Did you ever observe that the little one hears some small sounds before you have noticed them? You all know how a child will outrun your observation of objects during a walk. Just so he will lead you in keenness of hearing. Why not take advantage of this and cultivate in baby the habit of listening for nature’s music? Take him down by the rippling water, and as it gurgles over the rocks call his attention to the sound. Does the music of the water appeal to you? Perhaps you, as well as baby, may have to learn to listen for the music in the ripple. I can truly say this music has a calming, softening influence on me which I keenly enjoy.

The difficulty with the most of us in teaching children nature in her simplicity is that we ourselves have learned to enjoy the artificial too well. We prefer to listen to a piano solo rather than to the sweet, clear treble of the brown thrush or the flooding melody of the little wren. Did you ever watch the wren while he is rendering his solo? His whole being is vibrant with the music swelling from his little throat. He tilts his pretty head half heavenward in his song of adoration to his Creator, and I believe the Master listens. Give baby the opportunity to hear some of this bird music. Take him often to the orchard or the wood lot.

It has been my privilege (and you will please pardon my referring to personal experiences, for I know more about these subjects than any others) to study the birds with different groups of young children. Quite early each spring morning we wended our way to the old orchard or the woods. A variety of excellent singers formed our choir,—the wren, brown thrush, oriole,—and with notebook and pencil we made observations. The birds are very shy about singing before an audience at first, but we observed that the more accustomed they became to our visits the less embarrassed they were. This called for much self-control on the part of the children. The stealth with which one must study these little songsters pleases a child. There were two boys, six and nine years of age, in our group. They were hard, cruel little fellows. Their faces showed their ancestry. As they studied the birds, their natures softened; a kind of refinement came to them, and they seemed to lose the desire to stone or kill every innocent little creature in sight. The younger boy seemed especially influenced. One day he was out in the field with a farmer who was mowing. In front of his machine up flew a mother bird. “Stop! Stop!” cried the little boy. The farmer, thinking something was wrong with his machine, hastily checked his horses. “See,” said the little fellow, “a nest of baby birds is in front of your sickle.” “O, is that all?” and the farmer was about to drive on when he saw tears start in the little fellow’s eyes. “Why do you want me to save those birds?” he queried. “Why,” replied the little boy, “their mother may have sung me a song this morning, and,” half hanging his head, “I love her, and I know she loves her little birds.” The farmer in relating this incident said: “I was thoroughly surprised, for I had set that little chap and his brother down as two of the meanest boys in town when it came to the treatment of living creatures.”

These boys lived in the outskirts of a small village. They were literally surrounded by the beauties of nature, and roamed field and wood at will; but their home influence was not right. Their father, a good-for-nothing fellow, always drove half-starved horses; their mother, a hard-working washerwoman, had no time for household pets, and should a neighbor’s cat or dog chance to stray into their dooryard she quickly bade him begone, with a dipper of her hot soap-suds thrown after him. All this had its influence on the boys. Observation shows that our degree of love for nature and her children has its bearing on the lives of our boys and girls. Even though they may have the best environment, their attention should be especially called to nature and her music. If they are taught to listen well, its influence will be lasting.

Battle Creek, Mich.