The Mother’s Privileges by Worthie Harris Holden

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D.C. · Jan 6, 1916

The Mother’s Privileges

By Worthie Harris Holden

WORTHIE HARRIS HOLDEN

A JEWISH proverb declares, “God could not be everywhere; therefore he made mothers.” We know that God is omnipotent by his Spirit, but it is true that to the very young child the mother is the one through whom he interprets divinity. Have you not held even a stranger child committed temporarily to your care, and seen him scan your face to learn the real intent of your heart? Does not the wee one know whether your command must be obeyed, or if it is only a threat? If you have to punish, can you hide from him whether it is done in love or in anger?

The one whose constant care attends the little child is the one who wins his love. Leave continually the tender daily administrations to some maid, and she will soon supersede yourself in his affections. When you meet a rich man’s son thus chaperoned, to whom the mother is almost a stranger, do you envy or pity her? Is she not bartering for fickle social esteem the inestimable privilege of working with God for her child? Some realize this. I know a mother who lives in affluence, and is attended by servants, but who cherishes the labor of caring herself for her little son.

God speaks to mothers individually, “Take this child, and train it for me, and I will give thee thy wages.” It might be well to place this motto in the kitchen, where little fingers long “to help.” It would still your impatient word or gesture. How else can you train the little one for Jesus, if you cannot teach him lessons of helpfulness, and inspire a desire for usefulness? By and by, when silver hairs begin to adorn your temples, a present earthly reward will be reaped when skilled hands insist upon letting mother rest from these routine duties.

Place the motto in the dining room and the living room, but still better, inscribe it on your heart. Take time to talk with Jesus, that the light of his countenance may rest upon your soul and manifest itself in deeds and words of love.

The business man frequently balances his accounts to find his loss or gain. No less often should the mother pause to discover her liabilities and resources. In this strenuous life of ours, seeming duties will constantly creep in upon us until we are “swamped” by them. Calls clamor from without; it may be from the church or from social affairs. There is a tendency to spend more and more time in adorning the children’s clothes, or in preparing a greater variety of dishes to entertain one’s company. Things that are not wrong in themselves we are slow to detect as household enemies, yet they become such as soon as they steal the time that should be devoted to the development of the children’s characters.

Perhaps your neighbor can do both,—attend to home duties properly and still be a social aid. Each one must determine, What are my resources? Your strength may be limited, your health not the best. Your nerves will not permit of overtaxation. To deny your other aspirations may be a real sacrifice, yet by it you may make your covenant with God.

Talk with your children. So many have scarcely any conversation with their parents. They hear only commands and negations. The little child will open up his soul to you through his unique questions and his imaginative flights, and your own heart will grow younger. Unconsciously the little one will learn to love the things you love and hate the things you hate. He will respect your wishes. He will guard your half hour of rest as chivalrously as a little soldier. When he plays with his young companions, the final word in any argument will be, “Mother said so!”

Have you never wished, when weary, that you could be a child again, and that after the short prayer with mother, she could once more tuck you into your bed, tell you a wonderful story, and then press a fond good-night kiss on your forehead? Has any gray-haired mother ever been known to say that she regretted spending so much time at the children’s hour? Ah, what is more precious to the mother? The busy little feet that have pattered around the house so unceasingly all day are ready for rest, and the child is eager for his story before he yields to slumber.

One mother I know was at her wit’s end. She could not tell even a Bible story in an interesting way, though she longed to do so. Finally she read the parables to her three-year-old. Certain ones came to be favorites, and the child would ask for them again and again. By and by she came to repeat such ones as the ten virgins and the rich man who pulled down his barns and built greater. The idea of not giving a stone for bread or a serpent for a fish seemed thoroughly grasped, judging by the manner in which the wee lassie recited the Bible verses.

The world says this is the age for fairy tales—when the very young are imaginative. May we not be glad for the simple illustrative passages in the Word of God to read to our little ones? Let them early learn its treasures, and it will aid materially in helping them to breathe in naturally the atmosphere of grace.

I remember, when a girl, hearing a well-known evangelist remark that it was a shame we had to sing,—

“Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it; Prone to leave the God I love.”

Yet how often this familiar hymn has described the heart’s experience! In our dealings with the little ones we need to reflect our Saviour’s tenderness; for the tiny feet will go astray so often from the right paths. The mother must have vigilance like that of our gracious Shepherd, to keep the little lambs in the fold. When necessary, she must rebuke and chasten in the spirit of the Master. She must train these opening buds to grow in wisdom and in the knowledge of God. Thus only may she know the divine rights and privileges of motherhood.