Heart Talks With Parents—2
By Elizabeth M. Patton
There is yet another thought in this subject which I feel should be emphasized. Many of us as parents, while recognizing great failure in the early years of our experience with our children, are now, in our great desire for the salvation of these same children, overzealous in “talking the truth,” while our lives are not in harmony with its principles. You may be astonished at this, and wonder how it can be possible that we can talk the truth too much, especially when you consider our study of one week ago. Perhaps I can best illustrate this by giving a few instances, each one drawn from life. An aged father and mother, with children, all grown up and “out of the truth,” have to all appearances lived such exemplary lives that they have the reputation among old neighbors of being devout Christian parents. When the youngest child was about to leave the home nest, she remarked to a friend who had been earnestly talking with her concerning her intended marriage to one not of the same faith: “There isn’t any use in your talking to me about my spiritual welfare, as you call it. It seems to me I have heard nothing else since I can remember. It has just been the Sabbath-school lesson and the rapid fulfilling of prophecy until,—well, sometimes I fairly hate any reference to the Bible.” The young woman failed to tell what I afterward learned, when thrown into a more intimate connection with the family, that the home life was filled with criticism—criticism of brethren and sisters, criticism of neighbors, criticism of the minister and his sermons. But when the Bible was mentioned, or anything connected with the Scriptures, it was always with a solemn countenance and a special tone of voice. They considered it little short of an absolute sin to read, or allow read, in the home anything but the Bible, or one or two denominational papers, and not always did they feel that they were able financially to afford these last. Hundreds of hard-earned dollars have been paid out for medicine for one of these parents, but if one had dared to hint to them a sin-sickness which Christ alone could heal, they might have lifted hands in holy horror. To be plain, they were more than sick, they were dead—I started to say dead Christians, but the two words can never properly belong together; for Christ is alive, and every one called by his name should be alive also. Here is another case. Out of a large family of children, only one, a young man, was left in the home. This last is the only one in the truth, and the parents are greatly burdened for fear he may also give up the little interest he seems to have left. I know nothing of the early home life, except that the young man is said to have been “strictly brought up,” never having known another faith. Now he is rapidly throwing off home influences, and evening seldom finds him at home, his parents never knowing where he is. One of the greatest anxieties now is to keep him with them. One evening, recently, he announced his intention of remaining at home, as he had some letters to write, and great was the mother’s delight when he brought his writing material down into the sitting-room with them. It seemed so good to see the dear boy home, to know where he was for one evening! But the anxious mother was not satisfied with this. It seemed this was to be too good an opportunity for her to lose, and so when all were cozily seated, she turned to an article in a late religious paper, and began reading it aloud. The son looked up in astonishment, and remarked, in not very gentle tones, “Now, mother, why do you do that? Don’t you know I want to write?” “Why, yes, my dear, but I don’t see why this should disturb you. It is very interesting, and it seems to me that you could listen and still write your letters.” “But I can’t,” he replied, gruffly, “and if you don’t stop, I shall just have to go to my room, that’s all.” The mother, astonishing as it may seem, calmly continued her reading, and the son impatiently gathered up his writing, and went to his cheerless room upstairs. His mother was grieved, and no doubt sadly wondered at the change which had come over her boy in the past few years. She is inclined to attribute it to his worldly associates. This home is filled with every comfort that money affords, yet the son never can invite friends to spend the evening with him, because “mother is so queer.” No music would be allowed upon the piano except sacred music. No simple or innocent games have ever been allowed in the home, because all games have been, in the minds of these parents, classed in the same list, as wicked. So is it strange that he now goes into other homes for the company and youthful associations which he will have, and, saddest of all, often finds the amusement he craves in places which are not homes? “What is the cause?” cries the mother with sorrow written in every line of her countenance. “My boy used to love to study his Sabbath-school lessons, and was so eager to go to all the meetings.” What can we answer? May God reveal himself in all tenderness in this and other homes before it is too late. “If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God.” The Lord says we are to call his Sabbath “a delight.” I knew of one home, and I am sure that many of you will admit that this is not an isolated case, where the long summer Sabbaths were a torture. No toys or amusements were ever allowed the little ones on this day, although they were bountifully supplied for other days of the week. The father was fond of reading aloud, but it was never anything that tender minds could appreciate, and when “pa read out loud,” absolute quiet must reign. Those hours between dinner and sundown were often days in length to the poor, tired little hands and legs—wearied because of the enforced quiet. I shall never forget what one of the little ones said in my hearing one of those times: “You just wait till I git big enough; I’ll never keep no Sabbath; see if I do.” And so it proved. One by one, the children of that family went out into the world, glad to throw off home restraints; and the sad parents, now nearing life’s close, are daily sending up petitions that God will save their loved ones. But now that we recognize that many grievous mistakes have been made, how shall they be undone? How may we know which is the right way, and which the wrong way, of directing our children’s feet? How may we know just how much pleasure to allow, just how attractive to make our homes, that true principles may not be transgressed, and our children delight to abide in the home? “To the law and to the testimony.”13“And thine ears shall hear a word behind thee, saying, This is the way, walk ye in it, when ye turn to the right hand, and when ye turn to the left.” Only God through his Word can give us the wisdom that we need, but he will surely fulfil his precious promises to those who live close to him. One thing is imperative: Christ’s life must be lived in us, his love reflected from our faces. He who is the Creator of the heavens and the earth, has said that he will create in us a new heart; he can do the same for our children. “And the Redeemer shall come to Zion, and unto them that turn from transgression in Jacob, saith the Lord. . . . My Spirit that is upon thee, and my words which I have put in thy mouth, shall not depart out of thy mouth, nor out of the mouth of thy seed, nor out of the mouth of thy seed’s seed, saith the Lord, from henceforth and forever.”