p. 13 | The Art of Refusing by Mary A. P. Stansbury

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Mar 2, 1916

The Art of Refusing

By Mary A. P. Stansbury

Some people are born with a tendency always to say “no.” Reason seems to be eliminated from the case. They take no time to think. Indeed, on consideration their decisions are frequently reversed.

This peculiarity is unfortunate in any relation of life, but perhaps most of all in a parent. The timid child of such a parent learns to dread presenting even the most reasonable request, while the bolder and more hardy child, unless restrained by fear, becomes that unmitigated nuisance, a habitual tease. Still another type, proudly sensitive, nurses its grievance in secret. Even the slow, relenting “yes” following upon a prompt, unreasoning “no,” is like a kiss after a blow—the caress scarcely heals the smart.

A little boy ran excitedly into the room where his mother was sitting with an elderly visitor.

“Mamma,” he cried, “please may I go to the picnic this afternoon?”

“No, Charlie.”

The child turned to leave the room without a word. He was already outside the door when his mother called him back.

“Where is the picnic to be, and who are going?”

“It’s for the fourth-grade children, mamma. Teacher said she would take us to Riverside Park.”

“Oh, well, if Miss Burnham is going, I suppose it will be all right! You may go, Charlie.”

“Thank you, mamma,”—the little fellow’s voice trembled, and the color burned in his cheeks,—“but I don’t think I care to.”

“Why not? You were anxious enough a minute ago.”

“I don’t want to go, mamma.”

“Very well! Stay at home then!” answered the mother impatiently. Then, to her companion, “Of all the unaccountable children!”

“Helen,” said the white-haired woman gently, “forgive me. But suppose you had found out about the picnic before you said ‘no’?”

One rule admits of no exceptions: No mother has the right to refuse a child’s request without an adequate reason.

This does not mean that it is always necessary to explain the reason. But it is quite possible so to deal with a child’s wish that he may understand that a refusal is not careless or arbitrary, but founded upon a good reason.

A mother who has been most successful in inspiring cheerful obedience, always prefaced a denial—except in matters plainly involving right and wrong—with, “I am sorry, dear.”

“We felt,” said one of her children afterward, “that we were yielding not to superior force, but to superior wisdom.”

The child has little perspective. For the time being, the object of his desire fills his horizon. To belittle it outrages his sensibilities and creates distrust. It is the highest office of sympathy to hold his confidence while withholding the coveted indulgence.—Mary A. P. Stansbury, in The Mother’s Magazine.