In the Way He Should Go by C. G. Bellah

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Tacoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Jun 29, 1911

In the Way He Should Go

By C. G. Bellah

C. G. BELLAH

“HOWARD!”

“Yes, mama.”

“Didn’t I tell you not to play around the flower-bed?” Howard had felt sure he could help his mother by trying to weed out the little bed of violets. But he obediently left this very interesting occupation, and his chubby hands sought the other amusement.

Finding the hatchet that his Uncle Ned had given him, he began driving sticks into the ground, as the men drove supports for the grape-vines.

Mrs. Norton, not hearing her little boy for some time, wondered what he was doing now. Slipping a pie quickly into the oven, she glanced out of the window. Seeing him, she exclaimed, with no little impatience in her voice: “Howard, don’t drive those stakes in the ground. You’ll spoil the lawn. Take them out this very minute.”

Howard couldn’t understand, yet he did as his mother requested, wondering what he could do. If he might not play with anything in the yard, perhaps he would better go outside. After many vain efforts, he succeeded in raising the heavy latch on the front gate. Now what a good time he would have! But the little face changed painfully as Mrs. Norton came to the door, and said, in no uncertain tones: “Howard, if you don’t behave, I’ll have to punish you. Come inside immediately!”

The little fellow again obeyed, as he nearly always did. What should he do? First he thought of going in where his mama was; then he remembered that she was very busy, and had sent him outdoors because she could not be bothered with him. Were little boys a bother? Doubtless he would be in the way.

He couldn’t drive sticks, pull weeds, nor play outside. Finally he thought of his little wagon, but it was no fun at all unless it was loaded, and there was nothing inside,—O, if he might go outside just for a little while! What could he do to which his mother would not object?

Climbing upon the high door-step, he sat down to think. How lonesome he was! It seemed a long, long time that he sat there. The chubby little fists just would go to his eyes. How he did want to do something, but it almost broke his heart to have his mother speak crossly to him. The longer he sat there, the less he seemed to be able to think of anything that she would not object to.

Again Mrs. Norton, becoming uneasy, came to the door to see what mischief he might be in now. Her little boy’s tears greatly touched her heart; for she was a good mother, and really desired to be very kind to him. Drawing the quivering little body close to her, she said, tenderly, “What is the matter with my little man now?”

Choking back the sobs as best he could, and looking appealingly into her face, he replied: “Mama — what — may — I — do?” It struck her heart like an arrow thrust. Why hadn’t she told him before what he might do, rather than what not to do? Right then she determined to plan amusement for Howard, that the pent-up energies of childhood might have opportunity for exercise.

Holy Writ says: “Train up a child in the way he should go,” not, “out of the way he should not go.” Many parents place prohibitions on their children, but forget to suggest things that they may do. Too often it is, “Don’t do this,” and, “Don’t do that,” instead of, “You may do this,” and, “You may do that.”

There is a vast difference between training a child in the way he should go, and training him out of the way he should not go. With every prohibition should go the privilege of engaging in some harmless diversion. May the blessed Saviour, who so often placed his hands on the heads of the children, help us to train up the lambs of the flock in the way they should go.

Kansas City, Mo.