p. 24 | The A B C’s by A. W. Spaulding

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Mar 4, 1909

The A B C’s

By A. W. Spaulding

There was a little girl in my school who could not, or would not, learn to read. I was teaching her by the thought method, or supposed I was. But she would falter along for a word or two, stand and stare a moment, and then slide her glance away to the window.

“That’s good, Florence,” I would say. “What was it Adam did?” A shake of the head.

“Let me see, my dear. Why, yes, you’ve seen that word before.”

“Whe-e-ere is it?”

“There! Don’t you remember it?”

“Unh-unh!”

But by dint of persistence she got along,—came to read excellently,—as well as I could,—the first lesson or two, until one day I discovered that she was reading while looking out of the window. “I know that all by heart,” she explained.

With the next lesson she was not so familiar, of course; she couldn’t read. Still she was anxious to get along; and she heralded each failure with the combined response and interrogation, “Can’t. What’s the next lesson?”

Finally I found out that she hadn’t learned her A B C’s; couldn’t tell one letter from another. Then, I suppose, I backslid; I set her to learn the alphabet.

“Can’t,” she said, her square little face set determinedly, “unh-unh!”

But with the aid of “The Word Builder,” and by the persuasion of lost recesses and stayings-after-school, she did manage at last to master her A B C’s, and now, I am told, she can read, if not so well as some, yet well.

Somehow, I think I’m much like that little girl. I started long ago to go to a Teacher for special training. I wished to become a teacher, and I went at my primer with diligence. I must learn to read men, women, boys, and girls, in order to be the master that is the teacher. I gathered books, I attended lectures, I dashed bravely into sciences and philosophies, I crammed my head with theories; and oftentimes my elders bore witness that I had a zeal, fervent if not

temperate.

I could recite my first-page authors without looking; I could read better than my teachers.

But when, beyond the first-page authors, I came to life experiences, and in the schoolroom met seared hearts, soured dispositions, warped natures, I stood silent. “Go on,” said my Teacher, encouragingly. I shook my head.

“You need to learn the A B C’s,” said my Teacher. “Study in agricultural lines should be the A, B, and C of the education given in our schools.”

But I was anxious to go on. “Can’t,” I said. “What’s the next lesson?”

“It reveals cowardice,” was the reply, “to move so slowly and uncertainly in the labor line—that line which will give the very best kind of education.”

“But,” I objected, “I haven’t time now to go back and learn that. I have already started on my life-work. I want to go on.”

“Are you progressing?” asked my Teacher.

I looked at the page,—the open page of my pupils’ lives,—and before my eyes the characters were blurred. Again I shook my head.

“Talent is too much idolized,” he said, “and station too much coveted. There are too many who will do nothing unless they are recognized as leaders; too many who must receive praise, or they have no interest to labor.”

“But I can not see that this alphabet will help me. How, by digging in the earth, can I come to know souls better?”

“Teachers must understand what lessons to impart, or they can not prepare students to be transferred to the higher grade. They must study Christ’s lessons and the character of his teaching. In the training of his disciples the Saviour followed the system of education established at the beginning. The twelve first chosen, with a few others who through ministry to their needs were from time to time connected with them, formed the family of Jesus. They were with him in the house, at the table, in the closet, in the field. There is wisdom for him who holds the plow and plants and sows the seed. ‘For his God doth instruct him to discretion, and doth teach him.’”

So I turned, with enlightened eyes, to the A B C’s. O, but it was hard! for I loved my books.

Again my Teacher came to me. “You are spending too much time indoors,” he said. “Go out into the field, and work with your students.” For other matters had pressed, and I must study.

“I can’t,” I answered. “I must read this large book on ‘The Psychology of Adolescence.’”

“Your adolescents are out there hoeing in the strawberry patch,” he said, “and their minds are with them. Study there.”

“They can work better than I can,” I objected. “But I must study science in order to know the workings of their minds, and how to meet them. What can I learn of pedagogy while hoeing?”

“In the cultivation of the soil the thoughtful worker will find that treasures little dreamed of are opening up before him. No one can succeed in agriculture or gardening without attention to the laws involved. The special needs of every variety of plant must be studied. Different varieties require different soil and culture, and compliance with the laws governing each is the condition of success. The attention required in transplanting, that not even a root fiber shall be crowded or misplaced, the care of the young plants, the pruning and watering, the shielding from frost at night and sun by day, keeping out weeds, disease, and insect pests, the training and arranging, not only teach important lessons concerning the development of character, but the work itself is a means of development. In cultivating carefulness, patience, attention to detail, obedience to law, it imparts a most essential training. The constant contact with the mystery of life and the loveliness of nature, as well as the tenderness called forth in ministering to these beautiful objects of God’s creation, tends to quicken the mind and refine and elevate the character; and the lessons taught prepare the worker to deal more successfully with other minds.”

“O, I believe in it!” I said, “but my time is so limited. I will uphold the principle with my voice and pen, but I—I can not come down.”

And the answer came plainly: “There is a spirit of opposition to the plain Word of God and to the Testimonies of his Spirit. There is a spirit of idolatrous exaltation of mere human reason above the revealed wisdom of God. There are men among us in responsible positions who hold that the opinions of a few conceited philosophers, so-called, are more to be trusted than the truth of the Bible or the testimonies of the Holy Spirit. These men are Hazaels, to prove a scourge to our people. They are wise above that which is written.”

Then I yielded, and to some degree I have learned the A B C’s. And the promise has been verified in proportion to the faith exercised; for though I can not read so well as some, still I can read somewhat. I wonder, naturally, how many have had my experience in learning the A B C’s. A. W. SPAULDING.