A Brightening-up Day by Ada M. Shaw

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Washington, D. C. · Nov 19, 1903

A Brightening-up Day

By Ada M. Shaw

HAVE you ever thought what shine-principle there is in nature? Make a hurried list of the things that shine, from the great sun down to the wee twinkle in a baby’s eyes. The glisten of the snow, the sparkle of the dew, the gleam of perfect teeth, the iridescence of a fish’s scales or a bird’s plumage, and the jolly polish of a sunflower’s petals—they all shine, and they were made to shine for man’s sake and service.

In our spirits we are dependent more than we may realize upon this shine-principle, and the woman who keeps home bright—to use a much-worn phrase in an emphasized way—does a greater thing than “he who taketh a city.” But to get down to practicalities and to detail, have you ever included a brightening-up day in your housekeepers’ and homemakers’ calendar? No? Then just try it, on this wise:—

Provide yourself with chamois skin, old bits of flannel, soft cheesecloth, an old toothbrush, some old-fashioned bath-brick, some whiting, ammonia, and benzine or gasoline. Now begin with the parlor. What things are there in that room that were made to shine and have lost luster? (Mark you, I do not mean for you to “clean house.” This task is a light one that you may do on some rainy day when you are not “up to” great things, and are free from callers.) Let us see: There’s the brass rod at the back of the Morris chair, the piano pedals, the brass rim of the big lamp, the ornamental handles of the bookcase drawer, the small bit of beveled glass in that wee corner cupboard, the brass rod at the grate, the andirons, a clear glass vase, and some other ornaments that are dulled by the ever-accumulating film of dust and smoke. Shine ’em up!

Go through the house in this way. Your task may multiply on your hands so that it will take two days instead of one. You may give the silver a surprise, the tops of the salts and peppers, and the copper rim of the faithful old kettle. The bath will take some strength, and the faucets a great deal of patience. Then you may see a shelf-paper that needs to be renewed, a shabby ribbon in a tidy that should be ironed or replaced, a row of books straightened and set in better arrangement—all these things that insensibly get out of order, and, taken as a whole, make a home less bright than it might be. Try it, and the result will amaze you in more ways than one.—Ada M. Shaw, in the Farm and Fireside.