Let Us Play by Mrs. N. K. Bradford

International Tract and Missionary Society · Oakland, California · Aug 6, 1885

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 11, No. 30.

Let Us Play.

By Mrs. N. K. Bradford

If it should seem paradoxical to say that play is work, let us watch for an hour one of our children play “keep house,” or build a fort, or do any of the hundred things that the average boy and girl find to do during a day. Notice the constant attention given to the business on hand. See the busy little housewife discipline her inanimate family, and mark the fact that she is more fond of doing than of giving orders, no matter what her station in life may be. How often, as you fold the dear child in your arms at close of day and kiss down the drooping eyelids, you say, “She is so tired of play.” “She has played so hard all day.”

But, dear mother, she has worked hard all day, therefore let us consider the matter of directing the children’s energies to a certain extent, and see if they will not be better and happier for it. I know that many a mother will say, “Oh, I haven’t time to play with my children. Only mothers who have plenty of money and plenty of servants can do that.”

Before arguing this point, allow me to give a bit of advice as regards toys. Do not buy many, nor cheap, perishable things, which are quickly disposed of, and create a demand for something new from day to day. For a little girl, buy household utensils and dolls, for the mother instinct must be satisfied. Give her a tiny broom and dust-pan, a flat-iron and table, a set of dishes, of course, as well as a miniature laundry set. There is scarcely an article in use in our well-furnished houses that is not made in miniature. Now, having purchased some of these things, for a Christmas or a birthday gift, would it really take much time to show just how to use them? Take ten minutes out of your day and teach her how to lay a real table; how to lay her little cloth straight, to set mamma’s place with the cups, saucers, etc., and papa’s with the meat dish before him. Give her some tiny napkins, of paper if need be, and show her where to put them, how to arrange the knives, forks, and dishes. Give her sometimes some “truly food,” and on another day show her how to use her little broom. Let her hunt for cobwebs (if you are very busy), telling her that those are to be taken down first. Great will be her delight should the search be successful! Then show her how to take short, firm strokes with her broom, and, beginning in the corners, how to bring all the dirt she can gather in a nice heap at the door. Go on in this way, really teaching some new household art from day to day and you will be

surprised and delighted to see how deft the young housekeepers become. A child soon learns that his toys are only toys if he is not taught to make any use of them, hence he soon tires of them.

For your boy, if you live in the country, get, first of all, garden tools; a diminutive wheel-barrow or a cart, as soon as he is large enough to use them. So many of his best lessons may be taught from nature’s open book that no thoughtful father will neglect the teaching, or feel that he has “no time” to devote to it. For a boy shut up in the city, alas, there are fewer healthful resources, yet provide him with a box of tools and a place where he may use them, and give him an occasional order for a small box or shelf. Let him have a tiny grocery store, if you can afford it, and, after showing him how to print “No liquors” over the door, stock it for him with rice, sugar, coffee, beans, etc.; then teach him how to use the delicate scales, how to do up a parcel neatly, and when you are busy with your sewing, dear mother, if he asks you the old question, which every mother hears so often, “What shall I do now?” order something from the grocery, and, when it is deposited in your lap, tell the dear little grocer something of the beautiful lands where the spices grow. Don’t say to him, unless you must, “Oh, run away; mamma’s busy now.” You always will be busy, and so will he. Your child’s training is your most important business, and, unless you find him something to do, the individual of whom Watts sings in his “Divine and Moral” will surely do so.

By and by, when Kate and Susie wield the scepter over their own houses, how much better they will do it for remembering how mother taught them when they were little girls. And how often, as your boy’s skillful fingers construct some trifling convenience or adornment for his own home, will his mind revert to the time when he did such things for mother; and, remembering it, his heart will grow tender, and his manhood stronger and better. It will take time and patience, and it will often “make a litter” about the house, but, dear mothers and fathers—let us play!—Mrs. N. K. Bradford, in the Congregationalist.