How to Deal With Carelessness in Children
This mothers’ exchange was not a “woman’s club,” nor was it a “literary circle.” It was simply a gathering of a few earnest mothers who met occasionally to discuss matters pertaining to bringing up their children, and to exchange thought. It had no officers and few rules. The one rule, in fact, was “that the membership should be limited to mothers only,” and the meetings “experience” ones. Each mother in turn entertained the circle, and held herself responsible for the subject to be discussed, introducing it by means of an informal paper or talk. On this particular afternoon the subject chosen was “Carelessness in children and how best to deal with it.” “I must confess,” began the hostess, “that in the management of my children I have found the faults of ‘omission’ much more difficult to deal with than those of ‘commission.’ It is so hard to correct a child for what it ‘did not mean to do,’ or ‘has forgotten to do.’ Actual disobedience, or intentional wrongdoing, is far easier to correct; and just here I have found lies the danger line. We are so apt to overlook these little faults which imperceptibly grow into confirmed habits before we are aware of their existence. In my early married life I had my thoughts directed to this matter in a very forcible way. A friend of my husband had asked him to take into his office his eldest son, a boy of seventeen, which he was glad to do, for he seemed to be a capable boy, with a very pleasing address, and so obliging that he was a universal favorite. At the end of the first month he was dismissed, to the regret of his employer and to every one’s surprise. ‘I could not keep him,’ announced my husband, when I questioned him, ‘because he did not do one thing well nor thoroughly. He was hopelessly careless and untidy in his work. He could not write the simplest letter correctly, nor could I rely upon him in the smallest matter. I was obliged to let him go before he got me into trouble, and I was very sorry to do it, for I liked him immensely; he was so willing to work, if he had only been taught properly—but he will never make a success at anything.’” “You may be sure this sorry failure set me thinking seriously, as I had a boy of my own who of late had been growing careless with regard to losing his books and caps and unnecessarily tearing his clothes. His father rather admired this ‘boyishness,’ as he called it, in Tom, and argued that he would be a ‘sissy’ if he had to think of these little things. ‘Accidents would happen,’ etc. One day he came home from a school picnic, having had a royal time and in his usually dilapidated condition. He had fallen into the brook and ruined a pair of new shoes, had rolled under a barb wire fence and torn his shirt-waist beyond mending. As for his coat, he had lost that altogether. I counted the cost of this picnic, and estimated it to be over five dollars. His father excused him, as usual, and wished nothing to be done about it. ‘Boys would be boys,’ he said, ‘and it was a pity to spoil his fun. Give him another chance, and don’t say anything about it this time.’ I reluctantly yielded to his wish, but tried to make him see that this recklessness was becoming a serious thing. ‘Will Tom,’ I asked him, ‘when he grows up and has charge of other people’s property, be any more careful of it than of his own, if he is never taught the value of things nor held responsible?’ I reminded him of his unfortunate young clerk whom he had dismissed, and he agreed with me that hereafter we must take a different course.” “About a week later Tom came in one afternoon, his new school suit ruined with red clay. He explained penitently that he had quite forgotten to change it before going into the river wading, had forgotten to roll his trousers up, and found himself in deep water before he knew it. I examined the suit carefully, and then said, very decidedly: ‘Tom, these clothes will have to be sent to the cleaner’s. I can do nothing with them, and as it was most unnecessary for you to wear your new suit in wading, I shall expect you to pay one half the bill.’” “The poor boy was so inexpressibly sorry for what he had done, and took his punishment so well, that I found it difficult not to relent. The sum of money so small to me, meant so much to him. But I held firmly to my purpose, and with good results. Only once after that did I require to resort to such severe measures, and this time the offense was a graver one, yet the boy had no intention of wrong-doing. I had sent him to a store to buy something, and he returned short in his change by a small amount. In his great haste he had jerked the money out of his pocket onto the floor, and some of the loose coins had rolled into a crack and been lost. This matter I treated most seriously, not only insisting upon its being made good by the boy himself, but explaining to him how carelessness in money matters might lead to a suspicion of dishonesty. He saw the reasonableness of this, and from that time we had little trouble with him. When he went to a boarding-school a few years later, his father gave him an allowance, and he regularly rendered an exact account of his expenses. . . .” “At this time I had been trying to think of some pleasanter method of teaching carefulness to Tom’s younger brothers and sisters, who, in the ever-busy school life, with its rush, were growing extravagant and forgetful. It was so easy to lose pencils, tablets, or even car tickets; sometimes even books or umbrellas, and easier still to ask for more. But I felt the principle was wrong, and after much consultation we decided upon a plan which worked like a charm.” “We provided, at the beginning of each school term, everything necessary, and in addition a small sum of money—fifty cents, if I remember—to cover losses or to be pocket-money if not needed. It was wonderful how this experiment succeeded, although, of course, the little foxes which had been eating the tender grapes so long before we set traps for them, were not to be captured in a day. Reforms came slowly, and a few losses were reported. One little girl lost a pair of rubbers, which cost her over a month’s pocket-money, and on another occasion a grammar was lost; but, on the whole, we were much pleased with our plan. I don’t pretend to say it was easy or agreeable for us to carry out, and I was often more severely punished than the children; nor did I like to be called overstrict, as I sometimes heard it whispered. Very often I found myself wanting to relax the discipline and let matters go on in the old way, but at such moments I had only to look ahead to the children’s future, when we would not be there with our help and advice to stand between them and a censorious world, and to remind myself that this was in reality kindness rather than severity.”—Northwestern Christian Advocate.