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BREAKING HIS SPIRIT

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Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Feb 5, 1902

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 28, No. 6.

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BREAKING HIS SPIRIT.

By Emma Churchman Hewitt

[Emma Churchman Hewitt, in Christian Work.]
Mrs. Travers lay back in her chair, pale and exhausted. A voice startled her into a sudden sitting up which sent the blood surging to her head, and for the moment brought on a blinding headache. It was her next-door neighbor, Mrs. Allen, who had that peculiar “neighborly habit” of coming into the house at all hours of the day without announcing herself in any way.
“My! how pale you look! You ought to take something! You look to me as tho you were going to be down sick! What can I do for you?” And Mrs. Allen bustled about in a manner tending in no way to allay nervous excitement.
Mrs. Travers tried to conceal her feelings, but she could not help wincing a little at the strong voice and bustling movements. She shook her head gently, and replied,—
“O no! There’s nothing special the matter with me. I’m just tired out a little. I’ve been having a tussle with Harry. They come just once in so often, and they always exhaust me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Why, every once in a while, not very often, but sometimes, Harry refuses to obey me, and then it is a question of who wins. Of course I am always victor in the end, but sometimes the siege is pretty long, and I grow very weary before it is over. But I have always had the strength to hold on.”
Mrs. Allen sat straight up in her chair, her eyes snapping.
“Well!” she exclaimed emphatically, “I’d like to see one of my children defy me! I always end the matter swift, sharp, and sudden. A good sound whipping always settles matters for the day.”
Mrs. Travers opened her eyes.
“For the day, Mrs. Allen! Why, when I settle matters it lasts for months. Sometimes six months go by before I run up against Harry’s obstinacy again.”
“Well, that isn’t my way!” with tone and manner as tho the speaker regarded her dictum as settling all matters with which she came in contact. “I have no fight. Just the minute I see a sign of rebellion, I take the switch to ’em. The next day I try ’em on the same thing again; and if they grumble, down comes the switch. About three times generally settles it. I had to whip Mary three times the other afternoon for acting ugly about putting on her pink dress when she wanted to wear her blue one.”
“Did it make any difference which one she wore?”
“Not a bit; but I knew she liked her blue one best, so I told her to wear her pink one. You’ve got to break their spirit early, Mrs. Travers, or you’ll have trouble.”
“It seems to me, Mrs. Allen, that you are having more trouble than I am. I only have a fuss about once in six months or so, and you have one every day,” said Mrs. Travers with a little smile.
Mrs. Allen seemed a little taken aback by this presentation of the case.
“Now, let me tell you, dear Mrs. Allen, that I think you are making the mistake of your life, and one that you will regret most bitterly later along. The trouble with Harry this morning was that he had taken a pencil from his father’s coat, and did not return it when I asked for it. Taking the pencil was disobedience, not returning it was defiance. His father wanted me to take it from him, and settle the matter; but I said, ‘No, he must give it to me. I have told him to do so.’ So for an hour and a half he sat on a chair with me beside him. All I did was to say in an even, firm tone, ‘Harry, give mama the pencil!’ At the end of that time he handed the pencil over, threw his arms around my neck, burst into tears and promised of his own accord to ‘be good.’ I shall not have any trouble with him for a long time again. To be sure, he is but two years old, but he understands.”
Mrs. Allen was learning a few things.
“And, dear Mrs. Allen, believe me, they really understand much earlier than one gives them credit for, if one only notices. And as to ‘breaking their spirit,’ O that is an awful thing to do! Imagine! why, you are eradicating all the determination out of them. Don’t you know you ought to thank God every day of your life for the obstinacy in your children? Don’t you know that that is what makes will power and determination later in life, if it be properly directed?”
A light broke over Mrs. Allen’s face. “That must have been what my Cousin Mary meant one day. I forgot to ask her. Her mother was complaining of the second child as being so obstinate. ‘Now I never have the least trouble with Jack,’ Aunt Louise said, ‘he is very easy to manage. No matter what happens, he gives in right away; but as for Jennie, she is as obstinate as a mule when she takes a notion.’ ‘That’s just the trouble, mother,’ said Cousin Mary, with a worried expression on her face. ‘I’ve no fear about Jennie getting along in the world. Her obstinacy will carry her through. But Jack troubles me a good deal. To be sure he is only five now, but he is so easily governed that I fear for him. He will be easily led. Pray God he may learn to be firm as he grows older, or I fear there are bad days ahead of him.’ It struck me strangely at the time, but I think I see what she meant.”
Mrs. Travers nodded and then replied eagerly,—
“And then their tastes, Mrs. Allen! These should be consulted, or how can the children learn to form judgment? From the time I can remember, my mother always took me with her to buy my clothes, and selecting two or three pieces suitable in kind, price, and color, allowed me to choose one for myself. She also gave me a choice as to what I should put on, explaining why anything I selected was unsuitable. We never ‘fussed’ at home about anything, and we were all very close to mother.”
There was a little silence, and then Mrs. Allen said, with a little quaver in her voice,—
“I hope that after this my children, too, will become ‘close to mother,’” and she went away without another word, while Mrs. Travers lay back again in her chair, her face illuminated with a tender smile.