WHY SHOULD SHE BE DISCOURAGED?
By E. Herbruck
A MOTHER, wearied with the care of six children, said: "Why should I worry with them as I do? I am wearing out my life; my labor is all in vain, for it seems that I cannot get them to do right." We have no doubt about the worry and care, the many heart-aches, the sleepless nights on account of the little ones, but this is no reason why she should not persevere in her work, however discouraging it may be. There is one thing mothers ought never to forget, and that is that the nursery is the training-school for the children, that they are the instructors of their own offspring, and that according to the care they have given them in infancy, will they be of worth as men. When we contemplate the results, all this worry sinks into insignificance. The mother fails, is broken down in her arduous work, but the child grows. The storm has blown down the tree, but the young shoot thrives until it has acquired all the strength and glory of the parent tree. There are many mothers who forget this, and ask again and again why they should worry and toil for their children when they see no results. It is true that they cannot see the end. It is not given them to turn over the pages of the book of life and read the account of the success or failure of one that was loved, and cared for, and wept over. What a revelation it would be to mothers if they could see the influence of their own teaching and care, and the great power of their own example! There are many reasons why the mother should persevere, and no reason why she should be discouraged. It is true that we like to see results. But there is a great distance between infancy and the more mature years of manhood. We may usually judge as to what the results will be by the means used to bring them about. The influence of the mother is very great; greater far than we imagine. Trials there are, disappointments innumerable, repulses many, in the work of child-training, but above all and over all there is the silent impress of a mother's influence and love, that perishes not. That influence is like the name cut into the bark of certain trees. It grows and enlarges as the tree grows. So the mother's mark will be left upon the child. It will grow and deepen as the child grows, and though it may seem very small at first, yet in almost every instance the influence of the mother, whether for good or bad, will cling to her offspring. Because the power exercised by woman is gentle, it is none the less effective. How silently and effectively the dew falls, and yet what a force it is. Men in their dealing with the world often make great and telling blows in a moment. The world knows their actions; they are heralded abroad. The mother's influence upon the character of her child to a great extent remains unknown and unseen. She strikes no great blows, but her gentle touch is more far-reaching in its influence than the grand maneuver which gains for men the applause of the world. She gives no great command, but her tender word sends its influence down the ages. She has sown the seed; at the proper time it will germinate. It needs only the condition, and the seed long dormant will spring into life, and blossom into a garden of eternal sunshine and gladness. If the mother knew—and every mother should know—what she is doing, what kind of a character she is forming for the future, we would never be under the necessity of asking or answering the question why she should persevere. Have you a proper idea of what you are doing, mother? You are training a child for good or woe. Your care and trouble will help to form the character of a loved and honest man, or the character of a hated monster of evil. Look upon your boy to-night as he sleeps the sleep of innocence. Do you see in those blue eyes the marks of the sensualist? Do those features betray the man of vice and wickedness? or do you see in the boyish face only the lines of manhood, honesty, virtue, whose countenance will shine as an angel's, and whose heart will be filled with praise? Look upon that young face. Your troubles are forgotten now; the heart-aches have been transformed into deep, burning mother love. The unkind words you have spoken burn on your tongue like coals of fire, and scorching tears run down your cheek. Are you dreaming?—No, not dreaming. The boy is there. There are great possibilities wrapped up in that form. Under your hands he may be moulded into a man loved, respected, a man who will honor God and lead souls to Christ; or he may be a villain, a cowardly wretch whose deeds are evil only. That child will one day stand with the shining hosts of heaven, or with those who have no hope. The future of the nation, yea, of the world, depends upon your conduct in the home. There are difficulties. We would not exaggerate them, nor would we make them less than they are. But when we see what mothers have already accomplished, when we see the good, brave, noble men she has sent into the world, and when we contemplate her silent yet mighty power to fashion the race into something like what God intended it to be, we see no reason why any mother should be discouraged.—Rev. E. Herbruck, in Interior.