p. 10 | THE AIR WE BREATHE by Mrs. M. G. Call

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Nov 6, 1893

THE AIR WE BREATHE.

By Mrs. M. G. Call

BY MRS. M. G. CALL.

WE have two as healthy children as may be found in a day's travel. There are so many pale, delicate children, I have wondered if my experience in one point might not be helpful to younger mothers. Though gray-haired women were fully convinced that our little ones would not survive my "careless" treatment, our ten-year-old daughter has never had but one regular visit from a physician, and our sturdy boy of twelve knows almost nothing of medicine or sickness.

Do not fancy me a model mother; I am as the average, but I have tried to use the spark of common sense God gave me for their benefit.

No wonder so many children wake up cross, where they are left to take their nap in a room where all is bustle and noise, with no protection from flies, and covered so closely they are nearly suffocated. We read that the brain does not rest in the light, but it never occurs to us to apply our knowledge for the comfort of our weary darlings, by regulating the shade, but leave their faces turned toward a bright window.

Everyone knows, or should know, that the purity of the blood depends upon the amount of oxygen in the air we breathe. If someone should convince us that oxygen was poison, and outdoor air our worst enemy, many mothers would not find it necessary to change their treatment of their children. We fasten windows so that they may not be opened, and breathe over and over again the exhausted air of our homes. If the baby ventures toward an open door, we snatch him away as if there were pestilence in every breeze. Sunlight and pure air are free to most of us, but we choose to shut the sun from our rooms for fear of fading the carpets, and we are morally certain that an open window would make us catch our death.

My observation tells me that the children who are kept indoors constantly, whose sleeping room is seldom, if ever, properly aired, and whose mothers are in a constant worry lest they should "catch cold," are the very ones who suffer most.

In our severe climate it is difficult to secure perfect ventilation and keep warm at the same time, but our sleeping room windows may be thrown open every morning, and an ingenious mother can find a way to let in a little oxygen even on cold nights, without risk to her family. Warm clothing, cool sleeping rooms that have been well aired and sunned, wholesome food, and outdoor exercise in all seasons—to these, we believe, our children are indebted for their nearly perfect health.

Much has been written upon this subject. We read it all, and still toss restlessly, unable to sleep in close rooms, with a kerosene lamp burning somewhere to help use up the little oxygen that steals under our doors. We wonder what new medicine we had better try now. The children throw off the clothes and nearly tumble out of bed, and we cannot guess the cause of our long, weary nights. Open the windows, and doors too if necessary, and let in a good sweep of God's pure air; put out your light, and draw long, refreshing breaths, and the next thing you know it will be morning.

A shawl or sheet may be arranged as a screen if necessary. A double window hung on a hinge opening outward is very convenient in winter.—The Voice.