MOTHER AND TEACHER by Mrs. Rev. J. H. Castle

Seventh-day Adventist Missionary Society · Oakland, California · Apr 1, 1880

MOTHER AND TEACHER.

By Mrs. Rev. J. H. Castle

BY MRS. REV. J. H. CASTLE.

It is said that two grey-hounds running together, will kill more hares than four others, running separately. There is power in combined effort which cannot be secured when the forces act apart. One may chase a thousand, but two may put ten thousand to flight. It is co-operation that secures the best successes.

The mother and the Sabbath-school teacher are engaged in one work,—the spiritual education of the child. Shall they act in concert, or separately? If separately, there may be good results. A bow drawn at a venture sometimes hits the mark, and this is well enough for an emergency. But child-training is not work in an emergency. It is the regular, heaven-ordained means to an end. The mother by nature, and the teacher by grace, are ordained, in the truest and most sacred sense, for this very duty; and there should be no chances or risks on either side.

But even Christian mothers differ, and so do Christian teachers. The child at home, too, often differs from the child at school. Co-operation is therefore demanded. The teacher must confer with the mother, or the bow, on Sabbath, will be drawn at a dangerous venture. True, the facts of the lesson are the same to all, the spiritual lessons also; but the applications must be adapted to each child. There are children, whose deportment is most exemplary under the maternal eye, but who, in the class, work all manner of mischief. The mother's view of these children differs materially from the teacher's. They look from opposite stand-points,—both of which are wrong. The child is not all good, as the mother thinks; nor all bad, as the teacher thinks. The teacher is purblind until he knows the home-life of the child, and so is the mother, until she knows the school-life. This is the rule, and exceptions should never be the guide for action. Between rock-ledges, from a handful of sand, clusters of blossoms often grow; but a gardener would be mad, who, because the wilding blossomed, thought it unnecessary to bestow careful labor on his garden.

When the teacher is young and inexperienced, and the mother is mature, august, possibly wise and rich; then the teacher who might face the lowly in their homes, perchance finds it difficult to cross the portals of the mansion and of the heart of this mother. What is to be done in such a case? Does duty belong to the teacher only? May the mother content herself by saying, "My child's teacher has never called?" Or should she, with a woman's nice intuition, appreciate the situation, and invite the teacher to her home and heart, as her co-worker and assistant? The mother, whether rich or poor, wise or unwise, has serious responsibilities in connection with Sabbath school work; and this is one of them.

The wilding may grow with beauty. The boy who sleeps in a barrel, and who roams the streets by day, may become a zealous worker for Christ. A tinker of Elstow may kindle a light that shall shine through the ages. But the children of our families are not wildings nor waifs. They are planted in our homes for the most thoughtful cultivation, and this can be secured only by the union of all the forces for good. There are zealous conferences with the tailor and the dressmaker, that the outer garments may have a comely appearance; the mother and the cook confer to please the palate; but about spiritual food, and the garments which time and fashion may not change, there are altogether too little conference.—Baptist Teacher.