p. 10 | THE CHILD by Mrs. Mary Wood-Allen, M.D.

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Aug 13, 1902

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 28, No. 33.

THE CHILD

By Mrs. Mary Wood-Allen, M.D.

X. THE ADOLESCENT.

In early childhood the queries of the little mind arise from an earnest desire for knowledge. As he advances to maturity he comes to feel new impulses which, arising in his own being, create in him a desire for experience. This is the critical time in life for both boys and girls. Left to themselves, they are in great danger, through their very ignorance. They may be led astray, and fall into sin unconscious that it is sin. And so their whole future lives and the lives of their descendants will be blighted by the poisonous touch of impurity, when a true knowledge given in due season might have saved them.

During childhood there is naturally no inner impulse leading to personal investigation. Sex forms no part of the life of the normal child; and impure desires must arise from some abnormal conditions, resulting from local irritations, from evil instruction, or from inherited impulses.

But as he approaches maturity there awaken new powers, those powers which shall bind him to the race, which shall make him of racial value, and give him his widest influence. He does not understand this. He can not be expected to understand. But he begins to be swayed by new impulses that fill him with unrest. His whole being is in a state of evolution, which, if not wisely guided, may become revolution. Through the influence of this unfolding, he may begin to grow very rapidly, sometimes increasing as much as six inches in a year. He broadens in figure, and is oppressed by the amount of new physical material he has to manage, and so acts awkwardly. His increase of mental breadth oppresses him also with opinions, numerous, hastily formed, and often aggressively unruly. His spiritual nature is aroused; and he begins to be a dreamer, a seer of great visions which he conceals in his own heart, and is embarrassed if by any means they are made known to the world. This young creature, boy or girl, is in the most impressionable stage of existence. Just now the nature may be most easily influenced for good or ill. The majority of criminals in our land are between 16 and 21 years of age. And on the other hand the majority of religious converts are made between the same ages. These are the years when young people need the truest sympathy, the wisest guidance.

The girl at this time of life is better understood than the boy. Her mother knows the approaching physical crisis and watches over her with tender care. But the crisis in the boy's life is as great, if not greater. The inner forces are more compelling, the outward temptations more seductive. Just at this time the boy needs all that family love can create around him of understanding and affectionate care. And yet this is too often the time when he is left to the mercy of outside influences. Parents and older brothers and sisters have little patience with his eccentricities. They snub his opinions, they ridicule his ambitions, they laugh at his dawning gallantry. They treat him as a child while they expect from him the conduct of the man.

The boy at this period is truly to be pitied. He feels the impulses of the man; but has still the judgment of the child; and no one appears to understand him. He does not understand himself; and no one troubles to explain him to himself.

No one? Ah yes. There are those ever at hand only too willing to teach him truths in an untrue way; to give him a wrong valuation of his priceless riches of manhood; and to instruct him in spendthrift ways which may bankrupt him even in early life.

In view of these facts which no man of experience can gainsay, would it not be far wiser if parents themselves were the guides of their children through the mazes of the "land of the teens"? if mothers and fathers united in being the special teachers of their sons and daughters?

I have heard that when a Jewish boy reaches this critical period his father and mother take him apart by themselves for a day of special instruction. The father gives him the knowledge of his own organism and its sacred functions, and then the mother teaches him of purity of thought and life. Whether this custom actually exists or not, it is a picture of what should be.

No boy could come from such a sacred hour without higher ideals, truer self-respect, more appreciation of womanhood, and a deeper reverence for motherhood.

Feeling sure of the knowledge he has received as authoritative, he will not be curious to receive information from less accredited sources, and the impure ideas of his less fortunate companions will have no charm for him.

One mother, feeling that she must talk to her young son, performed the duty with fear and trembling but with earnest prayer. When she had ended, the boy left the room without a word and the mother's heart sank, for she feared that she had made a mistake. Some days later he suddenly said to her, "Mother, I don't care to talk to the boys about those things since you talked to me and explained them." Then the mother's heart glowed with thankfulness.

Another mother, burdened with the thought of her duty, prepared herself for it by deep study of physiological facts and earnest prayer for divine guidance. The boy was home from school with a felon, and she consecrated a day to the sacred duty. After her breakfast dishes were done, she called him to her, and together they read and talked and studied and wept and prayed. At the close of this holy day, the boy threw his arms around his mother's neck and said, "O mother, I wish all the boys could have just such teaching. It would save many of them from wickedness, as I know it will save me." And this testimony is duplicated on all sides. Boys desire knowledge, but they love it purely given. It is not because they innately desire impurity that they listen so attentively to wrong teaching.

"The thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts." The aspirations of the boy are grander than you imagine. He wants the best, and will thank you if you give it to him. One boy of fifteen, who had read "Almost a Man," wrote me, "I want to thank you who have saved my soul." Is it not worth while to save a soul? And will not the loss of souls be laid at the door of parents who refuse or neglect to give wise teaching to their children?