FAITHFULNESS IN THE HOME by Mrs. L. D. Avery-Stuttle

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Aug 24, 1904

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 30, No. 34.

FAITHFULNESS IN THE HOME.

By Mrs. L. D. Avery-Stuttle

I HAVE a friend who has only one child,—a dear little boy. Having no girls, she has very sensibly taught Clyde to do many little chores in the house to help her. One day she left him at home alone, and assigned him the task of sweeping the sitting-room.

When she came home, she found everything neatly done. There was no dirt under the rugs or in the corners.

"You have done nicely, my dear," the mother said to him. "I see you have shaken the rugs and swept in the corners."

"Yes, mama; I did not feel a bit like doing it; I wanted to let the rugs go, and the corners, too; for I thought you would never look to see, and so you would never know. I wanted to look at my new picture book, and the fact is, mama, I don't like to sweep very well; but, you know, the preacher said last Sabbath, that the angels are looking at us all the time. So I thought I would hate to have the angel look under the rugs and in the corners, and write in his book that little Clyde Brown hadn't swept his mama's room clean. So I just tried to do my best."

Now if this little boy felt the need of being faithful in the doing of a simple duty, how, I ask, can parents neglect the sacred duty they owe to their children, of guiding their young feet in the way of righteousness, and still be guiltless? Mothers and fathers, have you opened the doors of your child's heart by the key of kindness and love, and looked carefully for the black trail of hidden sin? Have you swept under the rugs? Have you lighted a candle and peered into all the corners? Up! be at your duty; or the stains of sin will only become darker as the days go by.

We hear a great deal about being "faithful." Hardly ever a sermon is preached or a testimony borne, but that the desire is expressed to be faithful. But this implies much. A faithful mother will not slight her family duties to spend the morning hours in gossip and small talk with her neighbors. She will not neglect putting a patch on Johnny's coat or darning little Susie's stockings, for the sake of spending an hour or two studying the latest fashion magazine with Mrs. New Style. Aye, more than this, a faithful mother will not allow anything,—not even a missionary meeting,—to hinder her from the performance of those necessary duties which fall to the lot of each mother and wife to secure the comfort of her family. And so, I say, no true mother will rest easy listening to the eloquent minister as he portrays the deplorable condition of the poor heathen, when her own little daughter is out on the streets amusing herself with questionable associates, so as to while away the evening till "ma gets home from meeting." Neither will the faithful father spend his time at the lodge, while he has reason to believe that his young sons are taking lessons in cigaret-smoking and beer-drinking over at the saloon on the corner.

"Well, as long as I send my son to school, and buy him good clothes, and feed him at my table, I consider my duty as a father is done."

Do you? That is the belief of a great many fathers in the world, and this very belief is in a great part responsible for the reign of utter lawlessness and criminality which has these late years broken out like a pestilence among the boys,—and, I had almost said, the girls—of our unhappy land.

Look at the newspapers to-night; my word for it, they will be reeking with filthy and horrible accounts of crimes which would shame a hardened criminal, and all committed by boys in their teens,—whose boys? YOURS? Ah! they are somebody's boys. Perhaps not yours now, but who can tell what effect a few months longer of street education may have upon your son,—yes, YOURS!

"But why are you so earnest about it? I see no particular danger. You are trying to frighten me. Of course I know Johnny is getting fond of cigarettes, and Willie is acquiring a taste for beer, but I do not like to be preached at, nor to preach to them; my boys must choose for themselves."

Must they? Well, they are choosing; and, my brother, I tell you, they are choosing destruction. Are you going to sit quietly by, and not "cry aloud?" A year ago many a young criminal of to-day stood just where your boy is standing now. Ah, somebody was not faithful. Some mother did not take as much time as she ought, teaching her boy righteousness. Some father did not spend as long a time on his knees pleading before the Almighty for his boy's salvation, as he did in discussing the latest ball play or prize fight.

In the name of our Master, I ask you, Are we to allow the youth to go to destruction, and not raise a hand to snatch them as brands from the burning? Father, mother, I say to you, in God's name, BE FAITHFUL. Your business first, last, all the time, is the training of those boys and girls who ought to rise up and call you blessed, instead of cursing you for your unfaithfulness when their folly has brought them into sore trouble.

"I learned gambling from my mother at home. She thrust my little hand into the grab-bag before I was old enough to know the value of the prize I drew. I grew to love the game of chance. Then I began to play marbles 'for keeps,' and it was not long before I became a regular patron of the gaming table. I learned to drink hard cider in my father's cellar. Gambling and drink brought me to the gallows,—and I learned both at home."

The white lips ceased speaking; the dark, pleading, horror-stricken, youthful eyes take one more quick glance around upon the beautiful earth and the shining sun; the pallid lips twitch pitifully; the black cap is drawn down. Another youthful felon has met his doom.

Again I say, Somebody has been unfaithful.

Years and years ago there lived a good man. He was trying to be a man of God, I am sure. He had two little boys. His father-heart loved them fondly; but he was too "easy-going" with them. They grew up to fill a most sacred office—that of priests of the Lord. But, on account of their poor father's unfaithfulness in their early training, they forsook the Lord, and committed such acts of folly and wickedness, that they not only lost their own souls, but their evil course caused many others to fall into discouragement and sin. They met a sad end, and perished without a ray of hope, while poor Eli died heart-broken,—for I surely believe his heart was broken, and he probably fainted with grief before he fell.

But, let us thank God, all are not unfaithful. God has always had some faithful children. You will find them where you would least expect it,—hidden in the dark corners, away off in the country; in the little village; on the farm; in the cottage; even in the dangerous and filthy tenement districts of our crowded cities,—even there are some faithful ones. We do not always know where to find them, but the angels know their street and number as well as they did that of Simon the tanner.

"Faithful unto death" would be a very appropriate epitaph for many a man who never preached a sermon and for many a woman who never wrote a book.

One of the sweetest promises of the Bible is that which says:—

"Be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee a crown of life."