A SMILE FOR HOME | AdventAI

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Feb 17, 1904

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 30, No. 7.

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A SMILE FOR HOME.

"TAKE that home with you, my dear," said Mrs. Lewis, her manner half smiling, half serious.

"Take what home, Carrie?" and Mr. Lewis turned toward his wife curiously.

Now, Mrs. Lewis had spoken from the moment's impulse, and already partly regretted her remark.

"Take what home?" repeated her husband; "I don't understand you."

"That smiling face you turned upon Mr. Edwards, when you answered his question just now."

Mr. Lewis slightly averted his head, and walked on in silence. They had called in at the shop of Mr. Edwards to purchase a few articles, and were now on their way home. There was no smile on the face of Mr. Lewis now, but a grave expression instead—grave almost to sternness. The words of his wife had taken him altogether by surprise; and, tho lightly spoken, jarred upon his ears.

"Take that home with you, dear." Ah, me! I wish these words had not been said. There will be darker clouds now, and they were dark enough before! Why can't Mr. Lewis leave his cares and business behind him, and let us see the old, pleasant, smiling face again? I thought this morning he had forgotten how to smile! but I see that he can smile if he tries, and why doesn't he try at home?" So Mrs. Lewis talked to herself as she moved along by the side of her husband, who had not spoken a word since her reply to his query.

"What then, Carrie?"

"It would send warmth and radiance through the whole house," said Mrs. Lewis, her tones all trembling with feeling.

"It isn't so easy a thing to put on a smiling face, Carrie, when thought is oppressed with care."

"It did not seem to require much effort just now," said Mrs. Lewis, glancing up at her husband with something of an archness in her look.

"You, Carrie, are guilty of a sober face at home as well as your husband," Mr. Lewis spoke with a tender reproof in his voice.

"But the sober face is caught from yours oftener than you imagine, my husband," replied Mrs. Lewis.

"Are you certain of that, Carrie?"

"Very certain; you make the sunshine and shadow of your home. Smile upon us; give us cheerful words; enter into our feelings and interests, and there will be no brighter home in all the land. A shadow on your countenance is a veil for my heart; and the same is true as respects our children."

"I am glad, Carrie, that you have spoken thus plainly. I only wish that you had done so before. I see how it is; my smiles have been for the outside world, the world that neither loved nor cared for me,—and my clouded brow for the dear ones at home, for whom thought and care are ever-living activities."

Mr. and Mrs. Lewis were now at their own door, where they paused a moment, and went in. Instantly on passing his threshold, Mr. Lewis felt the pressure upon him of his usual state. The hue of his feeling began to change. The cheerful, interested exterior put on for those he met in business intercourse began rapidly to change, and a sober hue to succeed.

When the day's business was over, his mind fell into a brooding state, and lingered over its disappointments, or looked forward with failing hope into the future—for hope in many things had long been deferred. And so he rarely had smiles for his home.

"Take that home with you, dear," whispered Mrs. Lewis, as they moved along the passage, and before they had joined the family.

The warning was just in time.

"Thank you for the words," said he, "I will not forget them."

And he did not; but at once rallied himself, and, to the great surprise of Jennie, Will, and Mary, met them with a new face, covered with fatherly smiles, and with pleasant questions in pleasant tones of their day's employments. The feelings of children move in quick transitions. They had not expected a greeting like this; but the response was immediate. Little Jennie climbed into her father's arms. Will came and stood by his chair, answering in lively tones his questions, while Mary, older by a few years than either of the others, leaned against her father's shoulder and laid her white hands upon his head, smoothing back the dark hair, just showing a little frost, from his temples.

A pleasant group was this for the eyes of Mrs. Lewis as she came forth to the sitting room, from her chamber, where she had gone to lay off her bonnet and shawl and change her dress. Well did her husband understand the meaning look she gave him; and warmly did her heart respond to the smile he threw back to her.

"Words fitly spoken are like apples of gold in pictures of silver," said Mr. Lewis, speaking to her as she came in.

"What do you mean by that?" asked Mary, looking curiously into her father's face.

"Mother understands," replied Mr. Lewis.

"Something pleasant must have happened," said Mary, "you and mother look so happy."

"And we have cause to be happy," answered the father, as he drew his arm tightly around her, "in having three such good children."

Mary laid her cheek on his and whispered, "If you are smiling and happy, father, home will be like heaven."

Mr. Lewis kissed her, but did not reply. He felt a rebuke in her words. But the rebuke only gave a new strength to his purpose.

"Don't distribute all your smiles. Keep a few of the warmest and brightest for home," said Mrs. Lewis, as she parted with her husband the next morning.

He kissed her, but did not promise. The smiles were kept, however, and evening saw them, tho not

for the outside world. Other and many evenings saw the same cheerful smiles and the same happy home. And was not Mr. Lewis a better and happier man? Of course he was. And so would all men be if they would take home with them the smiling aspect with which they meet men in business intercourse, or exchange words in passing compliments.

Take your smiles and cheerful words home with you, husbands, fathers, and brothers. Your homes are dark and cold without them.—Selected.