p. 14 | Girls by Mrs. A. J. S. Bourdeau

Pacific Press Publishing Association

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 33, No. 38.

Girls

By Mrs. A. J. S. Bourdeau

The Dangers That Menace Them.

As our thoughts linger upon the subject of girls, a panorama passes before us,—young girls, old girls; short girls, tall girls; stout girls, thin girls; pale girls, rosy girls: slow girls and spry girls; flaxen-haired, brown-haired, and auburn-haired girls; gray-eyed, blue-eyed, and brown-eyed girls; trim and tidy girls, dull and slovenly girls; sweet girls, sulky girls; plain girls and pretty girls; quiet girls and noisy girls; girls that titter, and girls that chatter; girls that glower so that one fairly imagines a storm must be brewing, so depressing the atmosphere becomes in their presence, and happy girls, whose very looks quicken one with joy and buoyancy.

What danger can assail this large army marching from girlhood to womanhood? There are dangers threatening them, as many and diversified as the girls are, in numbers and characteristics.

The greatest danger menacing the girl—the danger including all others—is that she will not be trained in high ideals of true womanliness. “The child forms its character thru its surroundings.” The environment of the girl should be the actual working out of the ideals the parents desire to instil into her. In other words, the environment of the girl should be—and is—the daily living by the parents of their own teachings.

Unconsciously, then, the daughter will absorb and imbibe ideals of the nobility of womanhood, which will prove her surest safeguard against all perils.

A mother is her daughter's object-lesson. The mother whose manner is coarse, who is untidy in clothes, who is unrefined, can not, by all the teaching in the world, make her daughter dainty in dress, sweet, and thoughtful in manner.

“We have all worked with the refractory vine that would not twine with its fellows. We have gone to it day after day during the growing season, and bent it around its support. We have been so careful not to break the smallest tendril; but daily and persistently we have guided it. At length we were rewarded by seeing it cover, in graceful shape, the frame over which it climbed. Like the delicate, wayward vine, our children need the gentle, daily training. No spasmodic effort will do, but vigilance always.”

Mothers can not begin this training too early. It has been said that “a baby is influenced by the way its mother places it in the crib.” It is related of Mrs. Bottome that when her child wanted to go anywhere with her, she would say: “Do you think you can take care of your mother? Because if you can not, I do not think I shall take you.” It is not astonishing, then, that when this boy became a husband and a father, he still tenderly cared for his mother.

The following is an incident showing how strong early acquired habits may become in little children: “Two little girls were visiting a Southern town during a cotton season. The town was quite a cotton market, and presented an exceedingly untidy appearance; not only were detached samples and other pieces of cotton scattered about the dusty streets, but newspapers and other trash made the town unsightly. In the midst of such a scene these two little girls held up a diminutive paper bag from which they had just extracted the last animal cracker, and with very earnest faces and genuine anxiety in their tones, inquired, ‘O, mama, where shall we put this empty paper bag?’ With some difficulty their mother restrained a smile, and taking them into one of the shops near by she said, to the amazement of the young clerk, ‘Will you kindly put this paper bag in your trash basket? These little girls are not accustomed to throwing paper in the street.’ The clerk told a friend afterward it was the best lesson in neatness he had ever had.”

From her earliest conscious actions, the little girl should be taught to regard her body as “the temple of God.” The golden thread running thru all the mother's training should be to instil in the child a wholesome respect for the body. This instruction regarding the respect due the body makes up a chain, every link of which, in itself, seems almost trivial. Yet it helps to complete a chain which will securely bind the girl to purity. Does the child habitually see the body intemperately abused with food and drink?—One link in this protecting purity chain is gone. Is she taught to keep her body exquisitely dainty?—One link is forged. Does her mother clothe her immodestly as a little girl, “because she looks so cute”?—Another link in the purity chain is broken. Coarse jests, rude familiarity, indecent decollette, immodest dress of any sort—all these, tho seemingly trifles, make for impurity in the girl. Small seeds will grow and bear fruit.

“In a street-car, not long ago, stood a tall, beautiful girl. Beside her was her mother. When the car gave a lurch, the mother put out her hand toward her daughter for support. The passengers were amazed to hear her say: ‘Don't lean on me.' It was not a playful ‘Don't lean on me, mother dear, I shall prove a poor support,' but an irritated, ugly ‘Don't lean on me!' Maybe, when a child, the girl had heard often from her mother's lips the irritated words: ‘Don't lean on me!' ‘Don't bother me!' ‘Go away!'” The seed had borne fruit.

(Concluded Next Week.)