Part 7
At noon the substantial provision of the day is to be served and a cup of soup may begin the dinner, followed by a very small piece of steak or chop cut up fine, or by an egg, if one has not been taken at breakfast, a baked potato, well mashed, with butter or cream and salt upon it. Rice is also excellent when served with plenty of good butter. A plain sweet, like stewed fruit, a milk pudding, one of rice, of arrowroot, tapioca, or a custard, will answer. Milk may again be drunk unless the child has eaten a meat soup or broth and meat besides.
Generally the little one who has taken so substantial a meal as this at noon will need nothing more until supper-time, when bread and milk, crackers and milk, or something of the sort may be provided; or bread and a good plain jam or stewed fruit, like prunes or apple-sauce, with a glass of milk. After this comes the child’s bed-time, and it should be put to sleep in a quiet room, alone, with the door open if symptoms of nervousness declare themselves, but without a nurse or other attendant. This may sound hard-hearted, but the child who is accustomed to such solitude from infancy will not feel it an infliction, and the saving of inconvenience to the parents in the habit of going to sleep unattended is incalculable.
The good manners of the child should receive early consideration. The habit of courtesy implanted in infancy gives a finish of manner in later life that no surface polish can impart. It is as easy for a little boy and girl to be taught to rise when elders come into the room, to take their turn at the table, to handle a knife, fork, and spoon properly, to eat in a decent fashion, to say, “Thank you,” “If you please,” and the like, and to show the thoughtfulness for the feelings and comfort of others which is the foundation of all good breeding, as it is to let the youngsters grow up as they will and hammer superficial manners into them when they are older. The good old rule that “children should be seen and not heard” is sadly in need of a revival in many homes, and parents cannot wonder at the unpopularity of their offspring when they reflect upon the disagreeable qualities these often possess.
All this does not mean that children should constantly be snubbed and repressed until individuality and initiative are crushed out of them. In most children these characteristics are strong and triumphant. But a certain measure of deference to elders should be inculcated--a respect which will prevent a child from interrupting the conversation of his seniors, a regard for the conventions which, after all, have more to do with peace and amity in the family than many of us are willing to admit.
As the child grows older and begins school and kindergarten, other children will be associated with him, and from them he will learn many things it would never occur to his parents to teach him. Sometimes it seems as though the least that children acquire at school is their regular lessons. These become almost a side issue. The influence of the strange boy or girl often carries more weight with a child than all the precepts of father, mother, and teacher. Part of this effect is transitory, but much of it sticks through life; and while the children are little more than babies it becomes incumbent upon the parents--by which is usually meant the mother--to strengthen the bond between herself and her child so that she may the more effectually offset the outside forces that sway him.
The sooner the mother recognizes that this is her lifelong “job” and a most important one, the better for all concerned. The mere animal care of the child any competent nurse could bestow, and sometimes it seems as if the charge of a specialist who understood the ins and outs of dietetics and was able to study the child’s constitution impersonally might perhaps be better than the attention received from the average parent. With regard to the question of instruction in book learning there is little doubt that a well-qualified teacher is far more capable than the most devoted father or mother. All such duties as these can be delegated to those who are trained and paid for the work.
When it comes to the companionship, however, it is another matter. Here is something only the mother can give. It is “up to her” to study the ins and outs of her child’s nature; to know where and how to bring pressure in order to counterbalance another influence; to make herself so one with him that he turns to her instinctively, with complete confidence in her ability to meet his need; to be so close in his intimacy that she grasps his thoughts almost before they are formulated; to persuade him unconsciously to rely upon her judgment, her companionship, her understanding to an extent that will hold him in temptation and move him to range himself on the side of right against wrong.
Of course it is not always easy. The mother does not resign her own individuality by the mere fact of motherhood; she does not lay aside her special interests when she takes up those of her child. Yet if she lets him suspect that anything comes ahead of his well-being in her heart she makes a fatal mistake; she starts the rift between them which may widen into a chasm not to be bridged by all her agony and tears.
It may sometimes be hard to yield up one’s own will and preference in this way, and yet the mother gets her pay as she goes along, and her labor brings its reward in a fashion unequaled in any other vocation in the universe. Nothing in the whole world pays so well as being a mother!
THE END
Transcriber's Notes:
Italics are shown thus: _sloping_.
Variations in spelling and hyphenation are retained.
Perceived typographical errors have been changed.