TRAINING

THE FIRST YEARS

In his book "Something of Myself for My Friends Known and

Unknown," Rudyard Kipling uses as the keynote for the first

chapter, the following quotation: "Give me the first six years

of a child's life; you can have the rest."

How parents ought to meditate on those words!

Why did Rudyard Kipling speak in this vein?

Before these first six years there is of course the question of

heredity. Every man is an heir and every man is an ancestor.

Children do resemble their parents. We have considered this

before.

There is a second kind of hereditary influence--the formation

that is given even before marriage by the father and the

mother. "When does the education of the child begin?"

Napoleon was asked. He replied, "Twenty years before its

birth in the education of its mother."

From its mother? From its father too. But the mother is

unquestionably a prime influence since until the child is at

least six the principal care of the child is in the hands of the

mother.

What a mistake to let a child give in to all its whims!

"But he doesn't understand," people say. "You can't reason

with a baby in the cradle."

No, of course not, but from the cradle on, the child can be

taught many things well. Not by reasoning but by habit-

formation.

Here are two mothers; both of them have a baby. Naturally

both babies cry when they want their desires known. In one

case, the mother who knows that all the needs and legitimate

wants of the baby have been satisfied, lets it cry; it should

like to advance if it could, the time for its bottle. No, it will be

served at the right time, not before. The little one soon

perceives that no one pays any attention to its demands and

ceases its tempestuous howling.

In the other case, the minute the baby begins to cry, the

mother dashes to soothe it. She cannot resist her baby's cry.

Instead of rearing it for itself, she rears it for herself, because

she suffers too much from hearing it call or because its tears

unnerve and disturb her. She gives in. She is lost. The little

one is going to become frightfully capricious. Later she will

not be able to control it. "Cry away my little man; you don't

need a thing," would be a more wholesome attitude than

yielding, provided of course, she knows that the baby is all

right and that her conduct is not motivated by laziness but

by a true desire to train the child.

That is only one detail. But in everything she should be

guided by the same principle--the true good of the child.

Then at six years it will know how to obey. And if the mother

follows through progressively with the development of the

child, helping it to use proper]y its young liberty, she has the

game in her own hands. All is not finished. It might be more

correct to say that all is beginning; nevertheless the mother

has successfully come through a vital stage. Up to this point

it is properly called training, a most necessary period indeed.

This training will develop into real education. If the early

training has been lacking, the succeeding education becomes

almost impossible; for how can one erect a stable structure

on a volcano; how build a firm will on a nature perpetually

wavering and swayed by caprice?

Kipling was right. In the light of the truth he expressed let me

correct, if necessary and if there is still time, my method of

acting.

LOVE FOR CHILDREN

IT IS essential to love children enough:

1. To be willing to have them

2. To be able to endure their demands

3. To be able to supernaturalize one's love for them.

1. To be willing to have them: I meditated on this point when I

considered the law of fecundity and charity in marriage.

2. To be able to endure their demands: Very little children

have no defense and no power. Someone must always come to

their assistance. Happy those who can guess these needs of

theirs. Mothers generally know the secret of that. But just the

same the baby will cry, become restless and set up a howl.

Every baby in the cradle is a revolutionary in the bud; the

best established customs ought to give way to its caprice, or

so it thinks, and if its desires are not obeyed, it storms and

puts the house in an uproar.

Furthermore the child is born cunning. It finds out very

quickly the best ways to get what it wants, not through

reasoning but by intuition. Such an action, such an attitude

produces the desired result; the opposite way of acting does

not work. There is no more limpid logic to be found

anywhere.

Nor any more transparent pride. It knows itself to be the

center of the household and is not ashamed to act the part. It

is a monarch. Papa and mamma, brothers, sisters, and all the

other members of the household make up its court, each one

dancing attendance to its thirty-six wills. Furthermore, it

distributes as rewards the favor of its broad smiles.

Later it will have to play, jump about and run; to break things

will be a delight; so too will it be fun just to sit still and listen

to a story. The little girl will be taken up with the care of her

doll and if her elders have bought her a doll that says papa,

mamma, they need expect to hear nothing else all day! The

little boy will play soldier or train or if he has received a

drum or whistle for Christmas, the household will be well

aware of it!

Parents should take serenely and as a matter of course the

baby's pranks and outbursts, working at the same time

toward a wise training, the prelude of a wise education. They

should expect their growing children to make noise, to be

curious, to want to touch everything; furthermore, they need

not feel obliged constantly, to put a damper on their romping

and their noise; whenever and wherever it is necessary they

ought to explain to the children what they may do and what

they ought to avoid.

3. To be able to supernaturalize one's love for them: Parents

should strive to love their children not only because of their

natural charm but for higher and truly divine reasons. "I love

my children so much," parents say as if they were vying with

one another; mothers especially are likely to talk like that. It

makes one want to warn them, "If only you could love them a

little less but love them a little better." Or rather, since we

never love too much but badly, "Love them as much as you

wish but for their sakes, not for your own."

For their sakes: Therefore do not give in to all their caprices;

do not try to spare them every effort; do not treat them as

little idols; do not teach them pride and vanity even from

their earliest years.

For their sakes: Therefore be alert to know what might harm

them not only in what concerns their body but also in what

might even remotely concern their soul.

For their sakes: Therefore, try to discover behind the human

silhouette of each of these baptized souls the Holy Trinity

dwelling within them and the likeness of Christ; do not rest

satisfied until all your training and education is directed to

make of them truly holy tabernacles of the Most High and

authentic continuations of Christ.

FROM THREE TO FIVE

AT THIS period of their life, children have not in general

arrived at an awakening, at least not a complete awakening,

of their moral sense. They are midway between the

unawareness of their first years and a completely rational

contact with life; their principal occupation is play--the little

boy will be busy building and tearing down; the little girl will

be busy scribbling away at indefinite designs or dressing and

undressing her sawdust doll, the first in a series of many

dolls.

They will have just the beginning of a contact--depending

upon their family, their mother particularly--with the

invisible world. They will learn their prayers, know that there

is a God who is good and they will hear about little Jesus.

They will also know that there are things that are forbidden,

but they will not as yet see the wickedness of sin; they take

what belongs to mamma without knowing that they are

stealing; they do not always tell the truth without knowing

really that it is an evil thing to lie and when they do speak

untruly it is much more through an instinct of self-defense

than through innate perversion. They would go to the end of

the world for a kiss and much further still for a piece of

candy. But if they must give up the piece of candy to a little

brother or sister, they will do it with not too bad a grace but

they will see to it that they get a lick of it themselves before

parting with it; after all, aren't they being quite generous

already? And if for Christmas mother has suggested that they

sacrifice some of their sweets to little Jesus, they do it

eagerly but see nothing wrong with coming back quietly later

to eat up their sacrifices.

It is important to capitalize on this marvelous period of the

child's life.

Since the child loves to imagine, it is necessary to suggest

images to its mind and since the child needs to be educated,

these images should be elevating. That can be done very

early by using the lives of the saints, the life of Mary and of

Jesus. Why not? How many details of Scripture are most

picturesque and quite within the grasp of the child's mind;

this is especially true if the Gospel episodes have first come

by way of the mother's heart; she will know how to awaken

without straining, instruct without fatiguing, and adapt it all

to the mentality of the child.

A prime guiding principle here is Never anything inexact!

Children at this age are extremely docile. "Papa said it or

Mamma said it," makes it sacred. Therefore, great attention to

the stories they are told, to the allusions made or the

conversations held in their presence.

At this age the child is inclined to refer everything to itself,

but very likely to be disinterested in goodness. By nature it is

selfish; it has a terrific sense of ownership; will share

nothing; wants everything. Since it has numerous needs and

knows itself to be little, it seeks to surround itself with the

greatest possible number of things to its own advantage. But

if little by little it is taught to look about to see that there are

others less privileged, that to give up things for love of

another is something fine, it will be found capable of

remarkable generosity.

The child at this age has not since the time of its baptism

become incrusted with the shell of negligence and the faults

an adult might commit; simplicity is inherent in it; it is pure;

it has infused Faith and the Holy Spirit in its soul is at ease.

But it is essential to avoid scandalizing the least of these

little ones, giving them the example of evil, of impurity even

material impurity, of lying, of anger.

Further, the child is readily distracted, forgetful, has its head

in the clouds. You speak to it and it listens or does not listen

as fancy strikes; it follows its own thought and interior

emotion. Your commands fall on its ears like water on

marble. You must catch its attention, reiterate your

suggestions or commands without impatience on your part or

fatigue for the child.

Constant attention is necessary to train them in manners, in

proper sleeping habits, in conduct at table; to check the first

symptoms of greediness, laziness, lack of discipline,

sensuality. The child is still thoughtless but the educator

must not be. Long explanations are not needed; a word,

simple look go a long way and speak volumes at times.

Parents should never lose courage even if the results are

imperfect. Let them examine their methods and change them

if necessary. Let them see in these little ones only Christ--

"Whatsoever you do to these, the least of My brethren, you do

unto Me."

THE ART OF GIVING CHILDREN FAULTS

THERE are two great means of developing faults in children:

First by giving them a bad example; second, by spoiling

them.

1. Giving them a bad example: All men are imitators; children

are more exposed than others to the appeal of imitation; they

love to imitate adults, and by preference those within their

immediate circle particularly their parents who appear to

them as exceptional beings in whom there is nothing

reprehensible.

Is the mother vain? The daughter too will be vain; she will

speak, act, dress, not for an ideal of beauty in keeping with

her condition, her station, but for the favorable opinion of

others. She will strive to surpass all her companions, her

friends, by the cut of her clothes and the extremes of style;

she will attach a considerable, yes even an exaggerated,

importance to the tiniest details of her costume; she will

suffer a severe attack of jealousy when she believes someone

outshines her.

Is the father proud? Does he try to exaggerate his good points

and belittle those of others or refuse to recognize them? His

son will be a snob, disdainful of others, self-sufficient,

pretentious, arrogant, obstinate and will manifest no

understanding whatever as far as others are concerned.

Are the parents loquacious? Contentious? Sharp in their

speech? Their children will be intemperate in speech,

quarrelsome, envious.

Are the parents deceitful? The children are in danger of

becoming liars. Are the parents generally indiscreet in

conversation, passing judgments thoughtlessly? The children

already too much inclined to judge everything from the

height of their grandeur will pass snap judgments, unjust and

untimely criticisms.

Do the parents manifest their love of ease, of wealth, even a

thirst to acquire riches by any means? The children are likely

to be selfish, attached to their own comfort, cheaters on

occasion.

2. Spoiling them: Some parents are too harsh and do not

encourage their children at all. Others, by far the greater

number, are too indulgent, flatter their children, satisfy all

their whims.

Parents who spoil their children do not seek their good, love

them for their sakes. No, it is a form of self-love; the parents

seek themselves in the child. Such parents cannot put

firmness into the education they try to give; they cannot

punish when necessary; prevent escapades; secure

obedience; they cannot defend themselves against any

caprices.

"But if I lack kindness," you say, "my child will withdraw from

me; in difficult times he will avoid speaking to me; I shall not

have his confidence. If on the contrary I have multiplied my

kindnesses to him, he will remain open, I shall keep a hold on

him."

There is no question here of failing in kindness; it is a

question of forbidding oneself any weakness. Far from having

to fear the loss of the child's confidence, if one is judiciously

firm, the parents shall win the child's confidence because

they are wisely strong. When the children understand that in

the marks of affection their parents bestow on them they are

not seeking something personal but only the good of their

children, they will be quick to realize that in the severity

their parents inflict on them, there is likewise no trace of

caprice but only the desire for their good as before.

It is precisely that realization which has educative force--this

contact with strong and detached souls.

THE UNTIMELY LAUGH

A FAMOUS French critic relates this incident about one of his

colleagues. "He was only five years old and he had committed

some misdemeanor. His mother who was busy painting put

him outside her studio as a penance and closed the door to

him. Through the closed door the little fellow using his most

earnest and pleading tone begged for pardon promising not

to be naughty again. His mother did not answer. He made so

much ado that she opened the door and on his knees he

crawled toward her, pleading with her as he came, in a voice

so earnest and an attitude so pathetic that by the time he

arrived before her, she could not refrain from laughing.

Immediately he stood up and changed his tone, 'So,' he cried,

'since you are making fun of me, I will never ask pardon

again.' And he never did."

To appear amused at an act of generosity on the part of a

child is the best way to make it lose forever a taste for

generosity. Beyond a doubt, the mother was not laughing at

the sentiment that stirred the soul of her child, but only at

his heroics in expressing it. But the child could not

distinguish. She laughed; therefore she laughed at him; if she

laughed at him, he must have seemed ridiculous; never again

would be put himself in a ridiculous attitude. His little

conscience is geometrical. His reasoning is utterly simple but

it is in keeping with his age.

Can anyone ever measure how much a poor child who has

done wrong has to overcome himself in order to ask pardon?

He blunders and then what happens? Can't you see? He is

wounded by the pain he gave his parents, tortured perhaps by

remorse, frightened by the prospect of punishment. His

request for pardon is expressed in sobs and long drawn out

breaths. But he is truly sorry. Born actor that he is, it is

possible that he might deliberately exaggerate the outward

manifestation of his repentence, but is it true? Most often the

child is honest and except where there is direct proof to the

contrary, his action is sincere, expressing exactly what he

feels.

How disconcerted he is then when his repentence is met in a

way he so little expected and so misunderstood. Sometimes

the child merely wants to confide a secret or in his simplicity

he asks a question without realizing its import or he

expresses an enthusiasm he hopes to have shared or a desire

to be generous that he longs to have approved, but if he sees

that no one listens to him or that his elders appear to smile at

his beautiful dreams or his requests for explanations, he

learns to close up like a clam; no one will ever know anything

more of his little soul; he will keep his thoughts secret and

will try to find for himself the answers to the troubling

questions that torment him.

There is another kind of ill-timed laugh, the laugh of parents

or others at the morally bad actions of a child.

In considering the behavior of children, careful distinction

must be made between two kinds of acts: those which have

no moral import such as skinning their knees in a fall while

running, soiling their clothing through inattention, turning

over an inkbottle through clumsiness, and those which do

have moral significance such as stealing, lying, disobedience

and lack of respect.

It sometimes happens that people are extremely severe and

make much ado over the acts in which no moral

responsibility is involved, but they joke or laugh at words

and acts that are morally wrong. Nothing so deforms the

consciences of children. They learn to consider as serious

acts those over which their elders have made a scene but

which actually are not serious at all; to consider as

insignificant those acts which made others smile but which

are morally quite serious.

All this means that as a parent, as an educator, I must be

watchful over my smiles and my laughter. I cannot be

inopportune in their use.

LOVE VERSUS MATERNAL INSTINCT

A MOTHER of a family, herself a noble and spiritual educator

wrote:

"We never succeed in making of our children all that we

should like to make of them; and sometimes we do not

accomplish anything of what we thought we could

accomplish. The role of educator in theory offers many

charms but in its fulfillment how many thorns! Not to become

discouraged is in itself quite an achievement."

The most important virtue to engender in the souls of

children is confidence.

Children always have faults; they develop with age; when one

fault is destroyed, another appears. What ought to be

developed first is confidence; a confidence which will make

them docile solely because of the conviction that there can

be nothing better for them than the arrangements of the

persons who are training them; but when they seem to

torment them or cross them, they truly have their good at

heart. The most agreeable training is not always the most

salutary. Far from it! Adversity and contradiction are useful

for all ages but particularly for the young, to correct their

violent tendencies and strengthen their undeveloped wills.

For those who consider everything from God's viewpoint,

adversity gives the final touch; it adorns as with gold one in

whom virtue is deeply rooted. But how can one call upon this

harsh instructor to teach one's very own children? Mothers

are too tender to be perfect educators or rather their

tenderness has about it too much sensitivity which, we might

say, aggravates the eternal conflict between the spiritual man

and the carnal man. Maternal love is often too much

hampered by maternal instinct which protests and prevents

the forceful action that ought to be taken.

This distinction between real maternal love in the full sense

of the word and maternal instinct should be maintained; the

author of the preceding lines is alert to the difference and

concerned about not confusing them; one of her daughters

had a particularly difficult temperament; the mother

encouraged herself to exercise the necessary firmness with

her just as with her other children:

I shall set myself the duty of not being weak, too easy, of not

giving in to all their desires. I shall try to give them the

reason for my decisions, but I shall believe that I do them a

service by putting some obstacles to their desires. Kindness

will dictate my conduct; I hope that kindness will render it

bearable for them.

If I fear the opposition of a strong character and the

tendencies of a spirit which promises to be frank and curious

in Laurence, I fear in her sister the faults arising from an

easier temperament which is avid for praise. Will she be able

to hold her own with the firmness I should like to see her

acquire? My God, I cannot foresee that; I place her interests

as I place my own into Your Hands.

That is the way to act: To try to adopt toward each child the

method most likely to succeed, and when that is done, to

trust the rest to Divine Providence.

TRAINING IN OBEDIENCE

THE father is the father; the mother is the mother. Each one's

role is different; together they must harmonize.

This is particularly essential when there is question of the

exercise of authority over the children.

The principal authority is centered in the father; the mother

who is associated with him, shares this authority. Both have

therefore according to their respective roles the mission to

command; the father in a way that is not more harsh but more

virile; the mother in a way that is not more easy-going--she

ought to demand the same things the father requires and with

the same firmness--but more gently expressed.

Parental action must be common, harmonious, coordinated,

directed to the same end. Extremely unpleasant conditions

are created if the mother for example tolerates an infraction

of an order given by the father.

The father on his part should avoid too great sternness, an

uncalled-for severity of tone or what is worse, cruelty. The

mother should guard against weakness and insufficient

resistance to the tears of the child or the cute little ways it

has discovered for avoiding punishment or side-tracking a

command.

She ought to be particularly cautious not to undermine

paternal authority either by permitting the children to

disobey his injunctions or, under pretext of tempering the

father's severity, by countermanding his orders. It is from the

father himself that she should secure the necessary

relaxation of requirements if she feels he is being too rigid;

never should she on her own change a decision that the

father has given. Otherwise the children will soon play the

father and mother against each other; they will know that

they can have recourse to mamma when papa commands

something and they will be able to disregard the order. Father

and mother both lose their authority in this way to their own

great detriment. The wife discredits her husband in the eyes

of the children and herself as well. Never should the children

sense the least discord between their parents either in regard

to their principles or their methods of training. Quick to

exploit the rift, they will also be quick to get the upper hand.

It is the ruination of obedience. The mother can blame

herself for working forcefully for its destruction.

She is perfectly justified in trying to make the execution of

the father's orders more agreeable; that is quite another

thing. But in this case she must justify the conduct of the

father and not seem to blame him by softening the verdict.

Husband and wife are but one; he, the strength; she, the

gentleness. The result is not an opposition of forces but a

conjoining of forces; the formation of a single collective

being, the couple.

Another point in this matter of obedience: Never let the

children command the parents. How many parents, mothers

especially, betray their mission! Parents are not supposed to

give orders indiscriminately but wisely; when they have done

this, they should not go back on a command. To command

little is the mark of firm authority; but to demand the

execution of what one has commanded is the mark of a strong

authority.

There should be no fussiness, no irritation, only calm

firmness. The child, who becomes unnerved, and certainly

not without cause, before a multiplicity of disconnected

orders that fall upon him from all sides, submits before a

gentle and unbending authority. Calmness steadies him and

unyielding firmness unfailingly leads him to obey.

CHILDREN WHO COMMAND

IF THE training of the children from babyhood has been well

done, there is the happy possibility that the parents can

really be masters in their own home later on. Not that they

need to exercise a fierce militarism; they should rather

inspire a holy and joyous liberty; but when they give a

command, the children must know that there is nothing for

them to do but obey.

They will give few commands, avoiding such perpetual

admonitions as "Stand up straight! Don't slouch! Do this.

Don't do that," which irritate children to a supreme degree,

weaken authority, and in time nullify the effect of any effort

to command. In the whirlwind of commands and prohibitions

in which they are caught, children can no longer distinguish

between important issues and details. Not having the

strength to observe all the directions they receive, they

decide quite practically to observe none except when a

painful punishment impresses them with the need to obey.

Although the parents should give few commands, they must

abide by what they have commanded and see it through. If

children note that it is easy for them to wear out the patience

of those who issue commands or prohibitions, and that

sooner or later they will have the victory, they will

unconsciously or even through a perversity that will always

increase, set about to manoeuvre more and more triumphs for

themselves.

"Leave that door handle alone!" Fine. The child hears the

command. A second later he is at the handle again. Again he

is told to leave it alone. The child resigns himself and for

some time does not go near the door. Will he make a third

attempt? Why not? After the second injunction mamma

generally says no more. As a matter of fact, he renews his

disobedience. Mamma lets it pass. She is conquered.

She will be conquered forever.

That is just one example of ten thousand where training falls

short.

But when children know that what is said goes, the temptation

to defy a command does not so readily come to them; or if

should it come and they yield, they know their parents will

not let their disobedience pass and that they will pay the

penalty; they know too that the punishment will be in

proportion to the offense, neither too little or too much but

exactly proportionate; they take it for granted.

Away with all fussiness however! Let children exercise some

initiative. How many parents forget that they were once

young and as a consequence what it means to be young.

In his book "My Children and I," Jerome criticizes in a

humorous fashion the exaggerated notions of some parents

who do not want to recognize the power for frankness in boys

and girls of twelve, fourteen or sixteen years. Veronica, one

of the young daughters of the home, finding that the

discipline of the house was too rigid protested with the

comment, "If grown-ups would be willing to listen, there are

many things we could explain to them."

She decided to write a book in which she would give parents

some wise advice. "All children will buy it," she said, "as a

birthday gift for their father and mother."

Veronica was doubtless somewhat presumptuous but not

stupid. People can learn at any age.

Even from their children.

Even when their youthful lessons are developed from

impertinence.

It is better, of course, not to need their lessons.

TRAINING IN DOCILITY

MANY parents complain that they can no longer get their

children to obey.

Is it the fault of the children? Is it not rather the fault of the

parents? A failure in obedience because of a failure in

authority?

To command requires as much abnegation as to obey. If a

person commands to satisfy his need of imposing himself on

others, to satisfy his vanity, to prove his power to himself, he

has missed the purpose of authority. Authority does not exist

for itself but for the good of subordinates.

Parents can go to the other extreme and let their children to

their whims and fancies in order to escape imposing any

inconvenience upon themselves, allowing everything to pass

and even refusing to forbid what they should forbid. That too

is a failure in their mission. To have authority is to have the

obligation to exercise it--according to the circumstances and

without exaggeration certainly--but it must be exercised and

not held in abeyance; that would be a betrayal of a trust.

Authority is to be exercised; to be exercised within the limits

of its control; that is its function. If through laziness or poor

judgment authority is not exercised or is badly exercised,

how can we be astonished that obedience is lost?

Authority supposes a soul at peace, a courageous soul,

dominated by a sense of duty, devoted to the interests of the

subject, free of capricious impulses and that sentimental

concept of love which is often found in mothers who confuse

tenderness with idolatry.

Parents and educators must arm themselves with courage to

dare to take a stand against the caprices of their child. They

must have keen judgment to know in which instances they

should command or refrain from commanding, to be able to

adapt the order to the capacity of the subjects, to be able to

understand the subjects' desires and satisfy them, to oppose

their whims, their impetuous desires and disordered

impulses.

In all this there must not be the shadow of oppression.

Parents should realize the children's need for distractions,

activity, learning, and loving. They ought to satisfy them in

everything that is legitimate. That will provide a generous

principle by which they can refuse them what is not

legitimate. In everything the parents should act with a

balanced mixture of gentleness and firmness.

Certainly they should not govern their children in a way that

suppresses their initiative. Their problem is not to develop

paragons of perfection, children who are exteriorly docile but

docile through passivity.

Parents should as often as possible insist that their children

make their own decisions, assume their little or great

responsibilities; but at the same time supervise and watch

over them unobtrusively; be ready to help them if need be

when they hesitate or arrive at imprudent decisions.

This implies that the parents strive less to develop a

satisfactory exterior behavior than to fashion in the child a

conscience that is exact and clear in the knowledge of its

duties; it is essential that when a child obeys he does so not

because of external constraint but through obedience to the

law of duty, to the inward law formulated in the depths of his

soul by God Himself.

The formation of the child's conscience is therefore

inseparable from his training in obedience. Let the child

know that he must obey only because he must above all obey

God; parents and educators are only the intermediaries of

God in his regard. Punishments which must follow

wrongdoing will never be for him the indication of his

parents' excitability or moods but always and only the

justification of a moral principle that has been violated.

INTELLIGENCE AND FIRMNESS IN A MOTHER

CAN the mothers who are real educators be counted by the

hundreds? Many see what ought to be done but do not have

the courage to require it or rather to impose it on themselves

to see it through. Others again have sufficient firmness of

character but lack keenness, insight, psychology.

Madame Marbeau whose son was to become bishop of Meaux

possessed the rare balance of intelligence and firmness.

One of the brothers of the future bishop had been naughty

and troublesome at school and was sent home by way of

punishment. At home he was obliged to recount his escapade.

The child was difficult and it was not his first offense.

Madame Marbeau marched him up to his room, closed the

door behind them, took a switch and ordered the boy to take

off his coat and a few more things. "My child," she said, "you

are dishonoring your name. I am going to whip you for it so

that you won't forget it. It grieves me to do so. I have a heart

ailment and could die of emotion . . . at least my death would

remind you not to offend God."

When her children were old enough to be able to take

responsibility, Madame Marbeau gave each of them a watch,

accompanying her gift with the wish "May all the hours of

your life to the very last, mark the good you do. May you

never have to blush for one of them."

She encouraged the older ones to offer sacrifices to bring

blessings on their future home, "Offer that up for the one

whom you will marry."

A mother ought to be willing to make her child shed tears if

that is the only way to instill a lesson which other means

have failed to inculcate.

Surely, the whole art of educating does not consist in the art

of being severe; some parents are too stern and they create a

depressing and disheartening atmosphere in the home; that is

the other extreme of indulgence. Exaggerated repression and

excessive weakness are both harmful. The one who must be

most watchful against excessive weakness is the mother, to

whom is attributed the quality of kindness as an almost

natural instinct and whose whole vocation is bound up in

kindness. In their early days the children will be tramping all

over her feet, but when they grow older they will trample on

her heart.

The child should be encouraged to the complete

accomplishment of his duty; nor should the parents take over

to spare him the necessity of effort; they should rather

stimulate him to furnish his own effort. He should be given a

taste for fundamental honesty very early in life, the

understanding that time is money advanced to us by God to

enable us to purchase not only our eternity but the grandeur

and beauty of our present life.

Then at the opportune time the child should be directed to

consider his future. After making of his present home an

invaluable training center, let the mother use the thought of

the future home he will establish as an incentive to needful

renunciation and self-denial. Should a son or daughter give

indications of a special attraction to the virginal state in a

consecrated life, with what care should the mother watch

over them. What a grace for the family if their dreams should

be realized! But such graces are bought! By the sacrifices of

the children. By the sacrifices of the parents above all, but

primarily of the mother.

These are not the only characteristics of a solid training but

they are important characteristics. Let me examine myself on

them. What judgment must I pass on myself?

PICTURE STUDY

MOTHER has gathered her little world around the table. She

has chosen a supply of beautiful pictures; there are all sorts

of them.

"Now suppose everyone keeps still. Look well at these

pictures and make your choice without telling it . . . Then in a

few minutes you may each tell me in your turn which one you

prefer. If you explain well why you prefer it you may have it

to keep for yourself. All right, let's start. Is everyone here?

Take time to think carefully. When you have all made your

choice we shall begin to speak."

Soon little hands were busy fingering the pictures; indecision

was evident on the children's faces. Finally their choices

seemed to be settled.

"Very well, Peter, you begin."

Peter had been attracted by a troop of soldiers marching

behind the red, white and blue:

"Because it has the flag of my country," he said.

What a beautiful lesson to develop, the lesson of patriotism, a

lesson in humanity. Why should we love the world; why too

should we prefer our own country? We should prefer it to the

point of defending it if it is unjustly attacked. What is a just

war, an unjust war? Is it sometimes permissible to kill? What

is the duty of the leaders in war? Why should we salute the

flag?

And all listen to the simple lesson so marvelously and

expertly explained drawing great profit from it. A true course

it is in philosophy, civics, international ethics, and will-

training.

Little Louise decided on a picture of a beautiful baby by

Reynolds, a pink, chubby baby with curly hair. She gives her

reason in a tone of voice that reveals her budding maternal

instinct, "I want it because it looks like my little brother."

And Mother seizes her opportunity to explain the mother's

role, her joys, her difficulties, her responsibilities.

Jeanne, a robust girl, not blessed with much imagination

shows great admiration for a very ordinary postcard

representing two children in the country, standing before a

rustic home at an outdoor fireplace roasting potatoes and

chestnuts . . . She chose it because "it shows what we do on

vacation when we have no more homework to do."

This brings forth a little homily on energy at work, coupled

with praise for the honesty of the child; the motive of choice

alone is blamed as indicative of no great zeal for study.

Paul, whose stuffed pockets seem to contain a whole

workshop--string, broken springs, rubber bands and other

odds and ends has been waiting a long time to explain his

choice: "I like this airplane which is going to take off; see the

pilot has put on his cap; he is going to take two passengers. I

want to be a pilot when I get big . . ."

How many correct ideas to develop, enlarge and enrich; how

many inferior sentiments to uplift; how many social

principles to instill according to the capacity of these little

minds and consciences so newly formed; how many futures

to map out and how many vistas to open up.

There is nothing austere or forbidding here. It is life

presented in beautiful simplicity. All the mother's

explanations are within the children's grasp, but how richly

instructive and informative! They had so much fun. And they

learned so much.

IMPARTIALITY

ONE great principle of education that is of prime importance

is that there must not be two systems of weights and two

systems of measures in the family; it is necessary to treat all

the children impartially.

The celebrated Carmelite, Mary of Agreda, whom Phillip IV of

Spain did not hesitate to take as his confidante and advisor in

matters of state and the government of men because of her

spiritual insight and virtue, wrote the following advice to him

on October 13, 1643 after she realized, either through

spiritual lights or human reports, that he was inclined to

yield to the ascendancy of a certain individual in his court:

"It would be better to put all (your counsellors) on the same

level by listening to all of them so that each one believes

himself to be your favorite without Your Majesty's according

more to one than to the other. Thus God has placed the heart

in the center of the body that it may vivify and stimulate all

the members equally; the same sun lights us all without any

distinctions."

This rule which Mary of Agreda gave Phillip IV for the

government of Spain is very valuable within the family.

One or other of the children must not get the idea he is

preferred; he will be tempted to abuse the situation. Above

all, the other children must have no cause to believe that one

of the members of the family is the object of special

predilection.

All ought to believe that they are, each of them individually,

the privileged one; and that because actually and not as a

pretense the father and mother make no distinctions of

person but give to all their maximum love.

If any exception must be made let it be for that one who is

least gifted, the most sickly, who has the least defense. In

such a case only will the other children pardon partiality.

Generally, however, such advice need not be given to

mothers. As Bishop Dupanloup explains, maternal love is so

wide and deep that there is in it an innate and magnificent

contradiction.

If her child is beautiful, richly endowed, how the mother

cherishes it! If on the contrary, her child is puny, deformed

by nature, she has treasures of affection for it such as she

has for no other.

Here is the beautiful passage. It is taken from a volume which

has not gone out of date; how many married people and

parents could profit greatly by reading it and meditating on

it: The name of the book is "Letters of Direction on Christian

Life" and the particular sections referred to now are the

passages on Marriage, Motherhood and Conjugal Fidelity:

"Maternal love possesses two contrary impulses which are

characteristic of it. We could not measure either of them, nor

could we pass them by in silence.

The mother loves her fortunate child, the handsome child,

the prosperous child, for its happiness, its beauty, its

prosperity; there is in this a just pride which belongs to

maternal love and does not sully it. At the same time, the

mother loves her child who suffers, who is listless, who is

deformed because of its suffering, its languor, its deformity;

and her love goes to terrifying extremes.

One must see a mother looking at her infirm and deformed

child . . . It is as if she wants to fill up all the voids of that

being, that she wants to enclose it within herself so that

curious and unkind looks cannot reach it.

If she has a wayward child, it is this one she loves in spite of

herself; if she has a sick child, it is toward that one she

directs all her concern, and on the contrary should her child

be a hero . . . how happy she is!

DIFFICULTIES OF CHRISTIAN EDUCATION

IN ORDER to make a true Christian of a child, four difficulties

must be conquered:

1. The child himself.--He is light-minded, superficial,

completely exterior. The invisible world seems unreal to him.

Doubtless, the infused faith received at baptism gives him a

kind of aptitude for perceiving divine realities; and the

educator will not fail to utilize and develop this aptitude. It

still remains true that the child for whom the world of images

alone has value is in grave danger of progressively losing

interest in the Kingdom of God to give more and more

attention to what Our Lord calls all these other things.

Furthermore, he is on the threshold of life and that life is the

present life; he feels strong; death is far away. His very

existence appears to him as something almost eternal. He

dreams of marriage, thinks of a career and is immersed in

distractions. He thinks very little about his soul if he thinks

of it at all.

2. The family circle.--The family encircles the child with a

certain general atmosphere of ease, of comfort, of

forgetfulness of the essential. The practice of Christianity

within the family may be very weak; there may be a complete

absence of good example. An exaggerated liberty in regard to

reading may prevail; the newspapers and magazines brought

into the family are perhaps most unchristian, utterly pagan in

tone. And as for the religious observance of Sunday, it is

reduced to a minimum and that minimum is merely routine.

True piety is definitely lacking; so too is any semblance of

regularity in rising and retiring; a shameless preoccupation

with frivolities crowds out everything else. The development

of a spirit of sacrifice and the formation of a religious spirit

receives scarcely any attention.

3. Schools.--Let us consider only those schools in which

religion is recognized. To whom is the religious instruction

confided? How well is education to the supernatural

safeguarded? Even in institutions where exercises of piety are

held in esteem, is sufficient effort made to combat routine, to

avoid blind imitation and to vivify religious practices? Is

sufficient care taken to explain doctrine thoroughly? Is not a

great deal of precious time lost in problems of apologetics

while the children have very little acquaintance with the

substantial realities of the deposit of faith? Is the teaching of

Catechism carefully centered about the dogma of Grace and

of Incorporation in Christ? Are the truths of faith made to live

by being presented in relation to modern life, adapted to the

needs of the young people and the needs of the time?

4. The general easygoing attitude of society.--Father Gratry

used to say that young people had difficulty escaping the two

trials that their social environment imposes--the trial of fire

and the trial of light.

--The trial of fire. By that Father Gratry meant the test of

pleasure, the test of the senses. The great means of

information are sometimes transformed into means of

corruption. Reading, unbridled freedom, certain types of

amusement finish the destruction. The world ridicules the

chaste; materialism at times gross, at times refined, threatens

to penetrate all of life especially now that the constraints of

the war have been lifted.

--The test of light. This, Father Gratry explains, is contact

with pagan mentalities, with philosophies of scepticism and

agnosticism as noisy as they are baseless but none the less

alluring in an age of independence and awakening passions.

All these conditions point to the importance of a virile

training of the individual from childhood; the need of a

healthy and uplifting family life; the value of a solid

intellectual formation that is thoroughly Christian; the

necessity of a purification of the general atmosphere.

The children of today have been compared to "an invasion of

little barbarians." We must civilize these barbarians if we

want to prevent the arrival of barbarism or a return to

barbarism.

SUPERNATURAL MOTHERS

CHESTERTON expressed himself as well satisfied that

education is entirely confided to women until that time when

to educate becomes entirely useless--for, "a child is not sent

to school to be instructed until it is too late to teach him

anything."

In other words, education depends on the training given

during baby days and early childhood and such training is

the concern of women. That is a certain fact. It is also a

serious fact. Because at once there arises the problem: Are all

mothers charged with educating their children capable of it?

Some women excel in child-training. And often they are

equally successful in handling their children once they are

grown.

How solicitously these mothers watch over their children

even in their babyhood not only in concern for their bodily

good but for their soul as well, warding off from them

whatever could be a source of trouble later. With what love of

God they profit by their babies' first glimmerings of reason to

teach them how to fold their hands in prayer and lift their

hearts to God. How zealously they prepare them for their First

Holy Communion, speaking to them of the marvels of the

Eucharist, encouraging them to generosity and love of Jesus

Crucified.

Without any thought of self, but with joyful and supernatural

austerity, they teach their children to make sacrifices, to

think of others; with what divinely inspired skill they show

them the immense needs of the world, make them think of

little pagan children who have no Christian mother or father

or brothers or sisters who have been baptized.

"Children are serious-minded, and to keep a childlike soul

means precisely to continue to look at life with a serious

attitude," says Joergensen. Mothers with a supernatural spirit,

whether they have read Joergensen or not, seem to use this

idea as a guiding principle and by it help their children to

preserve while growing up, the juvenile depth of their serious

outlook on life.

Even when their children are grown, how they help them to

develop this serious attitude and protect them from losing it

or submerging it in an atmosphere of worldliness and

frivolity! How earnestly they try to give their children true

Christianity grounded much more in love than in fear; they

do not constantly terrify them with the idea of sin; they lead

them even more by example than by word, to look upon God

as a God of mercy and not as a sort of "super-parent who is

always dissatisfied, severe, angry, ready to forbid and to

punish."

Living a life of divine familiarity themselves, these mothers

have learned the great mystery of "God nearby," of God

residing in the depths of the soul in grace, a God whose

dearest wish is to draw us into closer intimacy with Himself.

It has been said that "there are two ways of giving the

consciences of children an intense sense of the privation of

God"; either by default, by never putting them in His

presence; or by excess, by putting them in His presence in

such a way that He becomes a nightmare to them from which

they flee as soon as they realize that the whirl of life helps

them not to think of Him."

Supernatural-minded mothers would never fail in the second

way. If their grown boys and girls remain in the state of

grace, it is through a holy pride, an interior joy, the result of

having been impregnated early in life with the conviction of

God's nearness, with the determination to remain forever

living tabernacles of the Trinity, other Christs.

Honor to these mothers, true educators!

EDUCATION TO THE SUPERNATURAL (1)

THIS does not mean education to piety. In Christian families

this is properly provided for: The children are taught their

prayers, how to go to Confession, how to prepare for Holy

Communion, how to assist at Holy Mass and other church

services, how to say the rosary. All this is fine, but perhaps it

is not the essential!

The important thing is to teach the child who he is, who God

is, and how God wants to mingle His life with his by coming

to dwell in him. consecrating him thereby as a living

tabernacle of the Most High. When the child knows all this

not merely as bookish knowledge but as knowledge lived out

and often recalled, exercised by his faith and his young good

will, then and then only, will there be a solid foundation on

which to build religious instruction, to justify and demand

exercises of piety. It is absolutely essential that before all

else the child be informed of the divine riches which his

baptism brought him. It must be explained to him that the

day he was carried as a little baby to be received into the

Church, God came to take possession of his soul.

He should be taught that when people come into the world

they do not possess this divine life. God gave it to Adam and

Eve in the beginning but they lost it. Right here is a splendid

opportunity to explain the greatness and goodness of God,

the marvel of our supernatural life, how God created man

greater than nature, how He wanted to make all of us His

children. The little one knows well what a father is. Explain to

him that God is our Father in order to give him what is

essential in all true piety, a filial spirit and an understanding

of how true it is to call God, Good.

The story of creation fascinates children; so too does the

story of Adam and Eve and the Fall. What a lesson for the

child is the example of the terrible punishment incurred by

disobedience! . . . The divine life is lost! But God still loves

His poor human creatures just as mamma and papa continue

to love their child after he has done wrong. And what is God

going to do to give back this lost supernatural life? When one

commits a fault, he must make up for it to obtain pardon.

Who can make up for such a fault? God asks His own Son to

do it. His Son will come down to earth. And then follows the

beautiful story of the Christmas Crib and the timely

application of these truths: How we should pity those who do

evil and if we can, help them get out of their misery, their

bodily and spiritual wretchedness!

Not only will Jesus live upon earth with us but He will die for

us after living more than thirty years over in a little country

where we can find many souvenirs of His stay--the little town

of His birth, the workshop of His foster-father, that noble

carpenter named Joseph, the villages that heard Him preach

to all, and especially to children, on how to get to heaven, the

place of His death upon the Cross, that place of suffering

where Mary His Mother stood beneath His instrument of

torture . . . All that, all that so that John, Paul, James, Henry,

Peter, Louise, Camille, Leonie, Germaine may be even while

they are still on earth, little--and yes very great--living

tabernacles of God who is Goodness itself; so that later in

heaven they may be with the God of their hearts forever.

Religious instruction is not sufficiently centered; it is not

centered about the central mystery of Catholicism. Even the

catechism with its divisions of Dogma, Morals and the

Sacraments--divisions that are perfectly logical and

understandable but more adapted to theological authors than

to the souls of children--can, if we are not careful, make one

forget the beautiful wholeness of Christianity which is

superbly majestic in its architectural lines, clear, and pulsing

with life.

EDUCATION TO THE SUPERNATURAL (2)

IT IS clear that everything centers about the dogma of grace

and our supernatural elevation. The best way to develop this

idea with the child is to use the technique of an object lesson

and explain the rites and ceremonies of baptism to him. That

will be a little drama in which he has been the hero, and

consequently, it will hold tremendous interest for him. It is

something about himself, it is his own story he hears; he will

be delighted.

Describe the ceremonies graphically for the little one. As

soon as feasible, take him to church. Before showing him the

tabernacle, the Eucharistic dwelling, take him to the

baptismal font: Here is where you became a living tabernacle

of God. At the words of the priest, "Go out of this child,

unclean spirit; give place to the Holy Spirit," the devil was

forced to leave you, because of the power Our Lord gave to

His priests. Then the Holy Spirit came to dwell in you. And

since the Holy Spirit is one with the Father and the Son, God

in His fulness came to dwell from then on in your heart--yes,

there are three Persons, but there is just the same but one

God; there are five fingers but they make only one hand--and

that one God in all three Persons dwells in you.

God does not have to use an airplane like the one you saw

landing from its flight the other day, but He does come down

from heaven to dwell in your soul; He came into each of us,

Papa, Mamma and in you, in Henry and James and Pauline, in

Genevieve and little Louise. He comes on His own without

anyone else sending Him and His coming is very real. Besides

all this, His dwelling in all of us does not keep Him from

continuing to dwell in heaven, too. He is all-powerful; it

causes Him no difficulty to be at several places at once. If He

who exercises His power everywhere, comes especially into

the souls of the baptized, it is to dwell there in a dwelling of

love. When your godmother or your grandfather come to

spend a few years at your house, how happy you are! It is to

give you pleasure that they come; and they bring with them

goodies and lovely presents.... God does the same thing when

He comes to stay in you--He brings presents with Him; we call

these gifts graces; that means favors, gifts He is not obliged

to give but which He gives just because He is so good. Good,

did we say? Extraordinarily good! Much kinder than

godmother or grandpa; kinder even than Papa or Mamma. He

is the One who made the kindness and goodness of fathers

and mothers and of all good people on the earth. Think how

much greater is God's goodness since He possesses all this

goodness put together and a great deal more besides!

But then if God is like that, how ought James and Joseph and

Henry and Isabelle and Louise and Madeline behave

themselves? Well, first of all, they should never do anything

that would chase God from their souls; to do that is what we

call mortal sin; mortal, because it forces God to leave just as

if it killed Him. God cannot die, but it is just as if the person

would say to Him, "I don't want anything more to do with You;

if I could do away with You, I would do so!" That is why

mortal sin is such a vile thing.

And it is not enough for you to keep from driving God out of

your soul; no, there in the depths of your heart, you should

try to keep Him company. Don't you think so? How sad that

would be if He would be there within your soul and you would

not pay any attention to Him, and seem to attach no

importance at all to His Presence. That would not be very

nice. You ought to visit Him there within your soul, in the

morning, in the evening and often during the day; speak to

Him; tell Him that you love Him very much. He who loves as a

real Christian, a truly baptized soul, keeps God company

since God is with him all the time.

EDUCATION TO THE SUPERNATURAL (3)

SINCE God is always present in the soul of the baptized

person--provided that person has not driven Him away

through mortal sin--with what respect should he treat not

only his soul but also his body!

Mothers always dress their little ones in a beautiful white

dress for their baptism. This is to show that later they ought

never cover their souls with stains of sin. If muddy spots on

lovely white material is ugly, how much uglier are sin stains

on the soul!

That is also why the priest after bringing God into the soul of

the tiny baby by saying as he pours the water, "I baptize thee

in the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy

Spirit," hastens to add the injunction, "Receive this white

garment and carry it undefiled to the Throne of God." The

whiteness of the garment symbolizes the purity of the soul.

When we have to appear before God at the end of our lives,

what will He ask us? "Have you been faithful? Have you

always respected the beautiful virtue of purity? Or is your

soul stained by sin? Have you committed sins? Mortal sins?

At the moment death struck you down, did you have God in

your heart or had you driven Him away as if you wanted

nothing more to do with Him?

"You drove Him away? Ah, well, since that is how it is, I want

no more to do with you: I too will drive you away, begone!"

It is just as a father might call before him his child who had

insulted him or tried to kill him; he would say, "I no longer

look upon you as my son. You are not worthy to remain in the

house. Get out! I will never speak to you again, I will never

love you again!"

How dreadful to be driven away by God because we tried to

kill Him with sin in our soul; because we tried to drive Him

away . . . to drive Him, God who is so good, from our heart!

We must indeed pray that such a thing never happens!

If we want to die without stain of sin upon our soul, we must

live without staining our soul by such ugly defilements. Now

since God dwells within our soul and since our soul is

enclosed within our body, then we must also keep our body

pure. We must never use it to commit sin. We should always

look upon it as a kind of church in which God dwells. What

would we say of naughty boys who would throw pebbles into

the window of the parish church or mud from the street on

the decorations or the altar inside? It would be an insult

hurled at Jesus who stays there in the tabernacle so that we

can go to Him to tell Him that we love Him and that we are

happy to be with Him.

A little baptized child is like a church, but a living church.

Jesus and the Child

How should we introduce Jesus into the life of the little one?

Marie Fargues, a one-time educator, suggests the following

psychological procedure: "You love Jesus very much, don't

you?" the mother asks the little one in a tone of voice that

calls forth a fervent "yes." Mamma must love Jesus to speak

as she does. Therefore, Baby loves Him, too, and he wants to

show it. He will clutch the picture of Jesus that the mother

holds out to him, and kiss it with much ado. A statuette, a

crucifix, a medal--these objects offer no direct interest to the

child other than their polish or their color; mamma's face is

certainly softer and more pleasing. But if one is to embrace,

there must be something to embrace; and how can one show

that one loves without embracing. That is the sole reason of

existence for the statuette, the picture, or the medal of Christ

as far as the baby is concerned. People don't embrace just

anything, like papa's paper or the sugar bowl; these things

have other uses. But the things that are connected with the

Name of Jesus, these things one kisses for love of Jesus.

But Who is Jesus?

Who is Jesus? A baby does not ask that question. Jesus is a

fact, like papa or mamma. And the little one is not in the least

disturbed about giving the same name to quite different

objects, a medal, a picture, or a crucifix. For, in the

beginning, the picture, the medal, or the crucifix, is Jesus. It

will take time for the little one to understand that these

things are merely representations of Jesus.

Little by little, the child will begin to distinguish the person

from the representation and will begin to build up a more

correct concept: Jesus is at one and the same time, the One

who is represented on the medal, the One who lives in the

tabernacle, the One who is on the crucifix, the One who is on

the picture, the One who lives in the church, and the One who

is in mamma's heart after she goes to Holy Communion.

From then on, the clarification can be continued by helpful

statements or questions: "Yes, Jesus is here," or "Jesus did

that" or, if we are in church, "Where is Jesus?" At Christmas

time when the little one pulls on mother's sleeve, insisting, "I

want to go over and see little Jesus in the pretty crib," a

splendid opportunity presents itself to explain the difference

between the figure of Jesus in the crib and Jesus present in

the tabernacle.

The transfer from the concept of Jesus to that of God is

evidently a delicate step. The mother has told the child that

God is everywhere, sees everything, but that He has no body.

Now Jesus has a body. All that is not very clear to the child.

Little by little, it will become so.

God is at one and the same time, the Father, Son and Holy

Spirit. There is God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy

Ghost and they have existed from all eternity. It is the Son,

however, who became Jesus when the Blessed Virgin gave

Him a body, and He walked among men on earth.

Thus the little one through acquaintance with Jesus rises to

knowledge of God. That God should have become man, is not

at all astonishing to the child, and still less astonishing is it

to him that Jesus had a mother.

Thus, bit by bit, things are seen in their proper relation.

There cannot be complete clarity all at once. However, by

means of successive bits of information, and above all by

successive attempts at prayer, the little one enters into

contact with Jesus; this contact is more of the heart than of

the mind.

Historical and doctrinal ideas will be added later to complete

the child's concept. Even at this early age he has become

acquainted with the Triune God and the Incarnation. The

cross, too, has been revealed to him. It is a delight for the

child to hear the story of Jesus' life, and, in the retelling how

many ideas can be given, how much curiosity satisfied, how

many lessons taught!

Since Jesus loves children so much--and we know that He

does from the gospel story of Jesus blessing the little ones--

since He has loved people so much and done so much for

them, should not little John, or Lucy, or Alice, love Jesus, too,

with all their heart; should they not learn from Him how to

make a generous sacrifice when the opportunity presents

itself?

THE FATHER WHO DOESN'T PRAY

LITTLE Paul who is only four-and-a-half years old, is kneeling

beside his bed saying his night prayers; they seem to be very

long.

"Haven't you finished your prayers?" asks his nurse.

"Yes," answers the child slightly embarrassed.

"Well, then, what are you doing now?"

The child blushes and murmurs timidly, "I say two of them

every night--my own and papa's. I heard him refuse mamma

when she asked him to say his prayers; so now I am doing it

for him."

Precocious, would you say? Maybe so. But have children not

often startled us with their penetration?

How foolish are those parents who believe they can fail in

logic before their children! How little do they know of the

workings of those little minds and those little hearts! How

little do they know how these little ones can put to use what

they hear!

Lady Baker, a convert, writes in her book "The House of Light"

that when she was a child of about eleven years, she

overheard a conversation between her father and her mother

on the subject of religion. The father was saying, "I heard a

good sermon today; it pointed out how the Reform was a great

mistake and that England would have been much better off

without it...."

"Be still," interrupted his wife in a scandalized tone, "be

careful before the children."

"I was sent off to my studies," continues Lady Baker, "and I

heard no more of the conversation; but I took to dreaming

over these strange words."

That very evening while taking a walk with the maid, she

asked to visit a Catholic church. From that date, she says,

there was born in her the desire to study the beginnings of

the pretended Reform and to change her religion later should

this study prove that what her father had said was true.

It may be that I have not lost the habit of prayer, thanks to

God's grace, but it could easily be that I do not let my

children see me praying often enough. To pray, and to let

one's children see that one prays, are two different things. It

is not enough to pray as an individual only. My duty as head

of the family is to pray in the name of the family, in the sight

of the family, and with the family. My boys must know that

their father honors God; they must see that he conducts

himself respectfully before Him; they must learn from his

example the great duty of adoration and worship. Prayer, at

least evening prayer, should be said in common.

In many families where all gather together at the end of the

day to honor God, it is the mother who leads the prayer until

the time comes when each child will be able to take a turn. It

would be much better if the father would take the lead. It is

the function which belongs to him, a function which is almost

priestly in character.

Should it ever happen that I have occasion to pass

unfavorable judgment on a churchman, or on some religious

incident--although it could seldom happen that such an

action would be my right--I must take care as to who is

listening. Children don't miss anything . . . let me give that

some thought.

TABLE PRAYERS

A CELEBRATED economist, LePlay, wrote "Until I can say grace

at meals without astonishing any of my guests, I will not

believe that I have done enough for the return of good

habits." Grace at meals seems to be a simple detail. Are we

not perhaps attaching too much significance to it?

Consider it a detail, if you wish, but it is a detail which proves

much. Rene Bazin relates how edified he was while visiting in

the north of France as a preparatory study for one of his

novels, to observe how the family of an industrialist, in

Roubaix, had said grace faithfully before meals, assigning

each child a day to lead.

Another author relates the profound impression made on him

by his visit to the home of an outstanding businessman in

Antwerp. Before and after dinner, the eight children stood

with their parents around the table while the father devoutly

recited the meal prayers.

Where the practice of saying grace is found in a family, there

is also found true family life blessed with children and with

solid piety; there will be no selfishness; instead there will be

found a love for tradition, respect for authority, and an

undisputed reign of Christ over the home. The saying of

grace may be a small thing, but it is an indication of great

things.

The Christian family will not be restored, nor will it be

maintained, without the restoration and the maintenance of

Christian practices--the noblest practices surely, and the

most obligatory, but likewise the most insignificant in

appearance. However, are there any which are truly

insignificant?--

--But these things will embarrass our visitors.

--Nothing forces them to pay you a visit, and if they want to

do it, they undoubtedly respect the customs of the house, the

crucifix on the wall as well as the tint of the wall, the normal

acts of Christian life as well as the menus prepared for them.

No one is obliging them to adopt your conduct, but they can

at least accept it while they are with you.

The real motive, if you are truly honest, is not charity for

others, but human respect and a concern for yourself. You

are afraid; you do not dare.

Your visitors will be either Christian or non-Christian. Why

among Christians should one blush because of Christ? If the

guests are not Christians, will they be astonished at Christian

acts, knowing the atmosphere of the home and the character

of those who dwell in it?

In addition to grace at meals, another beautiful Christian

custom for the home is the evening blessing given by the

father to all the children: As each child comes to give him a

good-night kiss, the father lays his hand upon his head or

traces a little cross upon his forehead. What an advantage for

the children who see in their father a quasi-religious--as they

really should be able to do. What an advantage for the father

who will as a consequence be more conscious of his office.

Imagine what his thoughts must be as he blesses his children

in the evening if, during the day, he has done something for

which his conscience reproaches him!

"We shall make our brethren Christians again," sing the Young

Catholic Workers. "We shall make homes Christian again,"

should be the song of married Christians. To do that, they

must begin with their own.

CHILDREN AND CHRISTMAS

IT IS easy to understand how enraptured children can become

at the contemplation of a tiny Babe in a manger. To have God

reduce Himself to their own status, to become a child like

them, to need a mother, what more could they desire! They

feel on a footing with Him. The Almighty is of their stature!

We are told that on Christmas Eve, Saint John of the Cross

used to carry a statue of the Infant Jesus in procession about

the monastery. The procession would stop before each

monk's cell asking hospitality for the Divine Babe. The cells,

like the hearts of the monks, would open to faith and to love.

Only then would the statue be carried to the Crib and the

Divine Office begin.

Children share the simplicity of these holy monks. Nothing

attracts them more than the Crib.

This very attraction makes it imperative that they learn about

it correctly.

Care must be taken not to mix in with the gospel mystery any

details which the child will later come to recognize as false.

What good can come of representing Santa Claus almost as

God the Father who has given us His Son? Why let children

believe that it is the Infant Jesus Himself who comes down

the chimney to bring them presents . . . only to hear some

day, "You know, mamma, this is the last time I'm going to

believe in Little Jesus who comes down the chimney with

presents."

If we mix the false with the true, it is no wonder the child will

not be able to separate legend from doctrine later on. The

Gospel is sufficiently extraordinary in itself without our

adding any of our own creations to it. If we do, we may well

fear the child will become disgusted later at being deceived

and reject everything.

Any charming legend or pious little story we may want to tell

them when they are very little should be kept quite distinct

and handled very differently from the dogmatic truths and

authentic historical facts we teach them. Let us not introduce

fairies into the story of Jeanne of Arc's childhood, nor put the

legend of Saint Nicholas rescuing little children on a level

with the realities of the Redemption, with the facts of Our

Lord's saving us from hell.

If, therefore, we are to capitalize on the child's attraction for

the marvelous, let us avoid abusing his credulity; above all

when dealing with the lives of the saints, with the Blessed

Virgin and with Christ, let us not mix the false with the true.

Let us always keep on a plane apart those truths which are to

be forever the object of ineradicable belief.

There is, however, a positive suggestion to offer: Explain to

the child how Baptism has made him a living Crib; not a

wooden manger padded with straw, but a living Crib; not a

crib where only little Jesus lives but a Crib where the Three

Persons of the Holy Trinity dwell, the Three Divine Persons.

Here, too, is splendid opportunity to show the child the

difference between the two presences--the presence of God in

the soul through grace and the presence of Jesus in the stable

through the Incarnation.

EUCHARISTIC EDUCATION (1)

A FATHER wrote the following incident to a friend:

"You are acquainted with my little boy. The other day his

sister who is fifteen asked him, 'Bernard, what is the

difference between Holy Communion and blessed bread?'

That could have been a stickler for a little fellow only six-

and-a-half. 'Oh,' he answered quickly, 'they are not at all

alike. Blessed bread is just bread and Holy Communion is our

good Jesus.' The child has never had formal catechism

lessons, but he has observed about him the practice of

Christian life; he has heard his mother tell him upon

returning from church that she had received Holy

Communion; that is all."

However the child acquired his correct ideas, it is evident

that with a knowledge of this kind he is ready to make his

First Holy Communion.

The Church requires the child to know the difference between

the Blessed Eucharist and ordinary bread. Relative to this

point the bishops of Belgium state in their "Practical

Instructions" that "the child has sufficient knowledge and has

met requirements if he knows according to his capacity that

in the Eucharistic Bread there is the true living Body of Jesus

Christ with His soul and His divinity, glorious as He is in

heaven."

By way of supplementary explanation the Instructions add:

"It suffices to have him know that Jesus Christ died for us

upon the Cross before ascending to heaven; that He wanted to

remain among us in the Host in the tabernacle; that He

deigned to make Himself the food of our souls; that it is the

priest who changes the bread and wine into the Body and

Blood of Our Lord Jesus Christ when he pronounces the words

of Consecration during Mass and that from this moment on

the Host is no longer bread but it has become the living Body

of Jesus Christ; that Jesus is hidden in this Host; that when

one receives Holy Communion he receives God into his heart

and that, therefore, he must before receiving cleanse his soul

from all stain of sin."

Moreover, the Instructions further observe that in addition to

the knowledge of the Eucharist as already described, the

child ought to know and understand to the best of his ability:

That he has been created by God;

That this God, the Creator and Sovereign Master of all things

is One only God;

That there are Three Persons in God: the Father, the Son, the

Holy Spirit;

That the second Person became Man for us, suffered and died

upon the Cross to save us;

That the person who with the grace of Jesus Christ does good

by observing the law of God will be rewarded by God in

heaven;

While the person who does evil by disobeying the law of God

and who dies in the state of mortal sin will be deprived of the

vision of God in heaven and will be punished eternally in

hell.

It is important to note the stress laid upon the two phrases,

according to his capacity and to the best of his ability.

The Church does not demand a profound knowledge; she

requires only a knowledge proportionate to the age of the

child. It is not necessary for him to know bookish formulas

by heart; nor is it sufficient for him to learn by heart

explanations which he recites like a parrot. The child should

understand--according to his capacity, yes--but he should

truly understand.

EUCHARISTIC EDUCATION ( 2 )

BESIDES the knowledge of the truths of faith which the child

should have according to his age and intelligence, the Church

requires of him the desire to approach God in the Eucharist

before admitting him to his First Holy Communion. Diocesan

statutes state:

"It is essential that, knowing the infinite love which brings

our Divine Savior to him and the desire Our Lord has to give

Himself and to unite Himself with him in Holy Communion,

the child should on his part desire to approach Jesus and give

evidence of his veneration and his love for Him."

This sufficient devotion supposes:

"The pious recitation of the prayers essential for the

Christian: The Our Father, the Hail Mary, the Apostles' Creed,

the Acts of Faith, Hope, Charity and of Contrition and

dispositions of reverence toward the Holy Eucharist."

At what age can these conditions be realized?

Canon Law avoids setting a mathematical age. It states:

"All the faithful of either sex who have attained the age of

discretion, that is to say, the age of reason, ought to receive

the Sacrament of the Holy Eucharist at least once a year,

during the Easter season, unless on the advice of his own

confessor and for a reasonable cause he be justified in

differing for the time being from the accomplishment of this

precept." (Canon 859)

We can readily understand that because of differences in

intelligence, receptivity of soul, educational environment,

and the catechetical instruction obtainable the age required

for First Holy Communion can vary. It is up to those charged

with the spiritual care of the child to determine whether he

has attained the correct age. Children attain it sooner than we

might think in many cases.

If parents want to stimulate a desire for Holy Communion in

their child, is it not evident that they themselves must have

an ardent hunger for It? A mother who seldom receives Holy

Communion will hardly be able to instill in her little ones a

desire to receive Jesus. Should she none the less succeed in

imparting to them a burning desire for Holy Communion, how

will she then prevent their astonishment at her own lack of

eagerness to communicate? What is good for the children is

good for mamma, too, isn't it?

All things considered, is it not also true that what holds for

the mother holds equally for the father?

Certainly there may at times be sufficiently justifiable

reasons why papa and mamma cannot receive Holy

Communion so often as their children and the reasons can be

given to the children. However, it is well to remember that a

child uses admirable logic. He will not accept as a precious

treasure something which no one around him appears to

appreciate.

Further there is nothing that so convinces and draws him as

example.

EUCHARISTIC EDUCATION ( 3 )

IT WOULD be a mistake to limit the Eucharistic knowledge of

the child to an understanding of the Real Presence and the

nature of Holy Communion.

As soon as possible and in proportion to the unfolding of his

understanding, the child should be initiated into the Mystery

of the Eucharistic-Sacrifice, or in other words, he should be

given an intelligent appreciation of the Mass. This naturally

supposes that those instructing him have complete and

correct information on this vital subject--unfortunately, this

is not often the case.

It is easy to explain even to relatively young children--as was

evidenced in the Children's Crusade--that Our Lord did not

want to limit the offering of His immolation on the Cross to a

single day, to Good Friday only.

Because sins were going to continue to swarm the earth, it

was fitting--although certainly in itself not necessary, but

assuredly fitting--for Our Lord to repeat His elevation

between earth and heaven, to put Himself as a screen--the

screen of His nail-pierced Hands and open Side--between the

justice of God perpetually outraged and the sins of humanity.

Consequently, before dying, Our Lord gave to His Apostles

and their successors the power to change bread and wine into

His Body and Blood, the power to offer Him anew, the power

in each Holy Mass to lift him up again between earth and

heaven.

Since every day is marked by sin and the betrayal of Judas, by

the crimes of men, by forgetfulness and ingratitude without

name on the part of so many people, it is fitting, says Bossuet,

that every day be a Good Friday.

Our Lord in every Mass has again in the hands of the priest

the dispositions of complete sacrifice that were in His Heart

at the moment of the First Eucharistic Offering and which He

kept throughout His Passion and His agony on the Cross.

In this way will the Offering of His Sacrifice be perpetuated.

It is not a different immolation from the immolation of Holy

Thursday at the Last Supper; it is the same. Nor is it a

different immolation from the immolation on Calvary. There

it was a bloody sacrifice; at the altar, in the Mass, it is an

unbloody sacrifice. The form alone is different.

In order to stress the identity of the Mass and the Sacrifice of

the Cross--for it is a dogma that they are one and the same

sacrifice--the Church provides carefully that at every Holy

Mass a great number of details recall the immolation of Jesus

on Calvary.

The priest may not celebrate Mass unless there is a crucifix

above the altar. The altar stone beneath the altar cloths is

marked by five crosses which recall the five Wounds of Our

Lord. All the objects the priest uses and the vestments he

wears have reminders of the cross.

There should then not be too much difficulty for the child if

he is alert to become well informed about the ineffable

mystery of Christ's renewed or rather continued immolation.

Then he will get the habit--and a very essential habit it is--of

receiving Holy Communion not only to receive but also to

give; not only to benefit by the Living Bread but to unite

himself with Jesus in the very act of His perpetuated

Sacrifice.

EUCHARISTIC EDUCATION (4)

SHOULD children be led further in their Eucharistic education

than the phases discussed so far? That is, should they at such

an early age be introduced to the subject of grace,

particularly the ineffable grace given to the world through

the Sacrament of the altar?

It may be advisable to wait a bit before introducing them to

the subject of grace but it should be kept constantly in mind.

We ought not take it upon ourselves to dispense to these little

Christians only a part of Christianity.

Before we can penetrate to the depths of the Eucharistic

mystery, we must understand the great doctrine of our

incorporation in Christ: Our Lord, in order to restore to us the

divine life which we lost by original sin, was not satisfied to

redeem us from without by paying our debts with the merits

of His life and sacrifice; He wanted to make us one with Him

which, as I have already understood in my meditations, is the

culminating point of Christianity. Our Lord in order to

redivinize us made us one with Himself.

Thanks to the bloody grafting Our Divine Lord was willing to

endure for love of us on Calvary, we were made capable of

being joined, set and established as branches of the Living

Trunk. Baptism made this sublime incorporation effective for

each of us.

Since Calvary, then, we are of the body of Christ--Christ's

mystical body: Jesus plus us. "I am the Vine, you are the

branches."

A beautiful and strictly logical consequence follows: Just as

the Divine Redeemer dying on the Cross offered Himself as

Head of the whole human race, so in this pure oblation He

offers not only Himself as Head of the Church to the

Heavenly Father, but in Himself, His mystical members as

well.

Since Calvary, Jesus is not separated from His members. A

person passing through a door does not first put his head

through and then fifty feet later bring through the other

members of his body; he goes through as a unit at one time.

Is it so difficult to get our little Christians to understand that?

Naturally, we will attempt to explain it to them only after we

have made them conscious of what their baptism means to

them and the splendor of their status in Christ.

We tell ourselves too easily that it is difficult and under this

satisfying pretext we neglect to give the young the relish and

the knowledge for their splendor which they are actually

capable of enjoying.

I will teach my children as soon as possible to find in the

Eucharist Christ's great plan for proving His love. "He has

made us one with Him. In the act of sacrifice through the

hands of the priest, whose word alone has brought Him to be

present on the altar the Faithful themselves with one desire

and one prayer offer to the Eternal Father the most acceptable

victim of praise and propitiation for the Church's universal

needs."

EUCHARISTIC EDUCATION (5)

WE OUGHT to get the children into the habit of going to Holy

Communion not only to receive, although that in itself is a

tremendous privilege for "Unless you eat the Flesh of the Son

of Man you shall not have life in you" but most of all to give.

We have considered this point before, but it is worthy of

much thought.

How can we expect to enter into a true union with One who is

both the Immolation and the Immolated if we do not strive to

nourish the spirit of sacrifice in the very depths of our being?

To join together two beings one of whom is in the state of

sacrifice and the other not, one who is imbued with the spirit

of generosity and immolation and one who is not would be

but a juxtaposition of two totally different beings. Is that

union?

The spirit of sacrifice then is the prime disposition we should

foster in ourselves if we wish to profit the most from the

Eucharist. The priest at the Offertory puts a few drops of

water into the chalice. We must pour our whole selves into

the chalice to be offered.

The desire to give much more than the desire to receive

should move us. To offer our generosity; to understand the

call to sacrifice, to a united sacrifice, that is the Eucharistic

spirit.

If only we could inspire all our religious practices and

activities with this disposition which means so much to us

when we are participating in the highest act of worship

possible, the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass.

For how many is their whole life of prayer only their prayers

of petition! They are in difficulty, they need something and

they hold out their hand, "Lord, give me...." Such a prayer is

not forbidden, but that is not all there is to prayer.

"Prayer," says the Catechism, "is the raising up of our minds

and hearts to God...." Why? In order to adore Him, to thank

Him, to beg His pardon and to implore His graces.

The petition for graces comes last in the order of prayers.

First and foremost is the prayer of adoration, it is our homage

ascending to God. It is toward Him and not toward ourselves

that our souls are to be directed in prayer. "I praise You, O

God, for Your great glory." That is the fundamental sentiment

of the Gloria in Excelsis. "My soul doth magnify the Lord" is

Mary's exultant prayer, the Magnificat.

In the prayer of Thanksgiving, there is some thought of

ourselves but we are secondary. We pray because we have

received a gift from God. We thank Him for His beneficence.

This kind of prayer could be much more frequent! There are

so many who are in the habit of receiving without ever so

much as a "Thank You."

In the prayer for pardon, he who prays is surely present in his

prayer; he has sinned; it is of himself he speaks. The prayer

is excellent just the same, but it is only third in order of

excellence.

How much prayer would there be left in the lives of most

Christians if their prayers of petition were omitted from their

worship of God?

How do I stand in this matter of prayer? Is it my principal

effort to interest God in my affairs rather than to interest

myself in Him?

I ought to broaden my concept of worship. I will teach my

children to petition, to implore, to thank, but above all I will

teach them to adore.

TRAINING TO PURITY (1)

THE child is naturally innocent. Moreover, if baptized, it

possesses with infused faith a special quality of innocence

which comes to it from the presence of the Holy Spirit in its

soul.

We must avoid any diminishing of this innocence. It is a great

mistake to think that because the child is innocent, "it doesn't

understand," and consequently to take no precautions; to be

lacking in vigilance over the child's bathing and dressing, to

let it run about without clothes, unsupervised before its

brothers and sisters.

The adults of the family, too, should avoid any immodesty

either in posture or dress before the little one; they should

keep out of its way pictures of questionable decency. True, at

the time, the harm may be slight or even negative, but the

child has eyes and a memory; it registers everything, stores it

all away.

Only when the child is still a baby should it be allowed to

stay in bed after it is awake. Great care should be exercised

for bodily cleanliness to prevent the formation of bad habits

that might result from discomfort. It is best to separate the

sexes for sleep and to give the children a bed that is not too

soft.

As the children grow older, we must be vigilant over their

choice of playmates. We should protect them from any

pictures, statues, advertisements or entertainment that can

disturb them. We are wise if we keep the children busy even

to the point of fatigue, but a fatigue in keeping with their age

and strength. Never should we praise children for their

beauty, especially little girls. We ought also to inspire them

to absolute confidence. In addition we must seize every

opportunity to show them positively the grandeur of purity.

People sometimes attempt to rear children as if they were

without sex. Children are either little boys or little girls. Long

before the awakening of their sex instincts, in fact from their

babyhood, their personality is distinctly individual and gives

foreshadowings of fatherhood or of motherhood. Sex,

although its characteristic functions do not become active

until the onset of puberty, impregnates the whole physical

and moral being from the beginning. Consequently, it is

important to foresee long in advance the unfolding of that

providential power which is still dormant yet capable of

being influenced beneficially or detrimentally at this early

stage according to the wisdom of the folly of its training.

It would be well, then, to heed the strong injunctions of a

one-time educator: "We must never forget that certain organs

of the child which still serve him only in the processes of

elimination will become for him during adolescence the seat

of the powerful passion of the flesh and that then certain

acts, looks, attitudes which now may be only vulgar or

immodest can easily be after the awakening of sexual urges

impure and perverse. Further, such acts and attitudes can

arouse unhealthy and troublesome sexual excitation

prematurely and during the crisis of adolescence turn

spontaneously into the development of a vice which seems to

be rooted in the soul from its budding forth so truly is habit

second nature; and habit is difficult to break even in early

childhood."

We should not, however, be satisfied with a purely negative

training to holy purity, a training made up for the most part

of wise precautions. There is need, too, for positive training

in this beautiful virtue. This positive training will in part

consist of education in true facts, a discreet and chaste

explanation of the functions of the generative organs

according to God's plan; an explanation as complete as the

age of the child permits or requires. The duty of giving this

instruction falls largely upon the mother who only too often

finds herself inadequately prepared.

TRAINING TO PURITY (2)

IT IS a fact that even very young children become curious

about the difference of the sexes as well as the mystery of

generation and they express their curiosity with embarrassing

candor and directness in blunt questions: "Where do babies

come from?"

In general, no one is better qualified than the mother to give

the initial instructions and information delicately, without

wounding innocence or troubling and shocking the child's

keenly susceptible soul by confronting it too brusquely with

disturbing new concepts. It is better for the father to instruct

the boys. Parents have the grace of state; furthermore, they

know or they ought to know how to speak to their children

and exactly what to say according to what the child already

knows or does not know, according to its impressionability,

its probable emotional reaction, its intelligence, its

imagination.

The initial instruction must always be strictly individual,

never group instruction.

Such instruction should be given early enough, in time, but

never prematurely. Rarely should a mass of information be

given at once, but nearly always imparted progressively. One

must never give any false information, but neither is one

obliged to tell all there is to be told at one blow. Only such

knowledge should be given as is necessary to clarify the

present difficulty, to satisfy the child's curiosity at the time.

Later when occasion offers to complete the information, it

can be completed.

The introduction of the child to the facts of life must be

made with simplicity, without excessive preambles and

beating about the bush, objectively without clumsiness; they

must be presented as something quite natural but explained

in an atmosphere of earnestness, dignity and respect. There

must be nothing affected or borrowed in one's manner or

tone, only calmness and a natural everyday voice uncolored

by emotionalism. The child, however, must be made to

realize that he has been given no new subject for chatter with

his playmates and friends; if there is something he wishes to

speak of later regarding his new information or if there is

something he does not understand, he will always be able to

ask mother or father about it; he should speak to them about

it.

A very sensible mother concluded the instructions she gave

her little one with these few words: "What I have just told you

is a secret, our secret. Now that you know it, give me your

hand and promise me that you will not question other people

about it or ever speak to anyone else about it, but only to

me."

A little child will be flattered by such a mark of confidence

and being naturally pure will sense the reason for this

recommendation as clearly as if it had been expressed.

In addition, if the child is used to living in an atmosphere of

filial trust and abandonment, of respect for itself, of training

in sacrifice, supernatural generosity, daily contact with the

invisible world through prayer and love of God, its

instruction will prove singularly easy.

We cannot overemphasize the fact that "training to purity

must be set in the framework of a solid all-round training of

the will, the conscience, the emotions, the imagination and

the whole body." To enlighten the child regarding sex will

serve for nothing and can even be harmful if it has not first

been established in fidelity in the light of spirituality, and in

energy of will.

In other words, formal training to purity must be preceded by

training pure and simple. It will be possible to speak clearly

to a child who lives in an environment that is deeply

impregnated with Christianity. In his tranquil soul, innocent

and disciplined as it is, useful initiations can take place with

profit and without causing any trouble; his delicate

conscience will understand; his refined and mortified

emotions will yield readily to the requirements of modesty,

and he will not be stimulated to an unhealthy curiosity.

TRAINING TO PURITY (3)

SATISFYING the child s legitimate curiosity is not of itself a

sufficient antidote against evil; the nascent passions aiding a

precocious corruption in which the mind could effect a

premature awakening of troubling instincts could very easily

be the starting point of impure habits. It is essential that with

or preferably before we enlighten the child's mind on sex, we

inspire him with a love for moral beauty and develop in him a

generous will.

When we have done this, how should we proceed in teaching

the child the mystery of life?

There are two aspects to the lesson: to explain the role of the

mother in generation which is relatively easy; to explain the

role of the father which is more delicate and which should

consequently be given much later.

For the explanation of the first phase of this lesson there is

no better starting point than the Hail Mary, "Blessed is the

fruit of thy womb, Jesus."

"How beautiful it is," said little Guy de Fontgalland to his

father one day, "how beautiful it is that little Jesus, wishing to

come to earth like us, hid Himself for nine months within His

mother, in His mother's womb! How beautiful it is! I learned

that today when I said the Hail Mary; I understood it. How

little Jesus must love us to do that for us!"

In "Formation de la chastete" by Ernst, we read an example of

how easily and simply a mother went about the instruction of

her child. "Where do babies come from?" queried her seven-

year-old son. She answered with a story:

"Your father and mother love each other very much.

Therefore, they wanted a child with all their hearts. You know

that little children come from God: He created the first man

and gave all people life. But when He wanted to make another

man, He made use of parents and He put love into their heart.

He makes the little baby grow from a tiny little seed which he

leaves hidden for almost a year in a dark little hiding place.

You know flowers, plants and even big trees come also from

little seeds. (It is good to call children's attention to that fact

very early as it makes a good background.) Now each grain

must first of all remain some time in the dark earth. The seed

of the child has been placed by God's plan in the womb of the

mother; that is its hiding place. That is where you, too,

remained quite near my heart and God made your body and

soul. How? No one really knows but God Himself. You grew

until you were big enough to be taken in my arms.

"Even though the mother suffers great pain and may be in

danger of losing her life when the baby comes into the world,

she is glad to bear it all for love of her little one. Besides her

joy is greater than her pain. Parents thank God for His gift

and promise Him to take good care of the child and rear it

well."

There will be no difficulty if these instructions are given

before puberty when the opportunity arises.

The need to give the facts about the father's part in the

marital act is much less pressing. Such details can be given

when adolescent boys or girls ask specific questions on this

point revealing that the problem is uppermost in their mind

or when lack of knowledge if delayed would cause them

troubles of mind or soul; even when the subject is not on

their mind or causing them any difficulty, it may still seem

advisable to instruct them by way of preparation for life, as

for example, before they go away to school or enlist for

military service, or take a vacation job or any similar

occasion. How much better a revelation made with delicacy

and love than a brutal shock to conscience through

conversations, reading or impure pictures!

After giving the necessary details about the physiological

aspect of marriage, parents should never fail to lead their

child's mind as quickly as possible to a consideration of the

glorious purpose of generation--a participation in the creative

power of God.

TRAINING TO PURITY (4)

EVEN though there may be cases where it seems advisable to

give all the necessary explanations in a single sitting, in

general it is better to spread the lessons over a well-spaced

period of time and to grade them according to the

development of the child, its suspected temptations, and its

needs of soul.

Wise are parents and educators who show concern for the

child, foresee its needs, guess its worries, answer prudently

and discreetly its silent or expressed questioning. They need

much self-sacrifice and intelligence; but it is their role in life-

-the most beautiful part of their role.

After impressing the child with the fact that everything in the

mystery of the origin of life is sacred, divine--the union of

the parents, the generation of the child, which gives another

elect soul to God and another member to the Mystical Body--

is there any need to call attention to the gravity of the

desecrations that the perversity of men perpetrate against it?

Certainly such an idea should not be a starting point in our

explanations; the child's first ideas about the origin of life

must not be mingled with the concept of sin. The idea of,

magnificent grandeur should dominate. Later on, at an

opportune time and as the need arises, we can explain how

contrary to God's plan it is to interfere in any way with the

generation of life whether through selfishness or fear of

suffering; we can point out how God has surrounded the use

of the reproductive organs with special protections; we ought

to emphasize the safeguarding character of modesty and call

attention to the tremendous thought of God's divine presence

within us, making respect for our bodies imperative since

they are living temples of the Holy Spirit. We will tell them,

too, that God punishes severely the wicked use of the creative

power He has entrusted to His creatures, spiritually by loss of

grace and by hell and often corporally by disease.

What we must avoid above all is to give the children a sort of

obsession in regard to these matters. It is much better to

divert their attention from this subject than to concentrate it

there. One writer aptly says, "The best sex education is the

kind in which sex holds the least place possible." Another,

"The sacred work of nature must be enveloped by the triple

veil of modesty, silence, and obscurity."

We must say enough to enlighten the child, to silence his

curiosity, but refrain from saying more than necessary which

would excite further curiosity and trouble. We should

approach the instruction from its noblest side so that the

thought of the mystery of life will always be linked with the

thought of divine splendor. We need to pray much so that the

child by means of our efforts and despite dangers from

within and without will remain faithful in purity always,

faithful to the grace of his baptism; constant in living by the

light of faith. That means we cannot limit ourselves to purely

natural explanations but must steep our teaching in dogma--

the divine life of the Christian, his incorporation in Christ.

From these religious principles we can show that it is not

enough to have a beautiful ideal; we must live out this ideal,

an ideal that is both human and Christian. The necessity of

Confession, direction, and frequent Holy Communion, in

achieving the ideal ought to be stressed.

It is primarily in this endeavor that the words of Our Lord

have special significance: "Without Me you can do nothing."

And again, "The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak." It is

folly to expose oneself to temptation and wise to moderate

one's love of comfort and pleasure, to learn how to conquer

oneself. Better still is it to learn how to spend oneself in the

service of others. Nothing is a better protection against

failings in self than the gift of self to others. The first

beneficiary of the apostolate is the apostle himself. We ought

to encourage youth to join in one or other of the special

Catholic Action groups of the Apostolate such as a C. Y. O.

group, a Sodality, or Catholic scout work. It will help

discipline the body while training the soul.

READING

LAMARTINE'S mother wrote in her diary on June 19, 1801:

"I was thinking again today about the danger of light reading.

I believe that I would do well to refrain altogether from it; it

would be a sacrifice at first, a sacrifice that would certainly

please God since such reading is one of the most dangerous

pleasures in the world. Besides, when I am taken up with this

distracting kind of reading, serious and useful reading

wearies and bores me; yet, I certainly need it to become

capable of instructing my children. For their sakes I have

finally decided to deprive myself of the pleasures of

frivolous reading."

Parents should exercise care in their own reading. They, too,

must avoid all that could sully their souls and rob them of

virtue. They can go even further and like Lamartine's mother

give up reading that consumes the precious time which could

be spent in useful reading. One needs to know so many

things to rear children! Making due allowance for needful and

useful distractions, one ought always to choose reading

matter that will enrich the mind and foster the qualities

needed for the delicate ministry of parenthood.

What good fortune to be helped in advance by one's children:

"For their sakes, I am finally decided to deprive myself of the

pleasure of frivolous reading."

But the parents' reading is not the only problem. There is

another, the children's reading. What great imprudence is

evident in many families where all sorts of reviews,

magazines, newspapers, and books definitely unfit for

children are left lying about in their way; where unwise

freedom of the library is granted and children can ferret out

books that are often harmful to their morals and Christian

convictions.

Jean Jacques Rousseau's story is well known. Born a Calvinist

of parents who could scarcely be called commendable, he

met with nothing but disturbing examples in his early

childhood; however, he manifested a singular purity in

resisting all interior and exterior temptations to corruption.

He became a Catholic later and felt himself drawn to the

priesthood. But his superiors decided at the end of a few

weeks that he definitely did not have the makings of a good

priest in him.

Some time after he left the seminary he was perverted

morally by his benefactor, Madame de Warrens, who by most

culpable relations shamefully debased the youth she called

"Little one" despite her claim of wanting to act as "Mother" to

him.

Awakening to a realization of his condition, Rousseau wrote

in 1738: "O my God, pardon the sins I have committed up to

this day, all the evils into which I have fallen.... Accept my

repentance, O God, ...I will remember that You are the witness

of all my actions.... I will be indulgent toward others, severe

toward myself; I will resist temptations; I will live purely.... O

my sovereign Master, I will spend my life in serving You."

But unfortunately a library was opened to him and he

"perused books with a sort of frenzy," with no direction, no

discernment. He fell under the influence of Diderot, and

became a recruit for the Encyclopedists.

We know the rest. His story should incite us to serious

thought. On what does the orientation of a life depend? An

unlocked door, momentary forgetfulness, negligence--and a

soul is perverted forever!

The conclusion is evident: Never to have bad books in the

house. What good comes of them?

If for purposes of study or other reasons, books which might

prove dangerous for the rest of the family are absolutely

essential, they must always be kept in a locked place.

Children are curious, so too are the help. Harm is quickly

done!

TRAINING OF THE EMOTIONS

MANY parents are too soft in the training of their children. In

order not to pain their offspring, they give in to their every

whim. If the little one wants to be kissed, it is kissed; more

often than not its desire for the kiss is anticipated by the

parents to satisfy a desire of their own and to shower upon

the little one proofs of an exaggerated tenderness. Should the

child want a piece of candy, an object to examine, the parents

rush to give it; they give him everything he wants or they

think he wants.

What is the result? A child incapable of self denial; a child

who seeks only one thing, the satisfaction of his little

cravings. What a great danger for later life!

Father Viollet, director of the Association of Catholic Mothers,

speaking at its convention in 1929 said:

"Consider a mother who has obeyed all the corporal whims of

her child; she has in so doing prepared for all the child's

future falls. The little one lives as it were only by the senses

of taste and touch. If a mother satisfies every sensual desire

of the child in the delight of the palate and bodily comforts,

she unconsciously makes it a slave of its desires; are we not

correct then in saying that she herself has paved the way for

the child's powerlessness later to control its sexual life?

"When sex urges appear, it is only a matter of a change of

place for the sense cravings: The desires that in the child

were but the hankerings of its palate will spread at the age of

puberty to the other parts of the body. If the child has not

been accustomed from little on to control his sense of taste

and touch, how do we suppose he can escape becoming the

slave of sexual sensuality? This is a point that cannot be

overlooked."

Some parents are too demonstrative toward their children. Of

course, there is no question of forbidding all marks of

affection so natural on the part of the parents for their

children and the children for their parents; that too would be

an extreme. It is simply a matter of moderating tender

caresses, of keeping them in their proper measure, well-

ordered.

Just as it is essential for children to be reared in an

atmosphere of joyous confidence, loving simplicity,

harmonious companionship penetrated through and through

with mutual love, so too it is essential to avoid excess in

demonstrations of affection, endearing expressions, caresses

and fondling. Excess in this just as excess in any other

respect is a defect. It is easy to fall into such excess. Canon

Dermine, a very understanding man, made this comment:

"Parents, older brothers and sisters, maids, governesses,

friends of the family are inclined by the attraction of their

own feelings to shower babies with hugs and kisses. These

immoderate manifestations, although they have nothing

indecent about them, are not without danger, for they nourish

in the child a need for tenderness and a sort of sensuality

which can easily become a predisposition for the awakening

of the passions. Here moderation should be the rule."

The training of the children begins in the training of the

parents. They ought to moderate their own feelings if they do

not want their children to give evidence later of some

dangerously exacting needs. There is one kind of glutton who

stuffs himself with food and sweets; there is another who is

consumed by a need for caresses.

Let us be moderate ourselves on these points so that we can

teach the children to be moderate. Training is built on wise

and intelligent moderation.

THE CHILD AND LAZINESS

IT HAS been said that a great difficulty in child-training is to

know when to caress and when to whip.

While it is true that many of the child's faults arise from his

physical condition, we should not exaggerate that fact;

however, until we have proved that the fault is not the result

of a physical state, an embrace is of more value than a

whipping.

But here is a child whose faults are moral not physical, nor is

there a psychological difficulty involved; he is sensual, he

lies and he steals. There is nothing for it but to use restraints

and punishments, without, however, neglecting wholesome

encouragement at any manifestation of good will.

This is all very simple in theory, but the practical application

of it is not always easy especially when the fault in question

happens to be laziness. When a normally intelligent child

dawdles at his work; when in spite of all efforts to stimulate

him with high motives of courage, hope of reward and similar

attractions, he persists in his inertia, chances are that he has

something physically wrong with him or he is suffering from

poor hygienic conditions. There was, for example, the little

boy who appeared to be disgustingly lazy. One day, however,

an attack of appendicitis made an operation imperative for

him. Six months later, the child was at the head of his class.

Another child was in a classroom that was overcrowded and

the atmosphere was so vitiated that he had difficulty

breathing. He was sent to the country and immediately his

work habits improved.

Whipping in either of these two cases would have been no

help in curing the laziness of the children; all that was

necessary was to make conditions favorable for work.

But there are truly lazy children; theirs is a moral laziness:

They won't work at all because they don't have the least bit of

energy. The Catechism defines laziness as "an excessive love

of rest which makes one avoid every painful duty." That is

exactly what it is.

Now people who work do so either through a taste for it,

through self-respect or because of duty. The problem, then,

with the really lazy child is to try to stimulate in him a liking

for work or awaken in him a legitimate self-respect or develop

in him a sense of duty.

Stimulate a liking for work: Sometimes children dislike school

work especially because their beginning lessons in a subject

were poorly taught. The child was repulsed by initial

difficulties. That is often the case in mathematics.

"My son is getting along all right," a mother explained, "but he

is a little weak in Greek." The fact was that the elements of

that language had been badly explained to him. A clever

professor took him in hand, showed him that Greek was

easier than Latin once the first difficulties of the alphabet,

the declensions, and the conjugations had been conquered.

The boy won a first in Greek.

Awaken a legitimate self-respect: Some children prefer rest

and comfort to all else. The last place bothers them very

little. They seem to have no ambition; they are utterly

indifferent to success. We need not fear to humiliate them

but we must be vigilant not to discourage them. The dunce

cap worn too often frequently produces a real dunce. We

must be ingenious to find a way to make that pupil succeed

in something at least once. This could be a good starting

point; then, if nothing comes of it, punishment should follow.

We are, it must be remembered, considering the case of a

child who does not succeed, not because he lacks the means,

but because he does not work.

Develop a sense of duty: "You ought to work because papa and

mamma wish it and God asks it." Bring into play a filial spirit

and love of God.

Parents must know correct child psychology. They are the

ones who have given him his physiological being. It is up to

them to examine whether anything in his physical condition

explains his inertia at work; they are in a better position than

anyone else to determine this. If the deficiency is

psychological, they have the responsibility for seeking into

its cause and supplying the appropriate remedy. It is up to

them, without substituting their own activity for the child's to

teach him how to will by stimulating his will.

LAZY CHILDREN

CHILDREN who do not work or who work badly are of several

types.

There are sickly children: Here the remedy is up to the

doctor.

There are poorly endowed children: They are not exactly ill;

people can be in splendid health without being very

intelligent. Some children have little talent. Rare are the

parents who have the courage to recognize it; they are

ashamed, and wrongly so, of the weak instrument their

offspring has received. They ought to pity the child whose

mind is less keen as they pity the child who is crippled or in

weak health. Besides with patience they can sometimes

achieve excellent results.

Then there are children who are badly trained by their

parents or poorly taught by their teachers. They have been

allowed to acquire habits of disorder and caprice or they have

been roughly treated, overwhelmed with tasks beyond their

ability to the point of being crushed by their work; they have

been taught neither discipline nor a good method of work. In

their case poor pedagogy is to blame. Finally, there are the

actually lazy children: They are sufficiently endowed,

sufficiently healthy to do normal work, but they refuse to

apply themselves, go at their work grudgingly and seek to do

the least possible amount of work.

Such evil is frequently traceable to an early childhood

marked by too soft a training, an inadequate training in effort

and endurance. The child did not start early enough to use

profitably the opportunities to exercise liberty, to assume

responsibility and to attack work. The parents acted for him

instead of trying to form him. They lacked skill in

transforming play into work and work into play. They gave

him toys which offered him no chance to use his intelligence,

his constructive bent, his imagination and creative powers.

And whenever they held out the prospect of school life to him

they led him to regard it as a task or punishment: "If you are

not good at home we will send you to school soon," instead of

"If you are good, we shall be able to send you to school and

you will have the joy of beginning to work."

The child who is poorly trained will get accustomed to

cutting his life up into two parts: the principal part belongs to

pleasure with the other part thrown in from time to time--

those boring moments assigned to work. He should have been

impressed with the idea that work is the law of our whole life;

it is the unfolding and the extension of our powers and if it

brings with it a certain amount of labor, it also brings with it

a greater amount of joy which results from overcoming

difficulties, acquiring new knowledge and opening up

additional possibilities for advancing farther into the field of

truth. Recreations, games are but opportunities to relax and

to stretch out into the open as it were to grasp new strength

for further work.

Work should be presented not as a drudgery but as a

conquest. Very early in life the child should be led to

envision his future career or mission: "If you want to become

an engineer, a sailor, then...." Or "You will be a mother maybe

and you will have to keep house." They should see that papa

and mamma find pleasure in work and better still that work

pleases God. We must all of us sanctify ourselves in the duty

of our state at each moment whether we like it or not. If we

like it, so much the better. If we do not like it, then we ought

to put greater generosity into it and offer our suffering for a

worthy cause, such as the missions, the sanctification of

priests and religious, one's family and many similar good

intentions.

Care should be taken not to overdo the reward idea,

especially rewards promised as a prize for work requested;

that develops calculating hearts. Ask for work for the reasons

previously indicated and wait for an opportunity to give an

appropriate recompense on some other occasion; it will be so

much more a prize since it will be unexpected.

TRAINING IN SINCERITY (1)

THE CHILD is exposed to two sorts of lies: the lie of which he

himself is the victim; the lie of which he makes others the

victim.

The child has an imagination that never ceases its activity.

His first contacts with the world have been with dream

powers; he knows nothing yet of reality being much too little

to grasp it; he makes a world for himself, a world in which he

is king and lord. Even later when he does begin to get in

touch with reality, he will use it only as a springboard to

project himself into the stars. Dream and reality overlap in

his little head without harming each other; they merely

embellish each other and he will not be able to recognize the

line of separation. That accounts for so much fantasy in his

conversation and the astonishing liberty he takes with what

we adults hold as true.

Weighed by our standards, it is clearly evident that the

child's stories sound to us like downright inventions. He

himself will be taken in by his own game. He will distort with

delight, improvise the strangest scenes without shame. Will

he always be able to distinguish whether he is the dupe of his

imagination or not? Whether he is sincere or not? He is a

wonderful builder of castles in the air and he will often

endeavor to persuade those about him with the solidity of his

edifices. Shall we call him a liar?

--Certainly not, rather an actor, an artist, a poet.

Parents and educators know well how advantageously they

can utilize this power of recall and creation that children

have. Consequently, they know no better way to amuse them

and keep them quiet than to tell them stories--stories that are

entirely fictitious, tales of magic, picturesque legends in

which ghosts, fairies or devils play enchanting roles.

Let us not carry water too generously to the fountain. Yes,

certainly, we can tell the little ones charming stories but with

moderation. Make the children want them; however, avoid

killing their effect by telling too many in close sequence.

Children must be able to think over the stories, mediate on

them, and through them discover life as it is. If the stories

resemble each other or follow in too close succession, the

child's imagination will jumble everything; the profit is

considerably lessened.

One precaution is vital: The stories, which will surely always

be very appealing and not without some suggestion of

complication and mystery, must definitely present virtue in a

beautiful light; otherwise, the child will be occupied,

entertained and kept interested but he will not be educated or

inspired. Since he is possessed of uncompromising logic he

will be quick to draw dangerous conclusions if he sees vice

rewarded; and the unpleasant results may not be slight. From

this standpoint some puppet shows are not so innocent as

they appear. We must not be pharisaical but we must know

how to foresee danger. With children everything is important.

Even one or the other of La Fontaine's fables have

questionable merit for children. Fortunately, with these

fables, the children are much more interested in the activities

of the characters than in the moral demonstrated. As one

child put it: "Fables are entertaining; it is a pity though that

there must always be a tiresome closing at the end." He was

referring to the final two or three lines, the author's moral

tag, which pointed out the lesson to be taught.

Let us not forget that the most beautiful stories are not made-

up stories, but stories that really happened. "Did that really

happen, mamma?" What a joy to be able to answer yes to that

question. Why not take the bulk of our stories, if not

exclusively at least mostly, from the lives of the saints, from

the Gospel stories? Where can anything more wonderful,

more truly wonderful, and at the same time more authentic,

be found?

TRAINING IN SINCERITY (2)

THERE is another kind of lie possible for the child, one that

has moral significance, and that is the lie told with the actual

intention of deceiving.

He may categorically deny his guilt when accused of a fault

he has actually committed, or he may invent falsehoods

through vanity. In the first instance he is seeking to

exonerate himself; in the second, to make himself more

important.

Often the reason the child tells the first kind of lie is that the

punishment he gets for his little pranks and misdemeanors is

out of all proportion to his offense. So many parents punish

under the influence of anger that cruel words, exaggerated

expressions and sometimes mean acts escape them. The child

unable to resist by strength seeks to escape by deceit.

Sometimes the child lies for the sole satisfaction of excusing

himself; not to mention the case, which is not at all fantastic,

where the child lies for the sake of lying through an

unhealthy tendency which is fortunately rare. In cases of this

kind, the little offender must be shown how ugly such a fault

is, how unworthy of him and how saddening for his parents.

Wise indeed was the mother who used the following

technique on her four-year-old daughter the first time she

tried to deceive her.

"My little girl has lied to me. This is the first time that anyone

has lied in this house; therefore my little one may not have

any dessert today because she deserves to be punished and

mamma will not eat either because she will not be able to; she

feels too sad."

Even when children are older such a method is good. A

certain colonel had entrusted his sixteen-year-old son with

the honor of keeping the flag of his regiment in his room; he

took the privilege away from him as a punishment for a small

lie.

The following counsel ought to be adopted as principles of

conduct by those who want to inculcate an appreciation of

sincerity in their children:

1. To create and to maintain an atmosphere of loyalty, of

uprightness and of utter truth in the home. To instill a horror

of sham, of pretense, of playing-up through policy. To

encourage simplicity in everything; to take it for granted that

no one will seek to pass for what he is not; that if one has

done wrong he will admit it. To refrain from upbraiding and

to tolerate no tattling. To praise another for his truthfulness

particularly if it cost him something.

2. Never to set an example of lying or give any

encouragement to lying. No bluff: "When the teacher asks you

if you did your homework all alone say yes." None of that!

3. Never to give a child the impression that we believe him to

be a liar, but rather to manifest confidence in him. That will

encourage him to be truthful and develop his self-respect.

4. Never to demand any immediate avowal of faults in the

presence of others.

5. Never to laugh at any clever little lie told by the child to

get out of facing up to a mistake or fault.

6. Never to lose an opportunity of praising for honesty and

reproving for duplicity.

The last and most important of all advice is to inculcate in

the child the sense of the Divine Presence. Help him to

realize that God is everywhere, as the proverb puts it, "God

sees a black ant on the blackest marble in the blackest night."

Above all help him to understand that God dwells in the

depths of his baptized soul. "You are a living ciborium. You

can deceive your parents, your playmates, your friends. God

accompanies you everywhere: Be firm out of respect for the

divine Guest who does not leave you."

TRAINING IN SINCERITY (3)

THE best way to encourage a child to be truthful at all times

is to use strong positive appeals.

1. Appeal to personal dignity and pride: General de

Lamoriciere used to say, "I shall die without ever having told

a lie." And little Guy de Fontgalland, "I have never lied; I have

too great a horror of untruth."

Beneath the doorway of the Church of Santa Maria in

Cosmedin, at Rome there is an immense slab of antique

marble on which is drawn a face with a wide open mouth--The

Mouth of Truth, La bocca della verita. Legend has it that it

closes mercilessly on the fingers of liars. The biographer of

the Empress Zita relates that when she was a little girl she

used to plunge her fingers into the bocca positive of

withdrawing them intact because as she explained, "I have

never lied." Is not the reproach, "you are a liar" one of the

most devastating?

2. Appeal to Courage: The story of George Washington and

the cherry tree is a classic. We all know it. The father

appreciated his son's courage and praised him with the

words: "Your honesty is worth more than the most beautiful

cherry tree."

According to Corneille, to be honest is to be a gentleman:

He who calls himself a gentleman and lies as you do

Lies when he says it, and will never be one.

Is there vice more vile, is there stain more black

More unworthy of a man . . .

3. Appeal to Love for Peace: Corneille wrote his play "The Liar"

to show that he who deceives others is not happy. Once he

has entangled himself in the web of deceit and dissimulation,

he needs a good memory for all the tales he has invented.

What if he were to give himself away, reveal his deceit? That

must be a constant worry.

How truly psychological was the answer of the individual who

responded to the question, "Are you really telling the truth"

with the statement, "I never lie; I am too busy; lying would

befuddle me too much, get me too involved."

Truthfulness is further a guarantee of success. Sincerity is

the best policy; we mistrust one who is known as a sly fellow,

a dissembler, without integrity. We are not wary of an upright

person. To be honest is the best way to be clever.

In general, a frank admission of guilt disarms. Madame

Acarie, an outstanding Christian of the seventeenth century

often said to her children, "Even if you would turn the whole

house topsy-turvy and destroy it, but admit it when

questioned, I should pardon you; however, I will never pardon

you the smallest lie. Even if you were as tall as the ceiling I

would get some women to help me hold you rather than allow

a lie to slip by without punishment; nor would the whole

world together succeed in getting me to pardon you."

The conclusion is evident. I will strive to give my children the

Gospel principle, "Let your words be yea, yea; nay, nay."

The example of that upright soldier General de Maudhuy

could well be an inspiration for me; he composed the

following soldier-prayer for his boys, "My lord, Saint Louis,

Sir Bertrand du Guselin et Sir Bayard obtain for me the grace

to be brave like you and never to lie either to myself or to

others."

HONESTY AND TACT

To TEACH children to be honest and at the same time to

develop in them a feeling for the requirements of tact so that

they learn to keep to themselves opinions which might wound

or embarrass others is a delicate undertaking.

While a child may occasionally be given to lying, he is, unless

perverted, much more inclined to speak the truth. He will

blurt it out regardless of place or circumstances. Has he not

often won for himself the epithet terrible for no other reason

than his disconcerting honesty?

--"Godfather, are you going to stay a long time this evening?"

--"Oh, just about the usual time. Why?"

--"Because, Mamma says there's just no way of getting you to

leave."

It is necessary but not easy to make the child appreciate

where sincerity ends and indiscretion begins; to teach him,

without dulling the lustre of his honesty, that it is not always

good to say everything just because it is true and that

politeness and even charity require us to practice self-

restraint and not give free rein to the expression of all

feelings.

In his play "The Misanthrope," Moliere gave us the character

of Alceste who on the plea of honesty flung the unpleasant

truth about others into their very face. He succeeded not in

converting them but in bringing shame upon himself and

wounding seriously the self-respect of those he insulted with

his intemperate frankness.

Always to mean what one says is not the same as saying all

one thinks or all one knows.

Human beings are called to live together in society and there

can be cases where social life requires that words, those

external symbols of thought and feeling, be used outside of

strict material meaning or even contrary to it. We should not

call such statements lies or we will create a disturbing

confusion in the mind of the child who must be thoroughly

convinced that a lie is never justifiable.

Much of the difficulty will be cleared away if we make the

child understand that the purpose of speech is not only to

express the truth but also to foster life in common. We must

insist that lying is absolutely forbidden but likewise explain

that to defend one's secrets against the curious, one's purse

against thieves is a legitimate act which need not involve a

lie.

Catholic morality is the morality of truth and honesty; but

being human and social, it is also the morality of prudence,

of justice and of charity.

IS SELF-ACCUSATION OBLIGATORY?

WE HAVE seen the difficulty and the necessity of giving the

child a correct notion of the consideration due to politeness

and charity in the true spirit of sincerity.

There is yet another difficulty: Many do not sufficiently

distinguish the exact limits of sincerity or rather the degree

of obligation to speak the entire truth.

"There is no obligation to speak the entire truth to one who

has no right to know it. We can use words in their usually

accepted meanings: we can allow circumstances to modify

the meanings of words: we can allow the hearer to deceive

himself:"

St. Thomas a Becket, Archbishop of Canterbury, had to flee

from the anger of Henry II, the King of England. He was

pursued by the king's emissaries. As he rode along on a horse

with neither bridle nor saddle he was stopped by armed men.

"Are you possibly the Archbishop of Canterbury?"

--"Well, my friends," he answered, "look and judge for

yourselves whether or not this is the equipage of an

Archbishop."

"Deceit and sharp practice!" some will protest. Not at all.

Simply a clear knowledge of the exact extent of the duty of

truthfulness.

Take a case more directly concerned with education. Here let

us presume that those who question have a right to the truth,

the parents for example. There is even in this case a principle

intervening which does not allow them to push their right to

know the truth by demanding an avowal of guilt.

And this principle which all moral theologians recognize and

which is founded on great wisdom is that no one is obliged to

accuse himself. It is up to the accusers to prove the guilt and

to punish accordingly if the guilt is proved. If the culprit

does admit guilt it should be a reason for lessening the

punishment. But to make self-denunciation a necessity is

excessive.

Consider the case of a little child suspected of a fault. "Did

you do that?" he is asked. According to correct morality, he

cannot be forced to accuse himself. If the child says the

whole truth, perfect! He is not obliged to. When he does, he is

generous, doing more than he must; he has a right then to

marked leniency. "A fault confessed is half pardonned." But

one oversteps his power by commanding him to hide nothing,

by telling him that he sins if he does not accuse himself. He

does the better thing in accusing himself but commits no

fault in not accusing himself; he is guilty of an imperfection

but no sin.

Certainly it is better to accustom the child to admit the truth

at all times, but to make it a formal duty in every case is to

urge the law beyond reason and to confound a generous

attitude with an obligatory attitude. One of the most essential

points in the formation of the child's conscience is to teach

him to discern what is commanded from what is simply

though earnestly counseled.

TRAINING TO CONFIDENCE

CONFIDENCE is necessary. Nothing is so sad as those chasms

which divide parents and children, causing them to lead lives

practically isolated from each other, with no contact of soul,

no intimacy between them.

Difficult moments will come, temptations will arise, decisions

will have to be made and action determined. If children have

no confidence in their parents, to what dangers they will be

exposed!

But this confidence is difficult to get.

One important reason for the difficulty arises from the

physical or moral temperament of the parents and of the

children. The parents must know how to vanquish their little

ones' fears, consent to their advances and not be afraid to

give in.

Sometimes this confidence is blocked by other reasons which

parents only too often overlook. There are for example

parents, who because they are not sufficiently supernatural,

openly show more affection for one child than another or

give fewer marks of affection to one child. The child who

believes himself slighted may turn inward and become sullen

and jealous.

Again there are parents who are unbalanced in their

punishments or fail to be just. There are others who are

woefully ignorant of psychology and as a consequence

seriously wound the self-respect of a child. He retaliates by

closing up his heart.

A mother once laughed at a candid confidence her little boy

revealed to her. He was hurt.

--"Papa," he said, "I don't love mamma anymore."

--"What's that! Is it possible? Why not?"

--"Why? . . . Well, that's just how it is. I don't want to tell her

anything anymore . . . never anymore."

The father tried in vain to reason with him but he remained

obstinate.

--"No, that's the end. I don't love mamma anymore!"

It may have been mere caprice and doubtless it was; time

would probably clear it up. Yet, who knows?

Like all fragile things, the child's heart is easily scarred. And

as with all things that have been marred it is not easy to

restore the lustre, to efface all the blemishes.

Parents who want their children's confidence must know how

to listen, to listen untiringly. They must be able to show

interest in their triumphant little stories as well as in their

grievances. They may never ridicule them, never rebuff them

through irritation or nervousness and never deceive them.

They must know how to read their children without trying in

any way to force an entry into their hearts or consciences;

rather, they must be clever at inviting a confidence,

dispelling a cloud, evoking a smile, creating a diversion in

case of a mishap or tempest. They must show understanding

always and make the children feel that they can tell them

everything. Not that they approve of everything, but they

take everything into consideration; if then adjustments are

called for they make them; if rewards are merited, they

bestow them. And when they must punish they do so with

only the good of the child in mind so that, if the age of the

child warrants it, they will explain the reason for their

actions.

If in spite of all this, a child still persists in being withdrawn

and uncommunicative, reserved as a hermit, there is nothing

else to do but pray. Parents should not grow discouraged. Of

course they should try to discover whether this reticence is

the result of temperament or conscience worries. It might

even be necessary for them to turn to someone else for help,

someone who will be more successful because more

competent. In many cases this could be a priest. It is a great

mistake for parents to want to be the only recipients of their

children's confidence. The child, the adolescent must be able

to confide in someone. If we are not the one, and someone

else is, let us accept the fact humbly. Such renunciation is

very meritorious especially for the mother.

"ALL MY TRUST"

"I GET all my trust from my mother," Joan of Arc used to say.

Pauline Jaricot, the foundress of the Society for the

Propagation of the Faith, could say the same. Every evening

her mother used to gaze into her eyes to read the story of the

day's fidelities to God's law which she had explained to the

little girl with much unction.

Something similar took place in the training of the boy

Augustine in Malegue's "The Master is Here:" Never did his

mother reprimand him for his failings without reminding him

that he had grieved Little Jesus. "It makes Little Jesus sad

when you stamp your foot because you want to go home;

when you refuse to leave the table so that it can be set just

because you are busy doing a water color in your Christmas

drawing book."

Each day he was expected to learn two Catechism questions:

"Every morning after breakfast in Big Catherine's kitchen,

mamma heard the recitation of the two Catechism questions

she had explained the evening before. Tiny sister Christine

balancing herself on her yet unsteady legs used to pull at

mamma's dress. That would be just the time when the baby

would set up a howl in his cradle.

"Mingled with this morning hubbub were the words of

Theology. They were difficult and impressive words. They

were like the words grown-ups use when they don't want little

children to understand what they are saying. It is true that

mamma put other words in their place to explain them."

Happy the man to whom God gives a saintly mother!

This verse of Lamartine will always be profoundly true!

Who can tell the mother's great power to make the Faith take

root in the mind of the child and to plant seeds of the most

beautiful virtues in his heart. And will we not have to give

primary credit to these first lessons of childhood for

whatever remains of trust in the mind that has reached

maturity and for whatever generosity exists in the souls that

have been buffeted by life? The forces of mature age owe

much to the lights and inspirations of early age.

Monsignor d'Hulst in one of his famous conferences at Notre

Dame in Paris referred to this idea: He said that when a man

wants to justify his moral principles he will search his past to

find their origin; he will discover that they seem to trace back

farther than the beginnings of his conscious thought; they

will seem to him as submerged in that distant past when his

life was still bound closely to that of his mother and he was

as yet unable to sustain himself without the tenderness of her

supporting arms.

Should it happen that a child loses his mother at an early age,

her memory will remain and protect him. But if she lives what

a help she is above all if she has a great soul, a soul that

knows how to watch and to pray; to watch without being too

obvious about it; for she will not want to awaken haughty

resistance; to pray more silently still without however

neglecting her duty of good example in prayerfulness.

Ozanam writing to a friend stated that he seemed to benefit

almost every moment by the nearly constant presence of his

mother.

Let me as a mother examine my conscience. By bringing

children into the world I have accepted a sublime mission. To

give birth to children is in itself something wonderful. But to

rear children, how much more difficult! How close to God I

must be to lead all my little ones or my big ones as the case

may be to the heights of the divine and to help them live on

this high plane.

I must grow. I must educate myself. I must acquire what I

lack.

FORMATION OF CHARACTER (1)

CHILDREN are naturally upright. They are weak and easily

become afraid like the rest of us but they are upright.

They know what they ought to do and what they must not do.

They discover that very quickly since they are not only aided

by the restraints and prohibitions of their family but also

enlightened by the interior verdict of their conscience.

They have no difficulty surmising that if they do not do what

is good they will grieve Mamma and Papa and likewise God;

furthermore they realize that they will incur a punishment in

proportion to their wrong--the principle of the proportion

between the sin and the punishment familiar to the Doctors is

already implicitly in the heads of these little theologians.

To be sure, it is in no abstract fashion that they acquire such

knowledge; they achieve it in situations that are part of their

everyday life, to the accompaniment of emotional

experiences which are often quite impressive. They feel an

inward approval, peace and joy when they have been good

and, on the contrary, disquiet, unease, and interior reproach

if they have not fulfilled a command. They do not have

precise ideas on the subject but an intense feeling; they

would not be able to explain the words responsibility, law or

liberty; however, a real and profound experience discovers

moral reality to them. They were supposed to behave well and

they have acted badly, they are in the wrong and deserve to

be punished. They feel it, they know it, and they suffer from

it. Their childish language, their very silence and

embarrassment bear witness to it. The day they learn the

correct vocabulary for all of this they will be capable of

putting these realities under their proper classification.

Before they have ever learned the words for these realities

they have lived the realities.

What a precious advantage for the child to be brought in this

way into the region of the invisible!

The great philosopher Olle-Laprune stresses this point:

The child "who it seems is entirely controlled by sense

impressions, he whom visible nature seems to dominate by

its charms and the thousand causes for fright it spreads

about him, stops respectful and troubled before an invisible

law. Invisible also is the Master, invisible too the Judge whose

presence this law makes the child feel. God--the august and

Sacred Name that he used to pronounce with docility but

without comprehension--now becomes for him a mysterious

reality whose invisible smile or secret threats are for him the

most precious cause for hope or the greatest reason for fear.

God--whom he does not see but who sees him, God--whom he

knows so little yet by whom he is perfectly known. God--of

whom he thinks only at intervals but who is constantly

mindful of him. God--all powerful, wise, good completely

good, better than a father, better than a mother, perfectly

good and just and holy; what care he must take not to

displease such a God! what misfortune to offend Him. How

good he ought to be himself, how he ought to be truthful, to

be just to all, to do good to others because those are the

things God loves; those are the things He commands; those

are the things God Himself does in His own sublime fashion,

and he must resemble God.

"Invisible grandeurs, invisible beauties: the child who enters

into life with all his senses open and avid for stimulation of

every sort can nevertheless fall in love with these realities

that are inaccessible to the senses; he can aspire to know

them better some day, somewhere and finally to look forward

to the joy of possessing them then as the best reward for

good will and the pain of being deprived of them as the worst

punishment for an evil will. This is the way the moral and

religious life of the child gets its start."

FORMATION OF CONSCIENCE (2)

THERE is a story that at a certain Honor's Day a prize was

offered to a lazy little fellow by way of consolation; since he

did not come in for any victories in achievement, he was

given a prize for the best health. He must have had a flair for

rhyme for according to the legend this was his response:

I don't care for the prize I did not really earn;

Why, to get my good health, I did not make a turn.

To be rewarded for something which had caused him no

effort, which represented no attainment on his part seemed

odious to him. Lazy though he was, he did not lack

intelligence or a sense of disinterestedness.

Most children are quicker to understand the notion of

punishment as a just consequence for a wrong done.

They are well aware that to be able materially to accomplish

an act is not one and the same thing as being permitted to do

it. Children very quickly grasp the idea that Monsignor

d'Hulst explained in one of his masterful talks at Notre Dame

in Paris:

"We can compare physical necessity to a rigid iron or wooden

barrier: As long as it holds out it is impossible to break

through; if one does succeed in breaking through it is only

because the barrier was knocked down or broken. Duty, moral

obligation, is also a barrier, but a spiritual barrier; we can cut

through it as we would through a ray of sunshine. Its bright

line marks out very clearly the limits beyond which we must

not pass; if we happen to violate it, it lets us pass but closes

behind us to continue forming a frontier of light between

good and evil."

Whoever does break through this bar of light merits

punishment.

How easy it is to profit by the awakenings of morality in the

child to help him see clearly into his conscience. We teach

him his prayers, the Act of Contrition for example: "O my

God, I am very sorry..."; he has no trouble understanding; he

knows he has acted badly, that he should not have pulled his

sister's hair, disobeyed papa, wanted his own way. He has

broken through the bar of light. Even if mother did not see

him, someone did and that was God; a kind of inward voice

tells him very quietly that he is guilty, that he must make up

for it by being sorry, by asking forgiveness, by accepting the

little pain that will come to compensate for the pleasure that

he had no right to take.

Perhaps it will be necessary to reverse the order of the words,

proceeding from the natural to the supernatural. Nothing is

simpler: "Regret, sorrow, penance, offense against God, a God

infinitely good.... How many difficult words; yet their meaning

will unfold bit by bit.

Then when the time for confession comes, when he must say

"I confess to Almighty God" only the word confess will seem

strange, but only the word not the act; the child will have no

difficulty making his accusation. Get him into the habit of

making his little examination of conscience; he will tell you

his "sins" out loud. I "confess" that is I "admit"; he will

understand that he ought to admit and admit to God who is so

good all the wrong that he has done.

"Through my fault," I should not have done it. But when I

have confessed it, it will disappear, it will be wiped out. And

then, of course, I must not do it over again; I must not break

through the bar of light again. "Therefore I beseech You. . . "

Another difficult word he must learn, but a reality which he

does not yet see . . . to be good he must have God's help. By

himself everything would be too difficult! How children do

stumble over that "by means of Your holy grace" in their Act

of Contrition and sometimes we don't blame them! Yet

beyond the vocabulary so poorly adapted to them lies a

reality which is quite within their power to grasp!

FORMATION OF CHARACTER (3)

SOME children, perhaps the majority of them, readily admit

their peccadillos.

There are others though who are very proud, very jealous of

that little interior kingdom where an intimate voice, God's

voice, is heard, where they can judge their conduct in the

light of what that voice demands; into this domain they want

no other person to penetrate.

We must respect a child's interior life and not seek to enter

there without being invited, not try to learn what he does not

wish us to know of that interior life, nor try to find out what

he hides with a sort of naive but respectable modesty.

Neither should we remind him of painful scenes, now past

and forgiven, in which he was clearly off his good behavior;

there is danger of humiliating him, of causing him to close

up. Discretion always!

This virtue will be an absolute necessity later; it will be no

easy virtue to practice either. How painful for the father and

the mother not to know what happens in the intimate life of

their child! True there are indications that everything is all

right or that something is wrong: Eyes that can no longer

meet one's gaze, the tilt of the head, the sudden blush of

shame, the general appearance that has become less vibrant

and more embarrassed may tell much. But there are some

young people, boys and girls, who excel in putting on an act

and who never reveal their true depths; they remain closed

temples.

It is ideal if parents do know everything about their child.

They must however be willing to know only a little and in

some cases nothing at all.

One very important lesson we must teach a child is not only

to observe the number of his peccadillos but the kind. He

should learn to distinguish between important matter, a

slight infraction, and simple imperfections. It is a sin when

one resists a command of God, an imperfection only when

one resists a simple desire of God. When there is question of

a command of God, he must know too if the command is

concerned with something serious, for then the infraction of

that command is a mortal sin provided of course that there

was full knowledge and real consent.

Most scruples are caused by inadequate and ill-adapted

Catechism instruction at the age when the first conscience

problems arise.

It is vitally important that we take great care not to cause the

child to live in a perpetual fear of sin. Let him learn to be

motivated by love. It is easier by far; the child quickly

advances beyond attrition or imperfect contrition and finds

love and perfect contrition much more understandable.

Souls that have been warped in childhood by exaggerated

fears are in danger of living for the rest of their lives with

nervous consciences, without freedom of spirit or joy.

We are to form children of God and not future prisoners of an

iron-collar religion. The Gospel is not for a convict squad; we

are at ease in our Father's house.

Many defections of later life are due to inadequacies of

education. A false conscience is easily made; a soul is easily

warped.

EDUCATION IN REVERSE

IT HAS been said that education is the art of developing in a

child all the faults he has received from nature and adding all

those nature failed to give him.

In this same vein a rather facetious author dared the

comment, "Providence gave us parents to show us how we

ought not act toward our children."

Someone else even more caustic drew up an infallible recipe

for rearing children badly. All he had to do to determine the

ingredients was to observe the behavior of certain parents.

Could we not put definite names behind a few of the points

ourselves. All we must do is observe; examples unfortunately

abound: Here is the infallible recipe:

1. Begin from babyhood to give the child everything he asks

for.

2. Discuss his wonderful qualities in his presence.

3. Observe in his presence that it is impossible to correct

him.

4. Be sure to have father and mother wrangling in his

presence and in disagreement about him.

5. Let him get the idea that his father is only a tyrant and

good for nothing but to chastise him.

6. Let the father show little respect for the mother in his

presence.

7. Pay no attention to his choice of playmates.

8. Let him read anything he wants.

9. Try to earn much money for him without giving him good

principles to live by and let him have money freely.

10. Let him have no supervision during recreation.

11. Punish him for a mere awkwardness and laugh at his real

faults.

12. Take his part against teachers at school or in college

when they try to make him come to task.

As far as punishment goes for wrongdoing, how many parents

prove cowardly and unwise. Consider the mother's statement,

"The only way I can keep my authority is by not exercising it."

What a confession of failure!

Some parents let their children do anything and everything.

Others intervene but in what a clumsy fashion:

--Perhaps they are profuse in threats. "If you do that, this will

happen." The child does the wrong and "this" does not

happen; the punishment threatened remains hanging in the

air. The child knowing what to expect is no longer impressed.

We must never make a threat we do not intend to carry out

when the infraction has been committed!

--Then again they may take to bargaining: "If you do that, I

will give you this present." Or they may stoop to argument to

force compliance:

"Louis, take your coat."

"But, Mamma it's not worth while."

"Yes it is; take it because it looks threatening. I looked at the

barometer and it's low."

"But, Mamma, I tell you it won't rain. . ."

"Thursday, you didn't have your coat and you were soaked to

the skin."

"Yes, but Sunday you made me wear it and it didn't rain . . ."

And so it goes on and on. . .

Then parents sometimes permit coaxing to lead them into

multiple concessions: A child may be convalescing and wants

something to eat which would harm him.

"No, you many not have it."

"Oh, yes Mamma, give it to me."

"You know very well the doctor said you should not have it."

"Only this once, I won't ask again."

"Well, just this once since you want it and because you are

sick but it will be your own fault if you get worse."

Who is to be pitied in all these instances? The child whose

every whim is satisfied? Or the parents whose inexperience or

weakness lead the child to the greatest dangers?

Lack of character in children is often the outgrowth of lack of

character in the parents. One can give only what one has.

IMPORTANT NEVERS

Never make a promise you don't intend to keep. It brings

discredit on you and teaches your child to lie.

Never shout. To rear a child you must control him. Now we

are controlled only by qualities we do not have ourselves, a

talent beyond our reach. If there is one quality a child does

not possesses, it is calm, which is the direct opposite of the

extreme mobility of his nature, his impulsive

impressionability. Calmness controls him, not shouting.

Never deceive: "Give me your whistle; you will see what fine

music I can make." The child with no defence gives you his

whistle and you put it in your pocket: "Now with the whistle

there, you can't annoy us anymore."

Or if you want the child to take some disagreeable medicine,

you may say "Oh but this is good! Drink it, you will see." The

child sips it and pushes away the deceiving cup. You have

failed him in your words. A few scenes of this kind and the

child will lose all confidence in those who speak to him. If we

wish to be believed, we must not abuse belief.

Never do yourself what the child with a little time and

ingenuity can do himself otherwise he will never learn to take

the initiative. On the contrary, confront him as soon as

possible and as often as possible with tasks that are beyond

him but which are capable of challenging him a bit so that he

learns to gauge his strength, to remain humble because of

non-success and eager for struggle because he wants to

conquer the obstacle.

Never tolerate backtalk to a command, or grumbling, or any

argument about it. Never take back a prohibition especially if

the child tries to work its recall by tears and coy

manoeuvering.

Never present a task to the child as beyond his capabilities as

"Could you do that? Don't you think you would be afraid to do

that?"--so that he gets the idea of a possible sidetracking of

the issue or a sliding out of it altogether. No, tell him

squarely what to do as if it were just an ordinary simple

matter. "Do this. Go there please." In this way the child will

not question his ability to do what is asked. If he says he

can't do it or shows that he can't do it, there will be time

enough to chide him for his cowardice or lack of nerve.

Never seem to attach importance to little scratches, bumps,

and bruises he gets (naturally proper attention should be paid

to real needs). The child often cries when he hurts himself

just to get attention, being pitied makes him a more

interesting individual. If you do not appear excited, he will

understand that it is useless to make a tragedy of the affair.

Care for the hurts that need care, and far from magnifying

the case, explain that it isn't anything much: "You will have

many others! Try to have more nerve about it!" The child

grows calm.

Never inflict a humiliating punishment in the presence of

others, except in the rare case that might need it to punish an

ineradicable pride. Aside from such a case, however, you

would be degrading a child beyond reason: "Look how ugly he

is!" "How clumsy you are! etc....Or what is worse--"Look at

your brother, see how good he is!" Such comparisons are

odious and only excite jealousy.

Never flatter either: "Isn't he darling!" The child knows it only

too well. Encourage him but don't praise him. To praise him is

to admire him for an advantage he has without merit on his

part; to encourage him is to congratulate him on meritorious

effort. Never tolerate the adulations of people who visit you

either.

TRAINING THE ADOLESCENT

To TRAIN little ones is difficult enough. When these little

ones grow up the difficulty of educating them grows with

them.

There is a particular age--between thirteen and seventeen--

when the rise of new energies generally produces a crisis.

The child is no longer a child; neither is he a grown-up. He is

in a period of transition which we must not fear but which we

must consider sympathetically; it is a time when we should

be ever ready to come to his help at opportune moments.

It is also a time when restraints weigh upon him. Until now

the child did not distinguish his individual identity much

from those about him. What they thought and felt he was

satisfied to feel and think in perfect harmony. But now his

personality is emerging. Before this it was indistinct. Oh yes,

at times traits of it would shine out and predict the future

character but it was only a faint sketch. Now the design takes

form and definite lines.

It is thrilling to see the dawn of manhood and womanhood in

the young as they rise up to meet life. It is depressing to

think of possible deformations! A design can so easily change

into a caricature!

There is no question now of a dead image on inert paper! We

are concerned with an animated potentiality, with an intense

dynamism--a soul seeking itself. It is like a person lost in the

night groping about here and there to find the right road. We

can speak to the adolescent, guide him, but nothing takes the

place of personal experience and it means much to allow the

young the liberty to try their luck.

Even as a baby, as soon as he takes his first steps, the child

uses all its baby strength to pull away from its mother. The

mother had until then held him in her arms. But one day she

put him down so that he could learn to stand and to put one

foot before the other. As soon as he learnt this new game the

little one is ready for his first expedition. And what mother,

even though she rejoices at the prowess of the young

explorer, does not suffer when she realizes that her arms and

her heart can no longer hold back this little conqueror

already setting out to meet life?

As the adolescent boy or girl grows older the span of their

investigation widens. There is the immense field of their own

individuality. How many realities, how many mysteries they

encounter at every step! Fortunate that youth who, avid until

now to ask questions, remains willing to ask some still! He

wants to learn certainly, even more than ever before, only he

wants to learn by himself so he withdraws into himself to

solve his problems. Who could ever know as he does his little

domain; he is jealous of it; he closes his arms about his

riches; he yields to no one the right to violate his treasure.

We should not be astonished at this but stimulate their

research unobtrusively, provide them, without appearing to

do so, with the means to solve their problems; we should not

pry into their confidence but rather cleverly inspire and

provoke it. Let them realize that mother and father

themselves formerly discovered this whole world that

challenges their discovery; that mother and father can

therefore serve as prudent but well-informed advisers to the

young novices of life.

Then there is the whole world outside of themselves--the

frame of their life, their surroundings, and other people; that

is quite a universe. What is the significance of such a smile,

such a silence, such an action? They thought everyone was

good--that was a mistake! They thought that life was

conquered without difficulty--they have to struggle hard: How

much work to learn the least thing!

And then the whole domain of religion. It was all so simple

formerly. Now there are problems on every side. And love?

This whole transformation that they sense within themselves?

Those impulses of feeling? Those sensations never before

experienced, organic phenomena whose nature and reason

they do not know?

We need great sympathy before their laborious and often

worried seeking and also much vigilance mingled with a

gentle firmness, high moral principles, and exceptional

psychological insight almost bordering on prophecy. Above

all we need much prayer.

Girls versus Boys (1)

THE training of adolescence ought to make much allowance

for the difference between the sexes and for the difference of

individual temperaments within each sex.

The boy as he grows older becomes more and more

individualistic. Everything exists for him. His little person

makes itself conspicuous without fear. He loves to make

noise not only because of his love for activity but also to

assert his presence. In games he likes to direct and if he

envisions the future he always sees himself in the role of a

leader....

He must be taught that other people exist and what is more,

that he has the duty not only to refrain from harming them

but to help them. Every opportunity for him to render service

should be used to advantage--to take care of his little sisters

gallantly and willingly, to run on errands for father or mother

or someone else in the household. The boy and later the man

is a great egoist. It is wise to counteract very early this

tendency of his to make himself the center of interest, to turn

his attention to careers of devoted self-sacrifice, to impress

him with the repercussions his actions have upon others and

to enlighten him on his duty to give much since he has

received much and to penetrate him with the realization that

he has a responsibility toward his own.

The little girl as she advances toward womanhood--and this

begins quite early--very quickly becomes conscious of

herself as part of a relationship. She feels herself physically

weaker than her brothers and her powers of feeling orientate

her even at that early age whether she is aware of it or not,

toward love--in the beginning toward the couple "mamma and

baby" but later toward the couple "husband and wife."

Much less individualistic than the boy--although she can be

so in her own way and sometimes fiercely so--she is above all

family-minded. She loves to rock the baby, to help her

mother. If she prefers one study more than another, history,

literature or mathematics, it is more often because of the

teacher who teaches it than the subject itself. Early in the

little girl's life are verified the words of George Sand

concerning woman, "Behind the things that she loves there is

always someone."

Because of the complexities of feeling, the education of the

adolescent girl is more delicate and more difficult than the

education of the adolescent boy. The boy is more heavy,

more blunt, more matter of fact, less given to fine

distinctions; the phenomena of puberty are more tardy in him

and are generally not at all or scarcely ever accompanied by

any fits of feeling but rather a mere hunger for sensations: he

is still the individualist.

Because of her periods, a phenomenon which often troubles

the adolescent girl even after its mysterious significance has

been chastely and adequately explained to her, she becomes

more curious and uneasy about all that bears on the problem

of life and is much more susceptible to emotional unbalance

and the fascination of abandoning herself to daydreams than

a boy of her age. If the adolescent boy is healthy, he doesn't

indulge in dreaming; he makes noise or pulls all kinds of

pranks. The girl, even when she loves study, loves still other

things and she is much attracted by the perspective of an

eventual giving of herself.

Beautiful is the task of giving her a clear idea of her essential

vocation; to guard her from false notions; to get her to be

diligent in the tasks of the moment, her house duties and

school assignments; to direct her need for unreserved giving

so that what is but a vague instinct within her becomes

translated into terms of clear duty; to impress her with the

immense responsibility of having been chosen to give life

unless God chooses her to renounce this power, for love of

Him, in virginity.

GIRLS VERSUS BOYS (2)

EVERYDAY experiences give many examples of the distinctive

differences between the two sexes especially during their

adolescence: the egocentric interests of the boy, the self-

radiating tendencies of the girl. The boy thinks about his

future exploits; the girl dreams of possible children. In the

one, love of glory; in the other love of love itself.

The following bit of conversation between two sisters is in

itself an amusing commentary on feminine adolescent

psychology.

--"What are you thinking of," the twelve year old asked her

fifteen year old sister, "of your future husband?"

--"A husband," protested the elder, "I am too young. I have a

lot of time before I begin thinking of a husband!"

--"Well then what are you thinking about?"

--"I was planning what kind of trimmings I would have on my

wedding dress."

Even when we take into account the differences created by

nature between boys and girls, we still must make allowances

for different temperaments within the sexes. Each child lives

in a world of his own, in a world that is strangely different

from the world of those about him. With one individual

maternal influence will have greater force; with another,

paternal influence. One child may have vigorous health,

whereas another is delicate. In the one a melancholy

temperament may predominate; in another, the exact

opposite, the sanguinic with extrovert tendencies

conspicuous. One child may be calm and poised; another, a

little bundle of nerves...Consequently, if the educator has but

one method of dealing with all, a single and only method, he

can expect to meet with disappointments.

However in providing for these individual differences a real

problem must be faced: It is not sufficient to correct the one

child and refrain from correcting the other; to congratulate

the one and ignore the success of the other and so on through

all the possible variations that might be in order. All this

must be done while preserving the impression of treating all

alike. If children perceive, as they sometimes do with reason,

that there is partiality shown to one or other of the family,

authority is broken down, jealousy enters and soon constant

wrangling results.

The ideal is to maintain poise, serenity, evenness of temper,

and a steadiness of behavior that nothing can upset.

Superiors of religious orders are advised to make use of a

practice which is beneficial for all--an honest examination

periodically of their faithful fulfilment of the trust confided

to them. Have I given evidence of any partiality or any

unjustifiable toleration of wrong? Have I seen to it that the

rules have been observed, the ways of customs of the order

and its holy traditions held in honor?

In what way are things not going as they should? One can

pass quickly over what is as it should be, thanking God

humbly for it but direct attention by choice to what is

defective and faulty to determine to make the necessary

corrections either in one's person or one's work. Mussolini's

comment has a point here: "It is useless to tell me about what

is going along well. Speak to me immediately of what is going

badly."

If only parents would make it a habit to practice this counsel

suggested to monks: Stop a moment to observe the train pass;

look to see if the lighting functions, if the wheels are well

oiled, if there is any need to fear for the connections. People

do that from time to time in regard to their personal life and

we call it a Retreat. It is strongly advisable to make a retreat

to examine oneself on the conduct and management of the

home, of one's profession; such a retreat should be

sufficiently frequent to prevent painful surprises.

Our Lord said that when one wishes to build a tower, he sits

down to calculate the cost and requirements for a solid

structure. What a tower is the Christian home! That is

something to construct! How necessary are foundations that

will not crumble, materials that will hold solidly! How

essential an able contractor, attention to every detail, care to

check every stone, exactitude in the measurements for every

story . . . !

Perhaps I have forgotten to sit down . . . to calculate . . . to get

on my knees. There is still time!

A FATHER'S LETTER

RACINE the great classic dramatist wrote a letter to his son

urging him to complete fidelity in his religious duties and to

love for the interior life.

"You beg me to pray for you. If my prayers were good for

anything you would soon be a perfect Christian, who hoped

for nothing with more ardor than for his eternal salvation. But

remember, my Son, that the father and mother pray in vain

for their children if the children do not remember the

training their parents gave them. Remember, my Son, that

you are a Christian, and think of all that character makes of

obligation for you, all the passions it requires you to

renounce. For what would it benefit you to acquire the esteem

of men if you would jeopardize your soul? It will be the

height of my joy to see you working out your salvation. I hope

for it by the grace of Our Lord."

When Racine was thirty-eight and at the height of his power,

his religious directors through the misguided zeal of their

Jansenistic spirit commanded him to give up writing for the

theatre which he did with untold pain. Consequently, when he

spoke to his son of the practice of renunciation, he could

speak with authority.

Especially sensitive to physical suffering, he accepted

sickness humbly and generously: "I have never had the

strength to do penance; what an advantage then for me that

God has had the mercy to send me this."

It is a great grace for children to have a father who teaches

the divine law with firmness, and who moreover lives this

divine life, joining personal example to precept.

Am I sufficiently attentive to give my children the

supernatural equipment they need? Am I sufficiently careful

about that still more important duty of giving them a good

example always and in everything.

If there was too much severity in Racine's manner it was due

to his own training at Port-Royal, the Jansenist center. When

his brother Lionval was only five years old he insisted that he

would never go to the theatre for fear of being damned.

Madelon, at ten years had to observe Lent to the very end

even though she felt ill because of it. The mother kept them

in step. Did she not command young Louis Racine who had

indulged in writing about twelve stanzas of poetry on the

death of a dog to betake himself to Boileau for a good

scolding?

There must be no exaggeration in the exercise of authority; it

would no longer be Christian in character but an erroneous

way of understanding the morality and perfection of the

Gospel. It is essential to retain a zealous will on the part of

the children and a courageous practice of generosity. We

must however always remember that they are children and

not impose upon them too heavy a yoke thereby running the

danger of giving them an incorrect idea of religion or of

disgusting them even with its most balanced practice.

We must be mindful too that some day they will be

confronted with fearful difficulties. They will need a training

that is not harsh but strong otherwise we can fear shipwreck

or at least ineffective returns.

If my profession or my health prevent me from fasting, am I

careful to get a dispensation, to substitute another

mortification for it, to manifest an exemplary moderation on

all occasions, in general, a real detachment from food and

body comforts; to deny myself amusements that might prove

dangerous?

MISUNDERSTOOD CHILDREN

ANDRE BERGE in his book on "Bewildered Youth" gives us the

story of a young man who had been left completely to

himself by his parents. Taken up with their own affairs,

business and pleasure, these parents let their son grow up

with no concern at all for his soul, his ambitions, his

difficulties, his temptations, his failings.

At first, the youth relished this liberty which he interpreted

as reserve on the part of his parents. But soon he came to

realize that it was nothing more than cowardice,

abandonment of duty and flagrant desertion of obligation on

their part; he was living in the home but was not of the home-

-a mere boarder in a hotel. As soon as he was out of his

childhood, they showed no more care for him; he found

himself confronting life alone, confused, cut off. He should

have been able to expect counsel, affection, protection, light.

Nothing of the sort did he receive. Instead he met with

selfishness; faced by loneliness, life began to pall upon him;

he had no one to untangle his problems, no one to point out

definite steps to follow on the bewildering way.

Unable to bear living any longer in this way with no vital ties

binding him to those who should have been nearest to him,

he decided to break all connections, to go away. Material

separation from his own would but serve to accentuate the

separation of their souls.

He left this note as an explanation of his conduct and a

reproach for theirs:

"To my parents,

"Why do you desert me? You do not understand that I am

stifled between these walls and that my heart is bursting. Do

you not understand that I am growing up and that life is

calling me, that I am alone all day with its voice? You who

could have so lovingly directed me in life, why do you

abandon me?

"Well, so much the worse, I will meet life alone. I am so far

from you already through your fault."

How heavy the obligations of parents! Let us not consider

now the case of grossly selfish parents as described in the

preceding story. We shall consider parents who are concerned

about accomplishing their mission.

Are they not in danger of two extremes in the fulfilment of

their duty: either to exaggerate their control or to exaggerate

their reserve.

If they try to exercise too much control over the young

adventurers in freedom who are making ready for their first

flights will they not incur the blame of tyranny, excessive

watchfulness and supervision?

If, on the other hand, they try to avoid this reproach, are they

not going to lack firmness? By trying to win confidence

through a gentleness that gives free rein are they not going to

see all the restraints which they deem good broken down and

the advice they judge opportune utterly ignored?

How have I succeeded in this problem of training? Do I steer

my bark with proper mastery? The reefs are many; a solid

craft is needed, a steady hand at the helm. Am I acquainted

with the route, the true merits of my crew?

My God grant me the grace to know how to rear my little

world as you want me to; to know how to form each of my

children according to Your plans; to know how to attain

balance in sharpness, firmness and restraint. Grant that the

youth formed in my home may never be confused, lost before

life but rather know always where to find counsel, support,

the warmth of love and guidance, an understanding and

patient heart that can give help with enlightened insight.

A DEFAULTING FATHER

A RELIGIOUS was trying to extricate a young man of twenty-

two from a distressing and almost insurmountable difficulty;

the young man wrote him the following explanation for

falling so low:

". . . I was endowed as any normal person and would have

been able to succeed in my studies as any one else but for

some wretched habits--and I say these words, trembling with

a powerless rage--wretched habits which came to poison the

work of God. A cousin and a friend bear with me the

responsibility for the first steps toward those devastating

sensations that enkindled the odious flame which in turn

upset my mental and physical health. No more willpower or

rather no more strength despite good will; no more memory;

all these results followed in succession. I blame my parents

especially my father who had given up all religious practices.

He never spoke to me with a view to understanding me; never

did we have the least conversation which could indicate any

common bond of ideas or feeling; he fed my body, that is

all...."

What a terrible indictment are these words! How they prove

the necessity of watching the associations of the children,

their work, the reasons for their laziness; the importance of

keeping their confidence, of knowing how to win that

confidence; of showing them understanding and a willingness

to help; of giving them an assurance of victory.

"I was endowed as any normal person and would have been

able to succeed." Nothing more readily weakens the resilience

of the powers of the mind and the heart than lust. What the

young man said is exactly true; he had abandoned himself to

impurity, he lost the keenness of his intelligence, the

retentiveness of his memory and a relish for effort. Even

grave physical injuries sometimes result. "Devastating

sensations" and "the odious flame" quickly depleted and

consumed vital energies.

"A cousin and a friend." How absolutely necessary is vigilance

over the friendships that circumstances and relationships

often provide, and sometimes alas that certain corrupted

individuals seek to establish to give vent to their secret taste

for perversion.

If the child had confided in someone at the onset of the first

serious difficulties! But nothing in the attitude of the parents

invited confidence, a request for enlightenment, a humble

avowal of imprudence or faults already committed. How

many children, how many youths yearn to speak! Someone,

their father or mother or a director must take the first step.

Nothing happens. Nobody imagines that they want help;

nobody deigns to interest themselves in them. The mother is

absorbed in her worldliness or completely oblivious of their

needs; the father is wrapped up in his business; the spiritual

director if they have one at all does not find the time or the

means to help . . .

And the child, the young boy or the young girl carries the

weight of inward suffering and is stifled by it.

"I blame my parents . . . never did my father speak to me with

a view to understanding me; never did we have the least

conversation which could indicate any common bond of ideas

or feeling; he fed my body, that is all."

Did this father realize that even while he was nourishing the

body of his son, he was contributing to the death of his soul

by a double sin of omission! He did not help his son in his

moral life when he needed it; he gave him a very bad example

by openly abandoning the Christian law.

Such sins are paid for and paid for painfully. How prevent

lack of training and mistakes of training from producing their

disastrous effects?

To develop the body is fine, commendable, and a duty. Even

more important is it to develop the soul, to protect it, to

strengthen it, to uplift it.

A MOTHER TO HER SON

WHEN Leon Bloy was about twenty years old, he fell into one

of those crises not uncommon in youth, particularly in youth

whose environment brings contact with unbelievers and

persons of loose morals, and he drifted from his religion. He

was wretchedly unhappy besides, unhappy because of the

very direction he was taking; but an involuntary confusion

and probably a certain amount of wilful pride prevented him

from breaking with doubt to return to the path of light.

The mother read her son's soul clearly. She did not reproach

him, nor did she speak to him exclusively nor immediately of

his religious problem; she attributed his interior troubles to

different causes of an inferior order which more than likely

played a part in his wretchedness. She wrote to him:

"How is it my dear child that you do not write to us. I feel

heavy hearted because of it for I am sure that you do not

realize what is taking place in your poor soul; all kinds of

things are conflicting within it--it is ardent and lacks the

nourishment proper to it; you turn from one side to the other

and you cannot tell what really bothers you. Ah! poor child,

be calm, reflect. It is not that you feel your future lost or

compromised; at your age one cannot have established his

future or despaired of it; it is not for most persons your age

still uncertain. No, it is not that, Your work, your studies do

not show sufficient progress? Why? Perhaps because you

want to do too many things at once; you are too impatient.

No, not that either? Your mind is willing enough but your

heart and your soul are suffering; they have so many

yearnings that you are scarcely aware of, and their unease

and their suffering react upon your mind sapping from it

necessary strength and attention.

"You are suffering, you are unhappy. I feel all that you

experience and yet I am powerless to console you, to

encourage you much as I should love to do so. Ah! that we

might have the same convictions! Why have you rejected the

faith of your childhood without a profound examination of

your reason for and against it? The statements of those whom

faith irritates or who have no religion for lack of instruction

have made an impression on your young imagination; but

just the same your heart needs a center that it will never find

on earth. It is God, it is the infinite you need and all your

yearnings are driving you there. You belong to that select

number of elect to whom God communicates Himself and in

whose regard He is prodigal of his love when once they have

consented to humble themselves by submitting to the

obscurities of faith."

What a frightening duty mothers have! To bring forth the

bodies of their children is a beautiful ministry; to rear their

souls is an even greater ministry.

What anguish for a mother when a grown child, a son in early

manhood or a daughter in early womanhood cuts loose from

faith, and considers God lightly! If ever she feels that she has

lost her hold over her son or daughter, that they are escaping

her, it is when she sees them follow the paths of doubt or fall

under the spell of the intoxicating enchantments of flirtation.

A mother must continue to bring forth her children all her

life. In this sense they are always her little ones. Not that she

makes them feel their bonds of dependence any longer but

that she watches over them. And she prays! Except for a brief

reminder from time to time, the clear statement of her hopes

joined to the definite but loving message of the father, an

occasional letter in which true principles are recalled, the

chief role of a mother whose adult child has strayed is prayer,

patient waiting and sacrifice--the persevering effort to

become a saint.

What if she were to die before she sees the return of the

Prodigal? What if the Child were to die before she has seen

him "return"?

She should not be discouraged. Can we know the mystery of

souls? Can we know what takes place in the last moments?

Can we know what goes on within when the exterior reveals

nothing? Can we know the value of a mother's tears? Monica

will continue to the end of time to convert Augustine; but

Monica must be a saint.

TICK TOCK

THE mother of Cardinal Vaughan had fourteen children--eight

boys and six girls. Remarkable educator that she was, she

believed that she owed the best part of her time to her little

world.

The children's special room looked like the nave of a Church

for each little boy and girl had his statue to care for and they

never failed to put flowers before it on special occasions.

With what art this mother settled a quarrelsome boy or a vain

or untruthful little girl! With the littlest ones she was not

afraid to become a little one and like them to sit on the

ground. Thus, placed on their level, as the biography of her

Jesuit son expresses it, she used to put her watch to their ears

and explain to them that some day God would stop the tick

tock of their lives and that He would call to Himself in heaven

His children whom He had lent to earth.

In the course of the day, Mrs. Vaughan loved to pick our one

or other of her band, preferably two, chosen on the basis of

their earnest efforts or some particular need for

improvement, and make a visit to Church. Yes, they should

pray at home too; they had God in their hearts; but in each

village or in each section of town, there is a special house

generally of stone where Our Lord lives as He once lived at

Nazareth except that now He remains hidden under the

appearances of a little Host. She explained to them that

prayer consists not in reciting set words but in conversing

with Jesus. And if they had been very very good she would let

them kiss the altar cloth and sometimes the altar itself, a

favor the children regarded as most precious. When they had

beautiful flowers in their green house they brought them to

Church; happy and proud were the ones who were entrusted

with delivering the bouquets or the vases of flowers!

Besides the visits made to "Jesus, the Head" there were also

visits to the "members of Jesus," "What you do to the least of

My brethren you do to me." And Mrs. Vaughan explained to

each child according to its capacity to understand the great

duty of charity and the reason for this duty. She did not

hesitate to take them into sordid homes. Sometimes people

were horrified to see her take the children to see the sick who

suffered from a contagious disease. Wasn't she afraid her

children would contract it? But kind, firm Mrs. Vaughan did

not allow herself to be the least disturbed by such comments.

"Sickness? Well if one of them contracted a sickness while

visiting the poor, that would still not be too high a price to

pay for Christian charity. Besides God will protect my

children much better than mother-love can."

Here was true formation in piety, true formation in charity.

Here too was encouragement to follow a high ideal.

Herbert, the eldest of the boys, was once quite concerned

over a hunting trip that the weather threatened to spoil. "Pray

mamma," he said, "that we have good weather!"

And Mrs. Vaughan more concerned to lift her son's soul than

to secure him a pleasurable time answered smilingly, "I shall

pray that you will be a priest!" How the boy took such an

answer at the moment is not recorded. We do know this:

Herbert was . . . the future Cardinal!

Mrs. Vaughan also gave her children an appreciation of the

fine arts. She herself played the harp delightfully. From time

to time she gathered her household about her for a gala time

playing, singing, and a bit of mimicry; she always used the

occasion to remind the children that there are other melodies

and other joys more beautiful than those of earth.

TRAINING IN GENEROSITY

THE child is instinctively selfish, but he easily learns

generosity.

His training should be directed toward it.

Little Rose of Lima's childhood was marked by a series of

accidents, maladies, and sufferings which the crude

treatment of that time often aggravated rather than relieved.

When only three months old she crushed her thumb under a

trunk lid and the nail had to be removed. She also had to

undergo an ear operation which was followed by a skin

disease that began on her head; her mother treated it with a

salve which burnt her so severely that the surgeon had to

treat her for weeks, removing proud flesh so that the healthy

skin could heal.

Thanks to her mother's exhortations, this little girl of four

years bore the cruel pain with an astonishing calmness and in

perfect silence. Are not the staggering mortifications we see

her imposing on herself later due to her early training?

Like all little girls, she was vain and took considerable care of

her hair which was very beautiful. Her brother used to throw

mud at it and get it all dirty just to tease her. Rose became

very angry, but the brother, recalling perhaps some sermon

he had heard, assumed a preaching tone on one of these

occasions and said to her solemnly, "Take care, vanity will be

your ruin; the curled hair of girls are cords from hell which

bind the hearts of men and drag them into the eternal

flames."

Rose did not answer, but bit by bit began to understand . . .

and she detached herself. That detachment prepared her for

greater sacrifices and soon we see her offering her virginity

to God.

Jacqueline was another little girl, a little girl of our own day,

who learned the lesson of sacrifice. She was sick and

suffering much. "Oh, I believe nobody has ever had pain like

mine!"

--"Where does it hurt?" she was asked.

--"In my stomach, in my head, everywhere!"

--"Think of St. Francis who had a red hot iron applied to his

eyes as a treatment. . ."

This time her attention was caught. She forgot her own

misery to sympathize with her dear saint whom people had

hurt.

--"Did they cure him after all that?"

Guy de Fontgalland had to have many strychnine injections

in his leg.

--"Offer it to Jesus, my darling," suggested his mother. "He

was crowned with thorns for love of you."

--"Oh yes, that is true and He kept the thorns in His head

while they quickly removed the needle from my leg."

A mother had three children; the oldest was four, the second,

three, and the baby, twenty months. It was Good Friday. Why

not encourage them to offer Jesus on the Cross some little

sacrifice which would cost them a little?

--"My children, I will not deprive you of your chocolate candy

at lunch today; but little girls who love Jesus will know

themselves how to sacrifice their chocolate."

She made no further reference to it. None of the children

answered. That evening the mother was very much moved to

see the three chocolate bars at the foot of the Crucifix. Our

Lord must have smiled at the childish offering; one of the

candy bars bore the teeth marks of the baby who had

hesitated before the offering and begun to nibble on her

chocolate.

These stories of successful lessons in generosity are

encouraging. What others have achieved, can I not achieve

too?

MOTHERS AND VOCATIONS

WHEN Motta was elected to the Swiss Federal Council his first

act was to send this telegram to his mother: "To my venerated

mother, who remaining a widow while I was still a child,

engraved in my heart the concept of duty by teaching me that

duty dominates all interests, all selfishness, all other

concerns."

To be sure God remains the Master of vocations. Motta was

not entering upon Holy Orders. His providential position was

to be quite different and very fruitful besides.

What is certain is that never--or shall we say rarely, very

rarely--is a vocation born into a family unless the mother has

inculcated in her children a sense of duty and a habit of

sacrifice. Of course, all children who receive a strong

supernatural training do not enter the priesthood or religious

life, but no child enters upon any career calling for great self-

sacrifice, prescinding some unusual influence which is rare,

if he does not acquire early in life a solid spirit of

renunciation and generosity in the accomplishment of duty.

On the other hand, where mothers know how to go about

teaching and above all practicing complete fidelity to duty

and total renunciation, where they always put the

supernatural love of God before material love for their

children, Our Lord finds it easy to choose His privileged

souls.

Monsignor d'Hulst said many a time to Abbe Leprince, "It

takes a truly Christian mother to make a good priest. The

seminary polishes him off but does not give him the

substance, the sacerdotal spirit."

All things considered, that holds true for novitiates and

religious life. Nothing replaces family training, above all the

influence of the mother. But that training and that influence

must be wholly supernatural.

Madame Acarie, foundress of a French Carmelite Convent

where she was known as Sister Marie of the Incarnation,

strove earnestly to rear her six children for God. She

explained to them: "I would not hesitate to love a strange

child more than you if his love for God were greater than

yours."

However, individual free will always remains and God is

Always Master of His gifts. That thought ought to calm the

fear--unjustifiable as it is but humanly understandable--of

certain mothers who think, "If I conduct my home along lines

too thoroughly Christian, if I instill into my children too

strong a habit of the virtues which lead to total renunciation,

to an all embracing zeal, I shall see my sons and daughters

renouncing marriage one by one and setting off for the

priesthood or the convent."

If that were to happen, where would be the harm? But that

rarely happens in practice. Furthermore, is marriage a state of

life that does not require a sense of duty or abnegation?

Let there be no anxiety on this score but perfect peace. The

important thing now is not that God might choose so-and-so

but that the home give Our Lord maximum glory; that each

child whatever its destiny serve an apprenticeship in

generosity and the true spirit of the Gospel. Everything else

as far as the future is concerned should be left to God.

PRIESTS IN THE FAMILY

THE supreme honor for Christian families is to give priests to

God. The father can do much to inspire a priestly vocation

but the mother who is often closer to the children can do

more. For this she needs a priestly soul, a gift that is not so

rare in mothers as one might believe. "There are," said Rene

Bazin, "mothers who have a priestly soul and they give it to

their children."

The lack of priests is a terrible sickness of the world today, a

sickness that is growing worse. The war has depleted their

number and the absence of priestly influence in many

parishes before and during the war has damaged more than

one vocation.

It is necessary that Christian families desire to give priests to

the Church; that they beg God for the grace to prepare to the

best of their ability for the eventual flowering of the

priesthood.

Christian families should desire to give priests: Such a desire

presupposes a profound esteem for the priesthood on the

part of the parents. What a pity it is when a child who

broaches the subject of becoming a priest meets with his

father's unreasonable anger, "If you mention vocation to me

again, I'm going to strangle your confessor for it!" Can there

be any greater blessing than a priest in a family?

Christian families should pray: A priestly vocation is a

supernatural favor; prayer is essential to obtain it. God's gifts

are free, that is true, but we know that He makes some of His

choice graces depend upon the prayers of His friends.

Christian families should prepare for vocations: Parents

should know how to detect the germs of a vocation. "I hear

the grain growing," said an old peasant as he walked about in

his field. No one can better read the soul of a child than the

mother. "I know him through and through as if I had made

him." This rather common but profound statement expresses

very well the sort of intuition mothers have for all that

concerns their child. Although the boy himself may not have

discovered the divine germ, the mother, if she is keen and

close to God, has been able to discern it.

How then help this germ to bud?

Help it gently, for there must be no pressure brought to bear

upon the child. Suggest, yes; force, no.

Inspire great esteem for the priesthood. Consider a priest's

visit to the home as a privilege and a festive occasion. "From

the age of seven," declared Father Olier, the founder of the

Sulpicians, "I had such an esteem for a priest that in my

simple childish mind I believed them no longer human."

When asked the source of his great esteem, he said, "From my

father and my mother."

"Dear child, since you love to go to church so much and since

you are so good in public speaking, you ought to become a

priest," suggested the father to his son, the future martyr,

Blessed Perboyre.

Often the mother has quicker insight and longer-ranged

vision. The father sometimes resists the vocation of his child.

Such was the case with Saint Francis de Sales and Saint

Alphonsus Ligouri. The father of Saint Alphonsus refused to

speak to him for a whole year.

Sometimes though the father is the one who inspires the love

for the priesthood. At the time of the confiscation of Church

property in 1905 in France, a father perched his son on his

shoulders to watch the pillage of the churches to incite in

him a desire to become a defender of the Church later and if

possible a priest.

Madame de Quelen did not hesitate to bring her son to the

prison of the Carmelite priests to visit the priests interned

there. The bishop later chose the Church of this Carmelite

prison for his See.

If a child seems drawn to the priesthood show him the high

motives that can lead him to embrace such a calling--the

desire to imitate Our Lord and the desire to save souls.

What a reward the parents reap at their son's ordination or on

the day of their death. That repays them for all the sacrifices

they willingly made; repays them with interest.

THE MOTHER OF A SAINT

MADAME DE BOISY, the mother of Saint Francis de Sales,

brought many precious virtues with her to the chateau of

Thorens in Savoy where her husband lived. Unassuming and

kind, she considered the village households around her estate

almost as part of her family; she showed concern for their

poverty and sufferings, settled their differences and

exercised a control over them that was highly successful for

the simple reason that she was careful not to make a show of

it. Watchful to see that her servants were truly a part of the

family, she encouraged them, without constraining them, to

practice their faith and offered to read spiritual books to

them herself after the evening meal; she invited all of them

to attend the family prayer.

Unfortunately her marriage promised to be sterile. At Annecy

in a church dedicated to Our Lady of Liesse, she begged God

to give her a son, promising to "exercise all her care to make

him worthy of heaven." On August 1567, Francis de Sales was

born. He was so frail a child that all feared for his life.

As he grew older, the child had no greater delight than to

show kindness to the unfortunate and to distribute among the

poor the delicacies his mother gave him for this purpose. It is

said of him that by way of thanking his mother he promised

her, "When I am my own master, I will give you a beautiful red

silk dress every year."

At the same time she was training her little boy to almsgiving,

Madame de Sales was also educating him to love of God and

to sacrifice.

Soon the hour of separation struck. The child had to leave for

the school of La Roche and later for the College at Annecy. He

was beloved by all, excused the faults of his comrades and

one day even took a whipping in place of his cousin Gaspard

de Sales. Shortly after his First Holy Communion he told his

mother that he wanted to receive the tonsure some day and

that therefore she ought to have his beautiful blond curls cut

now.

Francis had two brothers. To characterize them and himself,

he developed a comparison between the trio and the

seasoning of a salad: "Jean-Francis with his violent temper

furnishes the vinegar; Louis with his wisdom the salt; and I,

the good-natured chubby Francis, put in the oil because I love

mildness."

Francis possessed a secret of which his mother was the

confidant: He wanted to be a priest at any cost. Madame de

Sales shared his dream and upheld her son in it. After six

years at Jesuit schools and colleges accompanied by

outstanding success he entered the University of Padua. Here

he astonished his professors with the brilliant way he

defended his thesis although he was scarcely twenty-four at

the time.

The father already envisioned his son as a great lawyer, then

a senator, and the founder of a fine family, but Francis,

enlightened by a providential experience he had one day

while riding through a forest, decided not to delay his

consecration to God any longer.

His father objected. The mother intervened: "Can we dispute

with God over a soul He wants for His service?" Secretly she

had clerical clothes made for Francis. The post of provost of

the Cathedral Chapter became vacant. The father finally gave

in and on June 8, 1593, Francis was ordained to the

diaconate. In the opinion of his father, who missed the joy of

seeing him a bishop, Francis preached too much and didn't

put in enough Greek and Latin when he did preach. But

Francis knew how to talk to souls as his famous missions at

Chablais strikingly demonstrated. Rich and poor besieged his

confessional.

On December 8, 1602, Francis, who was then thirty-five gave

his first episcopal blessing to his mother, who soon put

herself under his spiritual direction. One of the last joys of

this noble mother was to read her son's "Introduction to

Devout Life," a book which met with spectacular success.

A stroke brought the saint's mother to the point of death. The

holy bishop of Annecy came hurriedly to her bedside. She

recognized him, took his hand and kissed it, then putting up

her arms to draw his head closer to her to kiss him, she said,

"You are my father and my son!"

Francis closed her eyes at death. Broken by sorrow, he wrote

to Madame de Chantel, "It has pleased God to take from this

world our very good and very dear mother in order to have

her, as I strongly hope, at His right hand, since she was one of

the sweetest and most innocent souls that could be found."

Sons are worth what their mothers are worth.

PARENTS OF SAINTS

SAINT FRANCIS DE SALES was the first child of Madame de

Boisy. Saint Paul of the Cross was the first of sixteen children.

The saint in the family is not always the oldest. Saint Bernard

was the third of seven. Saint Thomas Aquinas was the sixth

child in the family. Saint Therese of the Child Jesus was the

last of nine children. Saint Ignatius of Loyola the last of

thirteen.

What glory would have been lost to the Church if the parents

of these children had consulted their selfishness rather than

their duty of parenthood and had left buried in the realms of

nothingness these little beings destined to become saints! It

brings to mind the conversation between two women, the one

voluntarily sterile, the other surrounded by fine children. The

first woman explained to the second that she just couldn't be

tied down. The second responded with the classic argument:

"And suppose that your father and mother had reasoned like

that, where would you be?"

The saints are rarely only children for two reasons: The first,

that there cannot be any sanctity without a habit of

renunciation and this habit is much more readily acquired in

a large family where each one must forget self to think of

others; where the rubbing of character against character

whittles down selfishness; where the parents do not have

time to overwhelm their offspring with a foolish indulgence

that spoils them. The second, that God gives the grace of a

holy call, by preference, where there is an integral practice of

virtue, where virtue is held in honor, where the parents do not

fear difficulty but trust in Divine Providence.

Saint Vincent de Paul was one of five children and Saint

Vincent Ferrer, one of eight, Saint Aloysius Gonzaga, Blessed

Perboyre, Saint Bernadette were each, one of eight children.

In the family of the Cure of Ars there were six children; in

that of Saint Margaret Mary Alacoque, seven; in that of Saint

Benedict Joseph Labre, fifteen. In the family of Saint

Catherine of Siena, there were twenty-two children of the

same marriage. And how many more examples we could still

find!

There is a charming Breton legend that carries an equally

charming lesson. One day Amel, the fisherman, and his wife

Penhov, who used to bring fresh fish to the monks, had left

with their child to bring in the nets. They were overtaken by

the tide. The water rose higher and higher and higher. "Wife,

this is our last hour; put your two feet on my shoulders; in

this way you will hold out longer....and love my memory."

Penhov obeyed. Amel sunk into the sand like a post driven in

with a hammer. Penhov seized the child and lifting it above

her said, "Put your two feet on my shoulders; in this way you

will hold out longer. And love deeply the memory of your

father and mother." The mother too sank beneath the water

and soon only the golden hair of the child floated on the

water. An angel of God passed by. He seized the child's hair

and pulled. "My, how heavy you are!" Another blond head

appeared, that of Penhov who had not let go of her boy's feet.

"How heavy you both are!" Then Amel appeared for he had

not let go of his wife's feet.... By the child the father and

mother had been saved!

Who knows whether or not some parents will enter Paradise

because an angel has seized their child by the hair! What a

beautiful letter of introduction for Heaven is a child and

above all a canonized child!

TRAINING IN CHARITY

JEANNE-ANCELOT-HUSTACHE gives us a picture of her little

daughter Jacqueline in the book entitled "The Book of

Jacqueline."

She is a well-endowed child; she is made much of, in fact, too

much petted by her grandmother, by her father, by her sister

who is extremely proud of her and by all the guests of the

home. She is in danger of becoming a charming little self-

centered individual as so many children are.

Happily, attentive care watches over her and strives to give

the child the spirit of charity, love for the poor, for children,

for the weak and the suffering. Little by little, Jacqueline

opens her heart to this love, toward the suffering of the

world.

She finds exquisite words, unexpected delicacy in greeting

people, in thanking them, and in easing every wound that she

guesses with a subtle and tender intuition. She is

embarrassed rather than triumphant because of the special

advantages she has over companions who are less gifted,

poorer and less endowed. She pities the poor beggar on the

boulevard; she brightens the lives of the aged sick in the

hospice of Ligny with her refreshing graciousness. At seven

years this is how she prays to the Blessed Virgin for an

unfortunate servant:

"O my Mother, my Mother, please deliver Yvonne. The poor

little one. Nobody wants her. Her father doesn't want her, her

mother is now far from her. She stole, she is in prison, she is

sad and never will any one take her from it, never until her

death; I alone on earth love her, I love her because she seems

to say to me, 'If they would let me alone with you, I would

never do anything bad.'"

"I alone on earth, I love her." That is the answer of Jacqueline

to the secret appeal of the merciful Christ: She will give

herself entirely to those who have no one to love them; she

will be their Sister of Charity, their Little Sister of the Poor,

their Sister of Mercy.

The hour of God for this privileged child was to come in an

unexpected way. She was to die while still very young and she

was to go to the Christ of the extended Arms, the Christ who

loves little children who are charitable and pure.

What an advantage for the child's later life, if the parents

have succeeded in making it alert to the refinements of

charity, to a concern for the needs of the world.

They do not lack opportunities. Perhaps mother and child are

taking a walk. Here comes a poor grandmother, gathering

dead branches, leading along an emaciated, sickly child.

"Suppose we go to their aid?" suggests the mother to her little

one.

Christmas comes. In many families some good little children

will have nothing, not the smallest present. Their papa is too

poor; he earns just enough to provide bread to his household.

Playthings? By no means; playthings cost too much. "Suppose

we bring them that doll you don't play with anymore. Mother

will dress it again so that it will look fine." Or, "Suppose you

look for that mechanical horse you relegated to the attic.

Papa will repair it so that it will seem like new."

Then there are the Missions. A terrible flood in some land has

been reported. How many people are suffering! Let us fix up a

bank into which each one can put his little alms! When we

have a nice sum, we can send it over there. Or perhaps there

is an occasion to ransom a little pagan baby so that it can be

reared as a Christian. The opportunity to explain that

spiritual alms are superior to material alms should not be

passed by.

Once a child's eyes have been opened, how well it will know

how to be good!

TRAINING IN SOCIAL RESPONSIBILITY (1)

To AWAKEN the child to solicitude for the poor and the

wretched is a splendid thing. However parents do not fulfil

their whole duty, if they fail to give it a sense of

responsibility for the common good and a true concept of

cooperation.

Instinctively the child refers everything to its own small

personal interest. If it is not taught very early to concern

itself for others, it will be in danger of becoming narrow and

selfish, of being forever oblivious to the general welfare, in

other words, of never achieving a social sense.

While the child is very young this training will not consist in

formal instructions but rather in a constant directing of

attention on a thousand different occasions to the fact of

having to be concerned about others. It will be taught to go

upstairs without making a noise because mamma is resting;

not to slam the doors because little brother or little sister is

asleep; not to play noisily near papa's study. The child will

learn very early in this way the social consequences of its

actions.

The child may be with the whole family to meet someone at

the station; the parents will have a fine opportunity to show it

how selfish it is to stand directly in door ways and passages

as it loves to do, since that obstructs the entrances and exits

for people coming in from trains or those who merely wish to

leave that way.

If a little girl accompanies her mother on a shopping trip, she

can be taught not to ask the clerk to display more goods than

necessary because it will all have to be refolded and replaced

after she leaves.

At basketball or football, it is not so important to be a star

player oneself as to bring the team to victory. It is true

sportsmanship and true nobility to renounce a personal

triumph by passing the ball to a fellow player who will assure

the victory because he is in a better position or better

qualified.

"Point out to us the lessons of the football game," a young

sportsman asked his older friend. And he gave the one that

extols the virtue of renunciation: "I will pass my chance to

him"--the sacrifice of selfish or vain calculating with a view

to the result for the whole.

The child can be shown that when there is question of

committing an infraction of discipline in school, he ought to

avoid it not so much because of the effect on the teacher--"He

who budges will have to deal with me"--but rather the

disturbance it causes for his comrades whose attention is

distracted and progress retarded. Discipline was not invented

for the comfort of the teacher but for the good of the pupils.

In this way, theoretical teaching is preceded by the practical

background of the child in an atmosphere of cooperation, of

social interchange of help. Every occasion for practice of this

type should be accompanied by an explanation that later they

must always act with like consideration in the office, the

factory, the army or in whatever community they may be.

Once the children are old enough to understand more theory,

every opportunity to instill doctrine should be seized: An

international problem arises: Selfishness or mutual help?

What does the Church say on this point? What does the

Gospel say? Or perhaps it is a problem of relations between

employer and workers, a strike in the father's factory or in

the city. Here too, what does the Church say? What does the

Gospel command. Selfishness or reciprocal understanding?

Trained in this fashion the young will be ready and quick to

understand the social or international doctrine of the Church

when they are old enough to be taught it academically. They

will not oppose correct principles, as they only too often do

with a wall of prejudices or pseudo-traditions, when their

religion or philosophy teachers explain them.

Training in Social Responsibility (2)

WE HAVE accomplished a good deal if we have accustomed

the child to put itself as much as possible "in the place of

others." "If I were in such and such a situation, what would I

do, what would I think?" We are all wrapped up in ourselves

as in a cocoon, the child more than anyone else; particularly

if it has been coddled, if it has been born into a family that is

comfortably fixed, if it gets accustomed or others make it

accustomed to being waited on.

The child must be encouraged to wait on itself and to give

service. If for any reason the mother needs to hire help, that

is no reason for the child to monopolize such help to its own

comfort; it should never be permitted to give direct orders to

domestic help.

As much as possible, especially in the case of little girls, the

child should be given the opportunity to do many little tasks

that make family life run more smoothly: to set the table, to

dust up a room, to arrange a bouquet, to take care of the

baby. Such assignments should not be presented to them as

burdensome tasks but as an aid toward the common good, a

lightening of mamma's work so that they are joyful about it

even if it demands an effort, upsets their well-laid plans or

requires a sacrifice. Often the child will be delighted, proud

of its importance. However care must be taken to appeal not

to vanity but to responsibility.

A delicate point to consider is the question of friendships.

Should the child be permitted to associate with children who

are not as we say of their class? They will meet in school. If

these possible friends are morally good and well-mannered,

why not? It will offer a fine opportunity to show that money is

not everything, that the only true worth is virtue and human

dignity. The child may be too much inclined to pair off only

with those who belong to the same social circle or

environment; that flatters its vanity. The parents should react

to this tendency by teaching the little one that it ought to

share with a comrade who is less privileged and while

avoiding indiscriminate associations with anybody and

everybody, seek out as friends not the best dressed but those

who are the best students, the most truly pious, the strongest

personalities for good, in a word, those that deserve most

esteem.

Should the family circumstances require sacrifices, show the

child that there are people who are poorer; silence all

jealousy. When the time comes for a choice of profession

direct the boy or girl to choose judiciously not according to

possible profit or financial returns but according to the

possibilities for best serving society, the common good.

Generous parents will not hesitate, if the child's

qualifications are adequate and the opportune moment

presents itself, to speak of vocations of complete

consecration, the priesthood, religious life. There are so

many needs in the world. "The harvest indeed is great, but the

laborers are few." They enlist their children's interest. A

priest? Why not he? A religious? Why not she?

That supposes a spirit of detachment in the parents, an

informed appreciation for the needs of the Church, love of

the general good of Christianity, the sacrifice of little hopes

for building up a new family. Yes, it means that.

Such parents will often call attention to the distress of the

world; to the struggle of nations among themselves. They will

explain to their children that union alone is fruitful;

furthermore that union alone is truly Christian.

What an inspiring example do those children have whose

father has always been a man of broad sympathies and a

generous heart, highly social-minded; if in his profession he

has always tried to serve rather than merely to earn money; if

a lawyer, he has always been concerned for justice; if an

industrialist, he has applied himself to bettering the human

aspects of production; if a merchant, he has been attentive to

injure no one; if a doctor, he has sacrificed himself to do the

most possible good; if an employee, he has given his time

loyally and honestly to his work--a worker eager for work well

done and the social defense of his profession.

The boy and girl learn from this to consider their chosen

professions or careers as future social service. They get out of

their narrow selfish views which formerly warped their

characters--they emerge with souls truly formed.

TRAINING IN SOCIAL RESPONSIBILITY (3)

IF WE are alert to seize the occasions, everything can serve to

teach children to guess or at least to understand the needs

and requirements of others.

A little girl who could no longer be called a baby had not as

yet any brother or sister. One day she noticed her mother

busy with the details of a layette: "Is all that for Liette,

mamma?" She was Liette. "No dear, not for Liette, but for a

little brother or sister who is going to come."

Liette was utterly stupefied. What was this? Mother was not

working only for her then!

The first school for social consciousness is the family. What a

handicap if mother has never worked for anyone but Liette, if

Liette remained an only child! We can readily guess what

selfishness she would have been capable of displaying.

The family is together: "It's so stuffy here, I'm going to open

the window."

"No, grandmother has a cold."

The child understands it is not alone; others count.

The family lives in an apartment. The children are making an

uproar. "Gently, children; we must not disturb the people

downstairs. Not so much noise." Others count.

The little girl is learning how to keep house. She shakes her

dustcloth out of the window. "Did you look to see if someone

was passing by?"

To know that other people exist and to understand that we

must restrain ourselves for them is the root of social

consciousness. A person would think that we all would have it

and to spare.

Unfortunately experience proves otherwise.

Mother and child go to a neighboring park for play. How

tempting to make little sand piles all along the bench beside

mamma! "You will see, I will not get you dirty mamma."

"No, my little one, but you are not thinking of the people who

may come in a little while to sit on this bench."

The street as well as a public garden can offer opportunities

for such lessons. "Step aside dear. Don't you see that mother

who is pushing her baby buggy; let her pass."

On the streetcar: "Give your place to the lady."

In a train. "Take turns sitting by the window." "Let's not speak

so loud; it will disturb other people's conversation or their

reading."

On a visit. "The steps have just been scrubbed; clean your

shoes on the mat and walk along the edge so as not to track

them up for the lady."

All this is rounded out in Catechism lessons. "Then in heaven

I will be with some poor little child, won't I?"

Children of poor families should be taught the dignity of

poverty and labor, the duty of contributing one's best efforts

to lift the living conditions and social status of their group.

Children of wealthy families should be taught their

responsibility toward the working classes; they should be

taught how far material, moral, and spiritual destitution can

go and what they ought to do to learn how to remedy it.

TRAINING IN SOCIAL RESPONSIBILITY (4)

WE HAVE not done everything when we have given children

the idea and the desire of going to the aid of the poor. There

is something better to be done. That is to teach them

gradually to try to prevent misery from invading the poor

world. We shall never succeed completely in checking it, but

what a beautiful work it is to try to spread more happiness

among men!

As children grow and reach an age of keener perception and

of deeper reflection show them that the problem involves:

--The relations of social classes with one another;

--The relations of nations toward one another.

Within a single country, there are those who have what they

need, those who have more than they need, those who have

not even the essentials.

Is it not fundamental to establish a condition in the world in

which the fewest people possible lack the necessities of life

or better in which the most people possible can attain a

sufficient possession of the goods of the earth, the culture of

the mind and the knowledge of supernatural riches?

To the degree in which we are impregnated with the spirit of

the Gospel, we will desire that our brothers about us are not

only cured of their wounds but preserved as far as they can

be from possible wounds and established in a state of

adequate human development, and of adequate divine

development.

To dress a wound that has been infected is a good deed; to

prevent a wound from being inflicted is a better deed. To

prearrange indemnity for those who fall into unemployment

is good; to strive for a status of work in which unemployment

is prevented is better.

Now the conditions of modern living, the economic

equipment of society, have thrown a whole section of society

into a situation in which life has become very hard, in which

"earning one's living" has become a terrible problem.

Young boys and girls must be taught to realize these facts as

they grow up. They must open their minds to an

understanding of the social problems in their most agonizing

aspects; they must prepare themselves to work to the best of

their ability to counteract these evils.

When the social questions are concerned with relations

between peoples of different nations, then how many

problems crop up! Wars, even after treaties have been signed,

leave hearts embittered. New difficulties arise. A very correct

idea of patriotism is of capital importance!

Is periodic war between nations justifiable? Ought we not do

everything in our power to constitute a state of peace in the

world by an honest agreement between nations?

What procedures should we follow that these desirable

understandings be effective?

What virtues must be developed in order to reconcile at one

and the same time concern for national dignity, love of

peace, brotherhood according to God.

How can we get different peoples to live together side by side

without the grave interests of any group suffering even

though each nationality remains deeply concerned for its own

greatness?

A whole education on these points must be given.

THE FAMILY AND THE SCHOOL

To CHOOSE a school and then to help the school are two great

duties of the family.

1. To choose a school. It is quite clear that a Catholic family

ought to choose a Catholic school. On every level of

education when there is a choice between a Catholic school

and a public school, Christian parents have the serious duty

to prefer the one which speaks of God and Christ rather than

the one which sins by omission.

It is a duty and a serious duty for many reasons:

First of all when Catholics practically bleed themselves to

death financially to maintain their schools, not to profit by

their sacrifice is to do them grave injustice.

Then, and this is serious, even when there need be no fear of

the danger of immorality, the very fact of the mixed religions

necessarily involved is a danger for the child's faith since

because of this variety, the education offered is severed from

all allusion to things eternal. It is by a regrettable amputation

that educators pretend to isolate in the human being, the

merely human vocation and the supernatural vocation. We

have not been created to be human beings pure and simple

but divinized human beings. Educators can work in vain,

secularization will accomplish nothing in changing this truth.

It is just that way. The same holds for the education the

parents give to supplement that of the school; it is

immeasurably harmful for the moral life of young minds and

young hearts never to hear mentioned that which alone

counts for life. That is, however, how so many generations

have become accustomed to put life on one side and religion

on the other as if they were separate water-tight

compartments.

To count on the school alone, especially when it is neutral, to

equip children adequately for life is a grave delusion.

Spencer, that English realist, once wrote:

"The one who would want to teach geometry by giving Latin

lessons or who believed he could teach pupils to play the

piano by drawing would be considered crazy. He would be

just as reasonable as those who pretend to improve the moral

sense by teaching grammar, chemistry or physics."

An education, even a solid education that is purely secular is

insufficient for the full development of the moral sense and

the adequate formation of character.

2. To help the school. After the school has been carefully

chosen, the family still has the duty to help the teachers in

their task. Therefore, parents, older brothers and sisters

should:

--show new interest in the children's studies not as they often

do through vanity but through real interest in the children.

--should never contradict the disciplinary measures that

teachers thought necessary; if a punishment has been

inflicted at school or a schedule decided upon, the pupil's

family ought to support it and express themselves as being in

accord with it.

--should, if necessity has obligated them to put a child in a

secular school, supplement the regrettable deficiencies of the

school by competent religious instructions; they must also

exercise vigilance over the friendships and associations the

children form.

They should exercise vigilance in this regard even when the

school is of the highest moral standard; particularly careful

must they be of the influences of doubtful companions the

children might become acquainted with on their way to and

from school. Along with the school and the home we must

take account of the influence of the streets.

THE SECULARISM OF CHRISTIANS

WE ARE not concerned here with refuting the doctrines of

secularism. Every Christian ought to know the mind of the

Church on this subject; we need not go back to ancient

documents either to discover it. It is enough to recall the

Encyclical "Summi Pontificatus" issued by Pius XII in 1939 at

the beginning of the Second World War.

Denouncing the aggressive encroachment into the field of

religion by some present-day particular doctrines, he traced

even farther back the source of the evil which has poisoned

the whole life of Europe; he pointed to the doctrines which

tried to build up the present and the future of humanity by

getting rid of God and getting rid of Christ.

The problem now is to determine which of the unfortunate

species of secularism has invaded me, my home, my habits,

and which now may dominate me.

Of course there is no question of a denial of God or of Christ.

But what place do they hold in my family life? In my daily

life, in my profession, in my participation in civic affairs?

Has it not often happened that in choosing schools or

colleges for their children so-called Christian parents often

evidence a utilitarian materialistic spirit; they give lame

reasons for choosing the secular colleges instead of a

Catholic college--the teachers are better, the chances for

success after graduation are more certain. Are they so sure?

And if by chance it were true? Do the souls of their children

mean less than a diploma?

Has it not often happened that the influence of such

Christian parents in their social and civic life was practically

nothing as far as bringing the doctrines of the Gospel and the

teaching of the Church to bear on those domains?

And even though they neglected nothing of the essential

practices of their religion, was it not primarily mere formality

rather than solid convictions; conformity or fashion rather

than true worship? There was a great disparity between their

external actions, their attitudes and real prayer, the living

knowledge of the gift of God?

Is not following the doctrines and the morality of Christ

nothing more than letting them be evident in my life and my

family?

The world must be made over. In the light of an Apocalypse,

terrible ruins have been effected. The edifice that was the

European world appeared solid; the foundation stone was

deficient. Are we going to build the new world on an equally

fragile base? If we are, then, the causes remaining the same,

the results must inevitably be the same. And we shall

continue indefinitely to see renewed destructions. If God has

no place in the foundations of the City with all that His

inclusion implies, then how can the City remain standing?

That is a thought expressed in an ancient psalm; there is no

exception--the truth of this fact remains. The stability of

nations and of society is bound up with eternal principles.

Am I sufficiently convinced of this? Do I not have much more

confidence in human formulas than in the rule of complete

truth? Do I not unconsciously try to establish human life only

upon the human? Am I not still and always, in spite of the

lesson in world events, the victim of a deficient ideal, of

inadequate principles?

I must Christianize my Christianity. I must make it evident in

every department of my life--in my relations with my family

and with society; in the opinions I hold regarding national

and international issues. In all that depends on me there shall

be one hundred percent Christianity.

FAMILY AFFECTIONS

THE family spirit, that traditional ensemble of convictions,

ideals, and domestic practices which constitute the sacred

patrimony of people united by the same blood, can exist

without a very strong affection among the members. The

family spirit is in itself something precious; but when it is

merely a sort of collective egotism, it has been blemished; it

is a beautiful fruit injured by a worm.

What an inspiring and noble reality family affection is! One

author refers to it poetically:

". . . Beautiful families that travel as a group and as a choir on

the road to heaven after the pattern of stars that are united in

constellations in the firmament . . ."

How we ought to pity those husbands or wives and often

young boys and girls who find the hours spent at home long;

those husbands and wives who are bored with each other;

those brothers and sisters who find one another's company

monotonous and whose glance is ever on the door, the gate or

the garage!

Mutual Love of Parents and Children: Joseph and Mary did not

grow bored with Jesus; Jesus did not tire of the company of

Mary and Joseph. It is said that love does not go backward.

We do not find too many examples of parents who do not love

their offspring but how many children neglect their father

and mother with painful disregard! They explain it by saying

that young people like to be together. But there is a time for

everything. There are some who do not make enough of the

part of the home in their lives. How strange it is that children

can be so loving when they are little, so demonstrative, and

when they grow up so adept at saddening their parents?

Brotherly and Sisterly Love: Where will we find love if not

between brothers and sisters? "Who then will love you,"

Bishop Baunard asks, "if you do not love your brother. It is

like loving yourself. I believe the etymology of the word

frater, brother, is made up of these two words fere alter, that

is nearly another self."

The Count de Mun wrote in his "Memoirs," "It is sweet to me to

have to speak in the plural when recalling the first years of

my existence. I have a twin brother who has never been so

much as a step away from me in my career. My life is his life,

my joys have been his, and his successes mine. It is not

Anatole and Armand, he and I, it is we."

Marshal Lyautey had a brother who was a colonel during the

war of 1914; this brother manifested to all who spoke to him

not only his admiration for Lyautey, the Governor of Morocco,

but his deep affection.

One only had to hear Father Foch, a fine type of Jesuit,

mention his brother Marshal Foch to sense his love; though

he showed a complete reserve it was more eloquent than any

discourse; his was a warmth of heart which a few restrained

but touching words sufficed to express.

There should be place in the home for the affection that

grandparents, uncles and aunts deserve.

On the children's birthdays, why not invite the godparents;

they would enter better into their office. "Men and women

who have held children at the baptismal font, I remind you

that you will have to render an account of them before God."

For their part, the children will get a better realization of this

beautiful institution of Christian sponsorship.

If all the members of the family are to understand one

another and love one another, each one must have a great

virtue. The same training and the same blood are not

sufficient; self-conquest is necessary. Bossuet expressed it

well: "Natures are always sufficiently opposite in character to

create frequent friction in a habitual society. Each one has

his particular disposition, his prejudices, his habits. One sees

himself at such close range and one sees oneself from so

many angles, with so many faults in the most trifling

occurrences! One grows weary, imperfection repels, human

weakness makes itself felt more and more, so that it is

necessary to conquer oneself at every hour."

THE HIERARCHY OF DUTIES

APOSTOLIC work if carried on inopportunely or immoderately

can take a woman away from her home too much.

Beyond a doubt, there are immense needs: help for the sick,

catechetical instructions, guild meetings for the Sisters,

spiritual conferences, and in all of these, great charity can be

exercised. It is much better for a woman to spend her time in

such things than in lounging, or in numerous and useless

visits, in exploring for the hundredth time some enticing

department store. Nevertheless, the duties of the home

remain her principal work: To plan, to arrange, to mend, to

clean, to sew, to beautify, to care for the children.

Insignificant duties? But what would that matter if they

represented the Will of God? Are we not too often tempted to

want a change? Impetuous zeal, poorly directed service,

caprice under the guise of generosity seek to substitute for

daily duty which perhaps has not much glamor about it but

which is just the same wanted by God.

Would not the greatest charity in such a case be not to engage

in works of charity but to remain faithfully at home and

devote oneself to works which no one will speak of and which

will win no one's congratulations? Later when the children

have grown up and settled, there may be leisure; then a large

share in the apostolate will be open according to one's

strength and time. Until then, my nearest neighbor, without

being the least bit exclusive about it but merely judging with

a well instructed understanding, will be this little world that

has established itself in my home....

Another danger besides excessive apostolic works that might

ensnare some wives and mothers of families would be to give

exaggerated place to exercises of piety. Did not one of the

characters in a novel by George Duhamel lament this

tendency: "I have heard priests say that some women have

spoiled their married life by excessive attendance at religious

ceremonies and they sighed, 'Why did they get married if

they had a religious vocation.'"

There are unfortunately some husbands so superficially

Christian that they see exaggeration in the most elementary

and normal practice of piety on the part of the wife and

mother. That is only too sadly true! Their judgment is worth

nothing.

We are referring only to an actual excess which would really

be considered such by a competent judge.

There is no doubt that a married woman, if she is a good

manager and is not encumbered by some job outside the

home, can find time for normal religious exercises and can

even provide for meditation, spiritual reading and a relatively

frequent assistance at Mass and reception of Holy

Communion; time, after all, is something that varies in its

possibility for adaptations and compressibility and woman

excels in the heart of putting many things into a small

place....

If she suspects that her husband finds certain exterior acts of

piety exaggerated, attendance at weekday Mass for instance,

let her increase her private devotions somewhat, a little more

meditation or spiritual reading when he is not around;

whether he is right or not, it is better not to irritate him if

grave consequences might result. That is how Elizabeth

Leseur managed; never did she betray the least annoyance

when disturbed in her devotions; she always answered her

husband's call or his outbursts of irritation with a pleasant

face.

Never neglect a duty but observe the order of their

importance.