Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1875-07-01
QuerulOus Mothers.

The boy was about five and the girl two
or three years old. They seemed weary
and the little elbows We're often resting on
the mothers knee, the curly head often
laid in the mothers lap, and as often
pushed off with an impatient hand and
remark that, if we had not heard, we
should have known was fretful by the
contraction of the eyebrows. Presently
the children climbed into the seat behind
their mother and the little boy said, lean
ing over the seat and looking in his moth
er's face: . say, mother, am so tired;
how much longer must we 90 before we
can see papa?' No answer was given, if
we except the frOwn on the face The arm
of the little girl went around the mothers
neck and, sweetly and YEARLY, she said:
" Mamma, does you ever b'lieve we'll get
there:''
The little hands were thrown off with:
" Mabel, do keep still and don't crush nv
ruff. | am actually tired of the sound of
your voice and | wish you'd cease to annoy
me-. Can you not play together for lit
tie while and not worry me:''
With a grieved look the little girl turned
to her brother and said: Do tell me
something, Carl; tell me a story about
Fido." A hard look came on the boys
face as he said: 9 | can't be moved with
YOU" and he walked across the car and
looked from the window
We are never slow to see cloud on a
child's face, and always feel anxious to
dispel it and send the sunshine there; we
wanted to call the children to us, and,
while waiting for a good opportunity, the
little girl again went to her mothers knee,
and the sad tones of her voice fell on our
ears presently the mother pushed the child
away from her, impatiently saying: = Do
keep your feet from my dress, and stop
teasing me for at least few minutes''
g | was cross to Ella the day that she
was taken sick, and she never again
called me mamma" was the sad re-
mark of a mother.
The prize slipped away from that moth
er; the lisping tongue of which she had
often complained as necessarily in motion
was silent, and now she longs for the
sound of the voice, and wonders that she
could ever have grown tired of the sweet
tones.
We were thinking of this when lady
with whom we were in company, and
from whom God had taken three dear
children, motioned the little boy to ask
his mother if they might come to us.
- Yes ip6an6 tbaT1<fI1I tO baua x-o,.
60" and as an apOlogyfor her fretfulness
she said: my head aches fearfully. Carl
was restless all night and l coulG not
sleep"
We were sorry for the mother but more
sorry for the children of such a mother.
Cross because her head ached!
The change in the little girls face from
cloud to sunshine was immediate, as the
lady took her in her arms and pressed her
to her lonely heart that longs for little
arms to clasp around her neck-arms that
are folded across a quiet breast under the
snow; held her closely to a heart that
aches TO once more hear the voices that al
ways said in eager tones, My own dear
est mamma
The question came to us as we listened
to her stories about birds and noticed Ma
bells close attention, and the still more
wonderful tales of dogs and horses and
Carl's earnest remarks" Why"
And many childless parents have asked
the same question. We know that it is
right that God never aff1icts willingly,
but the answer never comes.
There are so many things which we
cannot understand! Children from COM
Portable homes cross the river, leaving sor-
rowful hearts to grow weary with waiting
for the summons to join the loved ones,
while other little ones are left where there
seems to be already too many and WHO
seem to be dreadfully in the way.
There are mothers surrounded with
luxury who are so annoyed by the restless
ness of children that they make them
positively unhappy by their fretfuIness
The baby-shoulders of childhood carry
as heavy sorrows as the heart Of the strong
man. and the mother ought to be patient,
gentle and loving; if she, by word or look,
adds feathers weight Of sadne ss she
wears unworthily the maternal mantle.
When we see instances Of fretfulness
like that exhibited by our fellow-traveIer
we can understand why there are so many
brothers who say: She is only sister,"
SO many sons who speak Of their mother
as 9 the old woman y so many young men
who seek pleasure away from the home
circle
We know a child of strong imagination
who said to a schoolmate q don't be-
lieve am my mothers very own child"
Why?" asked the little sympathizer
because she scold me so much. lean
never please her"
That child may grow to womanhood
loving her mother, but there will be times
when her estimation of her mothers char
acter will be unlike what daughters
should be.
o mothers who have your children by
your side, who hear their sweet voices,
who feel the touch Of their warm hands,
be patient with them in their early years.
Be gentle and firm; be even in temper, be
truthful and conscientious in all your
dealings with them.