Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1893-04-04
WOMAN'S HEART.

wOman's heart must possess In some
form the nature Of rubber; else why
does 1t adjust itself to every requisite
dlmenslony
The young wife leaves her home,
" here seemingly she has entwlned every
budding tendril Of her being. Before
she goes, however, her expanding heart
has responded to the sweet love OF an
other. How naturally II does this; she
thought II filled to the brim with moth
er's love, and fathers and sisters and
brothers; but there is plenty OF room
to take In this new object Of affection.
She loves the others just as well, and
sees to Il that they do not miss one iota
of the dear love she has always bestowed
on them.
Love never contracts the heart, for Its
glowing nature II such that 1t paves new
paths for beautiful expression.
Later on comes the innocent first born.
Now a new fount opens to supply this
sweetest all demands on a mothers love I;
but this same rich heart contains all the
others, tOO--lOve Of homes dear ones.
husbands love, and baby's, too, all
nestle cozily In the same warm nesting
Of true affection.
But domestic ties alone are not all
over which loves gentle scepter reigns ;
Its tendrils reach out to the unfortunate.
We can love the sinner, and yet hate her
sin. From this philanthroplc view we
will assert that II IL woman's province
to sincerely love the wretched wanderer
from the true path. Her Maynard sister
has claim on her pity. II may be that
the erring one once had as happy a
home as she who now feels such genuine
interest In her behalf.
In all her dreams of early life she may
never have taken In the probability even
of sin. Sin that has shut the doors OF
society against her. Her plans may
have been as roseate-hued as yours,
young and happy mother. Every tiny
cloudlet NAV have been lined with silver.
Then remember her In your prisons tn
heaven; keep the light bright In the
window Of your faith, for she may yet
return. =.
hut this Is not all; we have not half
filed loving woman's heart yet. a
true mother loves the children OF others.
IL will do very well to say, as We
heard lady not long since, "Oh, i hate
children. | can't bear the idea Of taking
care of one; don't want them around,
etc." This woman was wife, but she
was not u mother!
Now, II would be just as sensible to
descant on the awful subllmlty OF the
snow-clad Alps, while never having seen
them, as To form any Idea of mothers
feelings toward her own offspring when
one has never been there. The transit
ton from hate to love would be quicker
than fash of white lightning, and the
awakening from the stupOr OF mad
Idea to the warm intensity first kindled
In heaven over creation would be as sure
and certain as that the sun opens the
doors Of day, and evening closes the
violets at night.
Again these EXPLANATIONS may be the
result OF blighted dream Of mother
hood. Oh, these hearts OF ours. How
true Il Is that the Infinite eye alone can
read them. Some hearts have evidently
not expanded to the full dimensions In
/ tended by the creator, and among them
We do not hesitate to class the haters OF
children.
II "a possible for the heart to become
warned when every nook and Granny IL
not filled. We would not have been
blessed with such capaciOus treasures
were they not intended to hold the
various dropplngs from Imperfect hui
mainly.
Those who cultivate dislike for chill
dren might be llkened to n black flower,
unhandsome and shsdowy with gloom
true, Il has opened Its petals to the sun,
and the brilliant, blue skies, but evident
ly Is SO permeated with the dark paint
ings from the heart, or Inner life, that
though beauty In tenfold abundance
should food II, the same dusky color
would remain; II Ii incrusted In 30 deep
that even baby's COO could not hold y
single corolla with vermllion-tlnted
love.
Don't say you do not like children.
even II you feel so; forbear. please, out of
respect to some loving mother and III
Their whose ears cannot hear sweeter
sound than their child calling, "Pspa"
"Mamma!"