Omaha daily bee., 1906-08-26
On Training of Children.

when I was a young mother" writes
An Elderly Woman" In Harper's Bazaar.
II believed. too. that I could be a Proyi-
dence for my children. 1 believed they had
been given to me to mould as I would, and
the only limit Of the influence 1 would
have was the limit Of my own strength
and love- Then there came time when
I realized that every child on the street
my child stopped to talk with had it's share
In bringing up my sons and daughters.
One week in school was enough to upset
all the training OF years. They learned
faster from their friends, and more will
ingly' than ever they did. from me, and It
seemed to me then that they learned the
things they. oughtn't the quickest of all.
MY well-brought-up boys came from play
+. talking loudly, making faces playing the
fool. The girls would come home from a.
visit with trunkful Of affectations and an
assortment Of silly ideas--how silly I knew
very well, for I had had those same ideas
and thrown them aside myself; why I
didn't get comfort out of the fact that I
had outgrown these very things, and that
they, too. would in time inevitably outgrow
them, don't know. It's a bad moment
when one realizes that the most shallow
boy and girl can have an influence over
sSeA vi bTCdtoT tndn your own, and
that some thoughtless ridicule from any
one your sons admire Is able to undo all
your patient work. It was when / saw
these things that began to see that my
place in my children's lives must be very
much less than had first supposed, but
I only redoubled my efforts. BY that time
was past the place when commands and
punishments were very much used. used
all my tact and affection and diplomacy
to make my children what wanted them.
las they grew older still 1 found nv
ideas OF what wanted them modified
and changed by what they were. How
much 1 am responsible for what they are
today l am at a loss to decide, but 1 do
know that the boy next door has always
had a more direct and apparently a
stronger influence than I ever had This
Ii one OF the bitterest things we mothers
nave to bear when We get old. We have
learned then that we can't help our chill
dren to lead their lives one bit better. There
Is not one single little stone we can clear
from before their feet, be our old fingers
ever SO willing With yearning hearts we
see them making the mistakes we could
teach them to avoid II only they would lis
ten We see them going through one ex-
pertence after another, stumbling here,
again hurting themselves against the same
corner you hurt yourself SO long ago, re-
peating all the world-worn mistakes, while
we elders watch anxiously and may not
even cry out, Take care" Our sons repeat
the follies Of their fathers; our daughters
make over again all the mistakes Of their
mothers. 1t is very hard to sit in silence
when you see them doing all the things that
you did and then so painfully learned bet
ter. We feel that we could so easily point
to the fair open road II our children would
let us, but we are as useless to them as
guide-posts to the blind. We must watch
our children lose themselves in the tangle
whose niiseries we know so well, and see
them at last, after long years OF wander
ing. find their way back home heartsore
and worn-and all the time we can't help
thinking II all needn't have been. That. to
US older mothers. is the heartrending part
Of It,"