Western news and the Libby times. [volume] (Libby, Mont.) 1920-1933, 1931-03-05
Listen, Son!

II am saying this to you as you lie
asleep one little paw crumpled under
your cheek and the blond curls stickily
wet on your damp forehead | have
stolen into your room alone. Just few
minutes ago, as | sat reading my paper
in the library, hot, sitting wave Of
remorse swept over me. | could not
resist it. Guilty. | came to your bed
side.
These are the things / was thinking,
son:1 had been cross to you. / scolded
you as you were dressing for school
because you gave your face merely
a dab with towel | took you to task
for not cleaning your shoes. l called
out angrily when | found you had
thrown some of your things on the
floor.
AT breakfast found fault, too You
spilled things. You gulped down your
food. You put your elbows on the table.
You spread butter too thick on your
bread. And as you started off to play
and made for my train, you turned
and waved little hand and called
Goodbye Daddy and frowned, and
said in reply, Hold you shoulders back
Then it began all over again in the
late afternoon. As | came up the hill
road / spied you down on your knees
playing marbles. There were holes in
your stockings Inundated you before
your boy friends by making you march
ahead OF me back to the house Stock
ings were expensive-and if you had
to buy them you would be more care
full! Imagine that son, from father!
1t was such stupid, silly logic.
! "Do you remember, later, when l
was reading in the library, how you
came in, softly, tinidly, with a sort
OF hurt, hunted look in your eyes?
When glanced up over my paper, i'm
patient at the interruption, you hest
tated at the door. What is it you
want?,' snapped.
The Good Night Kiss.
"You said nothing, but ran across,
in one tempestuous plunge; and threw
your arms around my neck and kissed
/ me, again and again, and your small
arms frightened with an affection that
God had set blooming in your heart
/ and which even neglect could not
! wither. And then you were gone, pat
tering up the stairs.
well, son, it was shortly afterwards
that my paper slipped from my hands
and terrible sickening fear came over
me. Suddenly saw myself as | really
was in all my horrible selfishness, and
/ felt sick at heart.
What has habit been doing to me?
The habit Of complaining. OF finding
fault, of reprimanding-all of these
were my rewards to you for being a
boy 1t was not that / did not love you;
it was that expected SO much of
youth was measuring you by the
yardstick of my own years.
And there was so much that was
! good, and fine, and true in your
character You did not deserve my
treatment of you, son. The little heart
of you was as big as the dawn itself
over the wide hills. All this was shown
by your spontaneous impulse to rush
in and kiss me goodnight Nothing
else matters tonight, son. | have come
to your bedside in the darkness, and
have knelt there, choking with emo
ton, and so ashamed
1T is feeble atonement, | know you
4 would not understand these things if
| told them to you during your wax
ing hours, yet must say what am
saying | must burn sacrificial fires
/ alone, here in your bedroom, and make
free confession And I have prayed
God strengthen me in my new
/ resolve Tomorrow will be a real dad