The Ely miner., 1943-02-25

sleeps until four at least. Perhaps
twice week she walks across town,
she is great walker, and shares our
six o'clock dinner with her father
and me. Also she sometimes drops
in on Donna; she is very fond of the
baby. Perhaps once month, on her
free Tuesday, she comes to take me
to a movie.
"But what ELSE does she do? We
have no idea. She has never been
expansive with US; we don't know
who her friends are, where she usu-
ally dimes, how she spends her
money. It seems foolish waste to
have those girls sharing a $45 rent,
when there are three empty bed
rooms up stairs in our house, and
good bus lines to the factory. After
all, Emily is our child, still to us the
dear baby whose coming caused such
delight to uncles and aunts and moth
er and father, and we cannot quite
abando1s her to what may be most
foolish ano reckless coursei That
any fine man viii want to marry a
gun-turret worker in blue denim
slacks is incomprehensible to me,
and Of course I wish marriage for
her, and the happy life of normal
woman. Both Doctor and are losing
sleep over it, and think and talk of
little else. I am wondering if yeu
cannot give me some argument that
will bear weight with Emily, con-
vince her that until she married the
best place for her is at home"
My argument, my dear Laura
Parker, would be directed toward
you rather than toward Emily.
think you are the one who is making
the foolish mistake. From what you
unconsciously reveal in this letter I
gather that Donna, the younger
daughter, was pretty and popular,
which Emily obviously is not. Donna
at 18 danced and laughed herself
into an entirely suitable marriage
with her fathers partner, and pro-
duced a fine grandson in record
time. Emily looked on at the bridal
finery and the wedding presents,
went to dine in the new dove-cote,
heard nothing but praises of gallant
little Donna and her baby.
Emily Develops Own Life.
Emily is human, and she's jealous.
She doesn't want to be just that
rather plain smart older daughter of
the Parkers, coming home at night
to set the table, glance at the paper,
listen to the radio She's hard at
work now, important work, she's sur
rounded by other workers, all in
dead earnest. She goes back at
night, OF rather in the morning, to
her own little place, where she can
loaf and gossip and give impromptu
suppers, and develop her own soul
and personality.
Every day I have letter from
some frantic mother who puts to me
your problem. Sometimes the girl
who leaves the parental roof-tree is
only 19; sometimes she goes affec-
tionately, regretfully and sometimes
defantly, running away. This trying
out Of wings is as natural as breath
ing and, In most cases, it works no
harm. Left to herself, the girls ma
ture expands.
The wise course for you is to dis
cover sudden enthusiasm for what
Emily is doing, to supplement- her
housekeeping with presents of Jars
of good rich homemade soup or
boxes Of doughnuts, to laugh with ad-
miring amusement when she tells
you of her experiments and expert
ences, and to realize that you are
dealing with grown woman, an in
dependent and separate personality,
and that you owe it to her and to
yourselves not to hamper her. She
IS no longer the baby of Is years ago
Let Emily live her life, and you'll
find your own is richer, fuller.