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NOVEMBER 3, 1105?
The Commoner.
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THE MAJESTY OP THE MOTHER'S LOVE
Newspaper readers are quite familiar with
the details of a recent divorce suit between a
couple conspicuous in the social life of the United
States army. Charges and counter charges
were made, and the .result was that the husband
was given the decree with the possession of the
two children.
Among the black stories that emanated from
that court room, there was one bright tale.
Among the deeply interested participants there
was one stalwart figure. The figure was the
twelve year old- lad of the divorced couple, and
the tale relates to the fidelity ho displayed to
ward the woman who gave him birth.
Given into the custody of his father this
manly lad, upon the adjournment of the court,
boldly and roundly denounced him for the
charges he had made against the mother. Stout
ly maintaining hiB faith in his mother's inno
cence, he publicly condemned the father for al
leged brutalities, and, forced to accompany his
father, ho announced his determination to re
join his mother at the earliest opportunity.
That was at once a pathetic and a splendid
scene. Some may imagine, but none can de
scribe, the emotions that rocked the tender heart
of this boy. In addition to being deprived of a
home where the mother Is "the swedt rallying
point 'round which affection and obedience and a
thousand tender endeavors to please concen
trate," ho was required to witness a foul stain
upon the fair name of his first and best friend.
"I KNOW NOT, I ASK NOT"
In this view, the guilt or innocence of the
woman need not be considered. Guilty or inno
cent, the boy's faith was superb. Innocent or
guilty, the boy's fidelity was magnificent. He
may have heard things which he could not under
stand; he may have listened t indictments
which he could not explain. The central fact
with him was that she was his mother, and to
him and to his boyish innocence and faith "a
mother is a mother still, the holiest thing alive."
Whether his fine devotion was due more to love
than to faith, he might have joined with Tom
Moore in that sentiment which Poj said "em
bodies the all in all of the -divine passion of love
a sentiment which, perhaps, has found its echo in
more, and in more passionate, hiL-ian hearts
than any other single sentiment ever embodied
in words:"
"Here still is the smile that no cloui can o'ercast,
And a heart and a hand all thy own to-the last.
Oh! what was love made for, if 'tis not the same
Through joy and through torment, through glory
and shame?
I know not, I ask not, if guilt's in that heart,
I know that I love thee, whatever thou art.
Thou lias called me thy Angel in moments of
bliss
And thy Angel I'll be 'mid the horrors of this
Through the furnace, unshrinking, tliy steps to
pursue,
And shield thee, and save thee or perish there
too!"
If devotion such as this be shown for one
whose name has, at least, been tarnished, what
words may be UBed to describe tne loyalty due
one whose name is a synonym for purity?
THE WORLD'S BURDEN-BEARERS
It will not do .this world a bit of harm for
its men and its boys, too to be frequently re
minded of the great debt they owe their mothers.
From the beginning to the end of her own life
as mother, from the beginning to the end of her
children's lives, she Is the burden bearer of bur
den bearers, and the wonder of it all is that in
her delicate construction there is strength to
carry the loads.
The secret of her love and sacrifice was
told by one who wrote: "Her first ministration
for her Infant Is to enter, as it were, the valley
of the shadow of death and win its life at the
peril of her own. How different must an affection
thus founded be from all others!"
And how different, Indeed, from all others,
is the mother's affection for her children!
The majesty of a mother's love is indescrib
able. In the language of another, "it shrinks not
where man cowers, and grows stronger where
man faints; and from the wastes of worldly for
tune sends tho radiance of its quenchless fidelity
like a star In heaven."
But it is not alono in tho tragedies of Hfo
that tho mother love is felt; it manifests itself
all along tho lino; and tho routino life of tho moth
er Ib one continual round of self-sacrifice, of at
tentions great and small the greatest consequen
tial to tho child's future and tho smallest indis
pensable to its present day happiness.
"Who ran to help mo when I fell
And would some pretty story toll,
Or kiss tho place to make it well?
My mother."
A VERITABLE SHERLOCK HOLMES
Did you over think of the endless and var
ious little duties confronting the mother every
day of the year? One hour devoted to tho dis
charge of these duties to tho children would
drive tho average man stark mad. From morn
ing until night, and in cases of sickness or of
fretfulness sometimes from night until morning,
this heroine of the hearthstone keeps ever at her
task. With all of the boundless attention re
quired by her little ones a large share of her
notice must bo given to tho little necessities of
tho father who, in many cases, is the greatest
baby of them all. What a wonderful amount of
work she is able to accomplish! How many
things sho seems to do all at the same time!
At one moment she is preparing the father for
his daily journey to the business district and
in most cases this is no mean task, either and
between steps, as it were, sho is preparing, the
children for school. In locating missing articles
essential to the dress she is a veritable Sherlock
Holmes. Did it ever occur to you that the boy's
cap or the girl's scarlet hood has a mysterious
way of hiding itself? And did It ever occur to
you, also, that through some mysterious power
the mother Is always able to locate the missing
article? In such a search the combined efforts of
the father, the children and the domestic would
be unavailing, even though they extended over
a considerable period of time, while the mother,
who in the first place can not possibly have any
idea as to the headgear's location, seems instinc
tively drawn to its hiding place. This provides
but a meagre description of tho wonderful capa
bilities of the mother in the little things in house
hold affairs. But these things arj familiar to
every man who remembers the kind offices of his
own good mother, and to every husband who
stands uncovered in the presence of his good
wife's ministrations to his own little ones.
SOME FAMILIAR SCENES
Did you ever notice the large difficulties
under which a great, powerful man struggles
when he escorts two or three children to a cir
cus or a county fair? In tho parlance of the
street, he Is "sweating blood," and you have
no difficulty in imagining that under his breath
he is singing, "A charge to keep I have." And
did you ever notice how deftly a mother, per
haps already worn and weary from her house
hold work, handles, on simila'r occasions, half a
dozen nervous, Impatient little ones? Perhaps
she is carrving one of them In a tired arm, .ind
holding another with a weary hand, while all
the time she is keeping a watchfil eye on the
balance of the group; and all the time without a
sign of weariness ajnd without a display of im
patience. How intimately a mother's sympathies and
sentiments are linked with those of the child!
The boy can n.i enter his homo so late at night,
nor so stealthily, as to avo' 1 his mother's notice;
and the innocent inquiry, "Ir. that you,
Will?" is as familiar to the boys of today
as to' the bovs of forty years ago.
She may be in a far away room and yet during
the dead of night when a little one who has, per
haps, taken a cold sneezes sho can, though the
mother of half a dozen, imr idlately distinguish
the owner of the sneeze. She may be sitting in a
room several rooms twav from the cookery, and
yet she seems able to tell Instinctively just when
the haria of a healthy bov has been thrust into the
cookoy jar. She can detect the ta'sehood where
the father "would see nothing but ti-uth. She can
recognize as correct a statement which the father
might auestion. She knows the weakness of
every child, and to that extent Knows just how
much should be forgiven. She accomplishes so
much, loves so much and sacrifices so much that
tho father, conscious of hlo own shortcomings,
must oftentimes stand abashod in hor prcsonco.
' Ono of tho prettiest stories over told relatoft
to tho dovotion shown by a distinguished No-
braskan to tho memory of his boys' mothor.
This gentleman caused to bo erected ovor that
mother's gravo a stono upon which his own namo
as husband, and tho names f his boys as sons of
that good woman, were inscribed. After tho stono
had been put in placo, ho took his four boys to
tho comotery, and kneoling at that gravo, directed
their attention to tho fact that thoir names nan
been highly honorod by bolng wrltton on that
slab of marble. Then, paying a high nnd deserved
tribute to tho fine character of that mother, tho
father said: "Boys, If any ong or you over does
anything to dishonor this memory, I will have
his namo chislcd from this stone."
It would bo a great benefit to all tho boys
of tho world If tho lovo and dovotion shown for
them by thoir mothers could bo ovor Impressed
upon them. If tho boys would bo evor careful
lest they do somothing that, if known, would
bring pain and sorrow to tho mother heart, tho
futuro of tho world would bo secure.
A BOY AND HIS 8WEET HEART
Many years ago ono of tho best of mothcra
fell "asleop at tho gates of light." All of her
children, of courso, revered hor memory; but
one of them was tho babo of war-time birth, and
owing to tho anxieties and excitements of tho
period, and the continued absence of tho father,
oxtraordlnary affection and dovotion was, doubt
less, lavished upon him
Perhaps it was because of this that after
tho mother's death, and for many years, thia
boy never retired for tho night without placing
at his bedside a chair, under the childish im
pression that his mothor would occupy it and
watch him to sleep.
When other boys would write f- sand or carvo
on trees tho names of sweethearts dear, this lad
would trace with knifo or stick tho namo of hia
sweet -heart his mother's namo.
When but a boy he chose his sweet heart's
namo as ono to be given to his own daughter;
and when in later years ho wrote some tales of
lovo and life, his heroine, good and true, bore with
signal honor and renown tho namo ho loved so
well. So, through boyhood's days thiB precious
memory was enshrined within his heart; the p lr
ity, tho dovotion, the sacrifices, the sorrows of
this patient, God loving and Goa serving woman
was over before him, often deterrin; him from
evil and sometimes inspiring him for good.
"Happy he with such a mother,! Faith in
womankind beats with his blood, and trust In
all things high comes easy to him."
MEMORIES THAT BLESS AND BURN
There are living today many such mothers.
If the boys could only appreciate their loving
kindness while they live, life Vwould bo sweeter
to them. If those who now have the compan
ionship of the boy's best friend could only
know all they will lose when that companionship
ends, the pathway of the mothers or the world
would today be strewn with roses.
The regrets for thoughtless acts and indiffer
ence to admonitions now felt and expressed by
many living sons of dead mothers will, in time,
bo felt and expressed by tho living sons of living
mothers. The boys of today who do not under
stand the value of tho mother's companionship
will yet sing with those who already know
this song of tribute and regret:
"The hours I spent with thee, dear heart,
Are as a string of pearls to mo;
I count them over, every one apart,
My rosary.
Each hour a pearl, each pearl a prayer, v f'
To still a heart In absence wrung;
I tell each bead unto the end, and there ..
A cross is hung. ;
0 memories that bless and burn!
Oh mighty gain and bitter loss!
1 kiss each bead and strive at last to learn. - -
To kiss the cross, 0
Sweet heart, t .
To kiss the cross." ' , -,
IlICHAItD L. METCALFE.
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