FROM MY WINDOW.

Shannon News, 19 September 1922, Page 4

FROM MY WINDOW.

No XXV.—FATHERS

(By “ETERA.”) “They err who measure life by years, With false or thoughtless tongue; Some hearts grow old before their time, Others are -always young.” Once a little girl cried when she saw her father donning smoked glasses during a very hot summer when the roads were unbearably glaring. She cried because he must be growing old, and certainly he had re’ache.d the mature age of thirty-two, while she could count only seven summers. Now she has passed the age of thirty-two herself, and her father has not grown old yet, so those tears were wasted. She must have thought that growing old was a sign of imperfection; but nothing is more beautiful than well-seasoned age with its past experiences and present knowledge. We only need to look around our little Dominion to see how great a powen these seasoned (intellects are in the highest positions. If these men were to resign in a body, where could we find equally suitable intellects to take their place? tf * » *

Most children make heroes of their fathers, and boast of their prowess in sport, intellect, and everything under the sun. Many a father would not be able to recognise the numerous virtues assigned to 1 him, should he overhear an admiring son who stands with feet apart and hands in fighting attitude, giving forth to another boy in no uncertain voice what “my father” can do; what “my father” said; and what “my father” is going to do. It should be an incentive to any father to be his best and do his best for the sake of such implicit faith.

The father shares in triumphs, the mother in* defeats. Jonathan comes home with news of honours, and a prize. “Where’s DadP” “Oh, Father” (in an off-hand way), you may be interested to know that I didn’t do so hadly in that exam.” And he hands him the prize as tangible proof. The father’s eyes shine as he looks into his son’s face, and he places his hand on the boy’s shoulder. But all he says is: “That is all right my son. . . . Now what are you aiming for, nextP” And the boy’s tongue is loosened to tell of further ambitions.

But when that exam, has proved too heavy, and someone else has the prize—it is Mother’s name he calls. In the same off-hand way he says, “Went down in the exam, this time, Mum.” “Never mind,”' answers Mother, and she forthwith gives him half a dozen reasons why this little defeat is really a blessing in disguise; until the boy feels that the bottom hasn’t fallen out of the old world after all, and he is braced up to do better next year. A girl, after having won a valuable diploma, was asked by her fellowstudents how she felt about the good news. “I feel that I want to hurry home and show it to Father,” whs her reply. This, however, is not to say that father and mother do not share equally in either result. I have actually heard several mothers in a room mentioning casually but distinctly how their individual lambs have accomplished wonders in jumping educational hurdles—perhaps I cannot deny the soft impeachment myself! T[hey try to keep toe pride out ol their voices, but only a disinterested listener would be unkind enough to extract humour from such a sacred occasion, lor if the parents lack faith in their own children, who else can supply it?

Years ago a child came home from school full of an interesting fact learnt that day. The mother said to the lather in front of the child, “It is. wonderful how much she knows.” “•It is more wonderful still how much she does not knowl” said the father in timely rebuke, to prevent such selfcomplacency over work achieved as would be likely to. militate against that divine discontent which urges us ever forward; and the child lias pondered the lesson in her heart ever since.

At the beginning oi the great war, when we were just waking up to the seriousness of it, a well set-up man sat opposite me in a train travelling across country in Australia. Out of the fullness of his heart he commenced to tell us about his brave son, who was then training for active service, and how proud he was to be the father of such a lad. I could not help thinking that the man seemed somewhat callous when_ the parting was 60 near; and how different must te the feelings of the mother, her heart throbbing -with a dull ache at the thought of her little boy now grown up and preparing to lace such dangers. But I judged too early, for no sooner had he said this than his mouth drooped pathetically, and he added “But * don’t kuow what his mother and I are going to

do without him during the winter.”

Someone, in writing of Charles Kingsley, said that he had no “moods” with his children. What influence (he must have gained, and what an example of self-control he must have set. A father does not lose his dignity by being a chum to his Children; on the contrary, (his influence will be greater, 'for it is natural to place him on a pedestal. And when any little i correction is needed, there he is, to : give it in a few words; whereas, ii given later it would partake more ot; the nature of a sermon—-and do chil-| dren like sermons P A drunken father had a loyal; champion in his little son, whom 1 1; met once.’ The boy said, proudly, “My ( father is the best wedding-cake maker in the city.” He did not add thai the reason for his starved condition was due to his father’s neglect, in not providing him with enough ordinary bread. I wished that the fathei were near enough to hear this brave championship, for if anything could make him turn over a new leaf, surely this would do so.

A father in his time plays parts, being in turn' guardian, guide, companion, walking encyclopaedia, and arbitrator in childish squabbles, etc. Happy are those children who own fathers who can find time in the evenings to develop the love of good literature, by reading it to the little ones, when their brains are ready to. assimilate such mental food. One little girl’s bedtime slogan was, “Sit ’n here ’nd read!” Even when the choice of literature is too rich for immediate absorption, the brain is able to tuck such food away in at} obscure coiner an'd receive sustenance at some future time when in need, and it is wonderful how retentive the brain may become. This reading together forms a link that binds tile family more closely tor gether as time goes on. The members have a recollection of the same authors and events, and have the same mode of thinking; and later* when they recall sayings and doings, hall a . sentence may convey the meaning. As for family jokes! They are the choicest by association, even though an outsider may fail to see any point in them. The jokes areprecious because they recall to mind pictures of happy times around a table where only good-natured humour finds a place, and. caustic wit is entirely absent.