CHILD-LOVES

Sun (Auckland), Volume II, Issue 453, 7 September 1928, Page 5

CHILD-LOVES

By PHILIPPA KENDRICK. - One of the most generously broadminded mothers I ever knew, who gave herself most abundantly to her children, accepted with smiling philosophy those impassioned child-loves that spend themselves outside the home nest. She never stooped to those fierce maternal jealousies that resent all filial needs outside the maternal embrace. Her mother-love was big enough to rejoice in every lovely little glow of heart-happiness that came to her adolescent sous and daughters from their contacts with others than their own kin. When au impressionable daughter became the tremulous heroine-wor-shipper of au adored school mistress, she felt that her motherhood was richly crowned in filial confidences. Into her sympathetic ears were poured the praises of the rival to daughterly love. Growing sons, to whom mother had been all-in-all, formed David-and-Jonathan friendships that were fostered beneath her hospitable roof. No sigh of reproach, no hint of maternal pain was permitted to cloud the sky beneath which adolescence ripened. To-day, that mother has her rich reward. In terms of anno domini she has reached old age. But the grownup children whose destinies have been shaped to their separate pattern, and who have learned so much of life’s most lasting values in the process, perpetuate her eternal youth. One and all they have come back to the maternal heart, bringing; with them the golden sheaves of love’s later harvesting. To the mother who watched over them from afar while they wove the varied fabric of their own lives, the mother whose bright, brave and ever-faithtul adherence to a creed that spurned maternal jealousy, whose letters sometimes formed the only link with her fledglings as they spread their wings ot»er the world, is rendered an autumnal allegiance that paints with its own rich afterglow her winter sky. Silken-light was the chain with which she held the child-loves that gathere'd their rosebuds in strangers’ gardens. Strong as steel is the bond of adult affection that links middleaged sons and daughters to a snowyhaired old lady who has smiled through 70 summers. But it is as “Grannie” that she savours the sweetest bouquet of the wine of life. On “Grannie’s” wrinkled cheek are imprinted the kisses that were her’s ere her own brood took wing; her frail hands can- scarcely hold the wealth of love that Is poured out to her. The child-loves of her children’s childreji. Her’s is the garden beyond the gates of home where the rosebuds are gathered; her’s the house of magic outside the confines of the parental. roof. It has all come back to her. the love that never tugged at filial heartsrings with possessive greed.

APRICOT TRIFLE

This may be made with tinned or bottled fruit, or with fresh if it is available. Strain the syrup from a tin of apricots, and boil it with a tablespoonful of castor sugar for half an hour. Cut four small sponge cakes into thin slices, lay them in a gl&ss or pretty china dish, and pour the syrup over them, leaving it for about half an hour to soak in. At the end of that time lay the apricot halves on top of the cake, and sprinkle about a tablespoonful of l4mon juice over. Blanche a tablespoonful of almonds, cut them into small pieces, and stick them here and there in the top of the trifle. For special occasions, whipped cream may be added. The cake and fruit should then be arranged round the sides of the dish, and the cream piled in the centre and decorated with the almonds.