Note the atmosphere that surrounded the cradle of
each of the babes of whom we have been speaking.
In the first home we find prayer, love, hope, and
tenderness; in the last, sin, hatred, crime, and villainy.
Oh that mothers everywhere would take warning!
If only these two pictures could be framed and hung
in the recesses of every mother’s heart where
they might teach their silent lesson! If only
mothers might see how powerful for good or evil is
their influence; how the affections and the mental
powers may be moulded by prayer and maternal love,
and how the groundwork for the future of the child
may be laid in its early training!
A sensible mother has a charm and wields an influence
that takes a fast hold on the hearts of those who
are dear to her. The kindly sympathy of youth,
the deep affection of manhood, can be traced to influences
that began at mother’s knee.
What true, prayerful mother does not feel as her child
closely nestles to her bosom that she is invested
with a divine, mysterious power, an influence which
she can not understand? Then it is that she sees
her imperfections and longs for wisdom to know how
to guide her child. God alone can supply that
understanding. She is her child’s book of
wisdom, love, and, beauty, but she should be of God’s
writing.
A PRAYING MOTHER.
Still another mother comes before my mind—an
earnest, zealous, pious mother, who fashioned her
life and example continually by God’s Word and
endeavored daily to teach her children the deep truths
of salvation in language so simple that they could
understand, to seek out the causes of their failures
and discouragements, and to give them timely advice
and instruction.
As I trace a few of her experiences, which are all
true incidents, I trust they may sink into some perplexed
mother’s heart and enable her to wield the instruments
of love and prayer about her darlings and to be more
able to guide their tender hearts in the right course.
Mrs. Worthington lived in the great city of Chicago,
in a small cottage on Portland Avenue near Thirty-first
Street. Nothing about the dwelling was elaborate;
everything was simple, but very neat. Pretty vines
trailed gracefully over the porch and windows, and
a few flower beds filled up the dull nooks and corners.
In front of the house was a grassy lawn enclosed by
a picket fence. Here the children could play apart
from the rough waifs that thronged the street.
Within the cottage the same quiet taste was in evidence.
Every day in her cozy sitting-room Mrs. Worthington
talked with her little girls, Bessie and Louise.
In times of trouble and perplexity she bowed with
them in prayer. How much the children enjoyed
their mother’s comradeship and counsel!
The mother realized the importance of these early
impressions made on the child’s mind. She
had promised God to do all in her power to train her
children for heaven. She had commenced early,
even from the time she had first looked into the depths
of their innocent eyes.
