KEEP UP YOUR ANGLOSAXON !

Auckland Star, Volume LXX, Issue 201, 26 August 1939, Page 3

KEEP UP YOUR ANGLOSAXON !

WE hear much these days about educating the young and vocational training and training youth to take its place in this .-..whirligig that we call life. We too, at times the woeful tale of those who think we are wasting or misusing our gradually increasing leisure. Undoubtedly there is much of good and much of truth in these statements. But to me it seems that if there is one class above all others in whom this leisure problem seems most pitiable, it i* in the grandmothers of our race. Mostly it is the mothers who receive all the sympathy and pity. But this seems to my mind a misplaced sympathy. The mother of a family is probably, in fact almost certainly, overworked. But at least she has the compensation of a full life and an interesting one. For children, though they cause us untold work and worry, are interesting. Wo watch them grow, we help them bear their little burdens, we assist them with their work. Always in the background, rendy to be called upon when needed, whether it is a new frock to bo made in a hurry, a troublesome spot in the home work, or a best, girl to be entertained, is mother, the person who makes the wheels run smoothly.

ByH. d. Lamont

But what happens when, as is Inevitable, the family leave the home nest and build for themselves? They no longer need mother. True, if they are what is known as flood Children, and there are many of these, there will still exist between them and their parents a real affection. They will still run to gee "mum" as frequently as possible. Mum and dad will always be welcome visitors in their now homes. Wclcome, yes; but visitors, too. Bereft of Her Interest The children no longer need mother. They have prown tip, gone on, and taken her occupation with them. After years of a life filled to overflowing with work and interest there comes a time when the last child lias left home to make his own way, and mother is left with all the time in the world on her hands and nothing to do. Her occupations and her interests have gone and she does not know what to do with herself. Throughout all the years of their youth she has identified herself with her children, their hopes and fears, their joy« and sorrows; all these have been hevs. She had had no life of her own apart from them. And now it is no more. Instead there is a great emptiness which she endeavours vainly to fill. "Oh, your grandchildren," suy the wiseacres. And perhaps she does, in her desperate need, till her life to some extent with her grandchildren. But dear as they are, thej can never take the place of her own in her life.

Often we hear it said that grandma 19 more indulgent with her grandchildren than «he was with her own children, and this is adduced as evidence that they love their grandchildren better than they loved their children.

But to me this indulgence seeing evidence tliat they love their grandchildren less. For their own children they considered the good or harm a gift might do either to body or charactcr. Hut for a grandchild, a few sweets will give it pleasure, and if it has tooth or tummy ache, well, its mother will ha\c to look after it, not granny. Prepare for "Leisure" But even when this need for an interest in life is partly satisfied by an interest in tho grandchildren, this is not enough. No, I would impress on every young mother, and every girl who thinks of marriage—and what young girl does not—learn something for your old age. Cultivate some hobby, some occupation that interests you, and keep it up in spite of your family cares and overwork. It seems so hopeless sometimes to get the leisure necessary. But make it, take it, steal it. Neglect something. Yotir need is greater than that of anything you can neglect. Prepare for those barren years; those years when your family have gone, those years that all through your busy, happy, overflowing middle years you have looked forward to with pleasure as the leisured years of your life. Yes, the lei«ured years'. Yet only too frequently they turn, as the dead sea fruit, to ashes in your mouth. But the young do not know this, cannot realise it. Old Doctor't Advice I well remember as a girl I sat by the fire in a little country hotel where I boarded, studying Anglo-Saxon. An old doctor, sending a.few days there, took my book from my hand and translated several pages for me. Then he handed it back and, glancing at the ring with its winking stones that shone on the third finger of my left hand, he said, "And so you are going to be married. Well, my dear, keep up your Anglo-Saxon. It will be a great comfort to you in your married life."

I did not say so—at the time I was too shy and too polite to contradict him —but I thought his remarks foolish. What could Anglo-Saxon do to make my married life more happy? But I have since realised the wisdom of his advice. Anglo-Saxon may have its place and be a great comfort in one's married life. Kven if life seems full to overflowing at the moment, it is wisdom of wisdom to keep in repair those little tasks and hobbies that interest us most. We will need them again—later.

1 recall with sorrow and heartfelt sympathy the wistful remark one grandmother made to me. "I think everyone should learn something of botany when they are young," she said. "It is such an interesting subject and one could fill endless hours with enjoyment if one had the necessary knowledge to begin. I would have loved to learn botany; but it is too late now."

Can there be anything sadder in life than the words, "It is too late now?"

So 1 would urge you young women, you happy women with your families still about you, filling your every hour and every thought, spare a moment now and then to prepare for your old age. Keep in touch, or at least within calling distance of some craft, some study, some hobby.. that interest! you above all others." It may seem useless now, though even this I doubt, for I think an interest outside one's family brings one back refreshed to cope once more with the cares of a growing family. But even if you do not value it in the present, a time will come when you will be glad of that interest. ■

In the words with which the old doctor advised me in my youth, so would I pass on to you his words of wisdom, "Keep up your Anglo-Saxon. It will be a great coinfort to you in your married life."