DEVOTED PARENTS

Evening Star, Issue 25939, 2 November 1946, Page 12

DEVOTED PARENTS

(Written by Mart Soon for-the ‘ Evening Star.’)

Having received an SOS from my old friends, the Wilsons, I went last week to see them in what, they had led me to believe, was a major calamity. They were in great distress; it was, they said, a double blow. A few days before, their only' son, repatriated two years ago and ever since quite obviously a square peg in the round hole of that prosperous farm, had finally declared,his distaste for the life and had accepted a job in town.' “And after my slaving to hand him on a first-class farm,” Sam mourned. “ What possessed the boy? I’ye always brought him up to understand that he was to be a farmer and inherit the place some day.” “ And we’ve always slaved for. both the children and thought of nothing but giving them what they want,” added Martha, his' wife, lugubriously. Her own story dove-tailed neatly into the other. Jill, her only daughter, had long been engaged to a young man of whom hey parents thoroughly approved. It was “ a suitable match,” and arrangements had gone forward for a wedding on a sumptuous scale. Admittedly, Jill had never cared for the idea; being a sensible girl, she had thought it all “a silly fuss ” and “a waste of money,” but had been borne down by her mother’s enthusiasm. Alpiost at the last moment revolt had come, and the young couple had slipped away to a. distant town and been married quietly, with only two old friends for witnesses. It was a terrible blow to Martha. “ I’d planned everything: and the garden is at its best at this time of year,” she wept. “I was going to have the most wonderful breakfast, and everybody who is anybody would have been there. A wedding any girl would like to look back on. What can have possessed her? So utterly selfish—and after all we’ve no use saying so at that moment, and most devoted mother.”

No denying it; that “ devotion ” lay at the root of the matter. But it was no use saying so at that moment, and so I let Mrs Wilson, mourn on about the ingratitude of children, and lieltf my peace, save for vague sympathetic noises that did not commit me. And I take considerable credit to myself for this abstention, since the mention of gratitude between parents and children, or indeed between any who love one another, has always been as a red rag to a bull to me. But it-was not the moment for moralising. And yet, as I'came away from that pleasant house, I reflected, for the hundredth time, on the folly of parents’ who make themselves slaves for their children, and, in return, expect to possess them and to rule their lives,. “ A devoted. parent —what a silly expression it is, and why should anyone consider such devotion a virtue? Of course they were devoted—the normal parent always is; but the wise one spends a good deal of time in carefully concealing the fact from everybody, most of all from the children . themselves. The devotion that «makes parents. slave for children who do not desire it is largely selfishness and at best self-gratification. 1 remembered Jill once saying to me : “ Parents'are curious birds. They seem to consider that you should go down on your knees in thankfulness to them for bringing you into the world and supporting you and making a fuss of you. As a matter of fact, they produced us because they wanted to, and supported us because they had to—and as for the fuss, well, who wants that? ” Brutal, of course, and not entirely true, but representing the natural reaction of young people who have been half-smothered by the devotion of adoring parents. No denying that children enjoy, spoiling and adoration; but when they have attained some measure of detachment and wisdom they are quick to resent a process which has left them singularly defenceless in a. harsh world. Since ’'spoilt children must of necessity take it out of someone, they usually begin, upon the parents whom they, hold responsible. Later, if they are of the right stuff, they turn the searchlight of their growing ’experience upon themselves, and profit thereby. But surely it is sheer nonsense to expect gratitude for the unwise affection that has cost them dear?

Perhaps the worst, result of parental enslavement is that it seems to imply in return not merely gratitude but subservience. Not. in small 1 things; the devoted parent abases himself in all trifles; it is when it comes to major problems—the son’s future, the daughter’s career or marriage—that the dictator’s cloven hoof appears, “ Surely after all I’ve done for you, you won’t desert the farm?’’ Sam Wilson had said to his sou. “ The least you could have done after my lifetime’s devotion was to have the kind of wedding I wanted,’’ Martha complained bitterly to the unrepentant Jill. To me she said: “ After all, it was only a small matter; she ought to have taken my way.” Here I found my self-imposed silence hard to maintain, for I did not really thinlk this a small thing. I have seen too many girls sacrifice their own, and certainly their bridegroom’s prejudices for the sake of mother’s love of “ a really nice wedding.” Syrely this is a matter that concerns no one save the. couple themselves, and to yield to' others in such an affair is to start off on the wrong foot in the difficult new; relationship of marriage. However,. that happens to be a personal prejudice of my own, and perhaps it -would not have hurt Jill to yield once more; but the question was—exactly when and where would she cease to yield? But the point that does matter is that parents have no right to dictate at all to their children, either in' their choice of a career, in their politics, or in their manner of life. The whole root of the trouble that so often arises between the generations is that some parents still believe in the right of'possession as. applied to- individuals. “-My ” children;, what a pity that we lay such emphasis upon the personal pronoun! But, if parents have no right to decide ,their children’s futures, neither have children any excuse for expecting parents to modify their lives or disturb the peace of their Indian summer on their behalf. If the bond of this nicely-adjusted relationship is to survive happily, it must rest ,on complete freedom on both sides. Only in this clear atmosphere can love ever breathe freely, for no affection ever flourished under duress nor survived demands Honesty in word and criticism ; friendship that understands and sympathises but is not blind; truth tliat can always be trusted to remain firm however hard the struggle with prejudice; freedom to act according to one’s own- beliefs, to behave according to one’s own standards—these are the essential ingredients in tjiat complicated recipe known as “ family life.” Complicated, but how well worth the trouble!