DEAR SIMPLICITIES

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXI, Issue 21396, 20 October 1934, Page 6 (Supplement)

DEAR SIMPLICITIES

WHAT HAVE WE LOST? IN AN AGE OF PROGRESS BY FLORENCE FISHER How many of us to-day regret the absence of those sweet simplicities that in times past, m&de life worth the living! They were times when perhaps life was not so thrilling, but its joys were wholesome, clean and lasting. In those days expectant brides wove dreams of good house-keeping into their hand-made linen sheets and table covers, and as they wove, saw romance in the fact "that as time went on those sheets and tablecloths would prove their lasting qualities, and would eventually fill their children's linen chests. Hence they took pride in their clean and regular weaving, for was it not of moment that so lasting a thing should be well done ? Again, not so many years ago, lasses in love found delicious relaxation in the art of crocheting in the finest cotton or thread, most elaborate and intricate patterns, which were shown with modesty—if the garment was not of too intimate a nature-—to adoring swains, who thought that Elizabeth Ann was the most clever and wonderful \>eing, ever designed by a merciful Creator, especially for their delectation. Needlework, Romance and Sentiment

Life, in these bygone days would surely assume for the betrothed maiden a roseate hue, the memory of..which would carry her lightly through the tribulations of -wedlock, and the task she had set herself of trying to remove all the prickly thorns and rough portions from the path of an arbitrary husband. Are we, I wonder, so very far removed to-day- from those dear simple ; Q y S —the joys of quilting parties, apple bees and sewing meetings? How perfectly wholesome a delight it was for Ellen Mary to sit primly sewing, perf haps with a golden thimble, doing her share of Aunt Dinah's quilting and subconsciously thrilling with the certainty that Horatio would call in after tea and be assigned to escort her safely homel Dear bygone days when sentiment ran rife and things were treasured for their associations! There would be a patch work quilt—of silk patches for the best bedroom and cotton pieces for the second ,bedroom... Grandma would point'out the piece of brocade that was a portion left oyer from the covering of the drawing room suite; and that piece of purple sdk was part of great aunt's afternoon dress for many years—the silk so firm and strong that it stood alone. Dear rose gardens, full of beautiful "blooms, carefully tended by mamma, where daughter suitably equipped with shady hat, basket and scissors snipped and snipped until the basket was filled! Alas, time does not allow the present day maiden to do this sweet service. She is so busy going to places. The Children of Yesterday and To-day The children of bygone days were simpler too. They firmly believed in a real Father Christmas, and a mysterious Jack Frost, who visited the window panes at "night and who'finely- sketched on them beautiful leaves and trees and weird animals, sometimes even a snow man. But to-day—what of the little people of to-day? A short time ago I was shown photographs of a most up-to-date kindergarten. Each small person —one could not call them children —had his or her. tiny table and chair, and 011 each table was a miniature typewriter, which seemed indeed to be the only young thing there. Baby fingers, but not baby minds were carefully picking out, and working the keys, with uncanny t>kill for such small beings. . " Such marvellous results! —it improves tie. child's spelling —and the results of 'their efforts at composition are wonderful I'But! there were no simple angel smiles of whole-hearted happiness on these wee folk's faces. They were' miniature adults and those little faces, that should have been smiling down on .the daisies in the grass or bent) intently over sand castles by the sea, showed the pathetic strain of concentration; Their beautiful happy childhood was already gone —that precious period of simplicities and trusting delight vanished —for what ? Is there not some way by which we can keep for -the race to come, those fairy stories, quilting parties, apple bees —all the delights of the dear simplicities of old? Is there no way by which romance and progress can walk hand in hand so that we buy our triumphs not quit® so dearly?