MOTHERS' CORNER.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 10301, 4 November 1911, Page 4

MOTHERS' CORNER.

4. (Specially compiled, for the "Star.") " Every homo is a mint for the coining of character." THE CHILD MIND. (By MRS CUNNINGTON.) It is about the child's mind that we havo boeu writing all these little- articles. You will remember we talked first of rousing the children to notice Nature—all its varied beauties, whether of hidden moss and tiny fern, or of stars and sunsets. Nature is just the one companion of our life that we can never get rid of. Kho is always with us, so wo may as well make friends with her and learn to understand some of .her wonderful language. Flowers and stars seem most attractive at first; they are so conspicuous, so easily seen ; they arc, so to say, the most brilliant letters iu Nature's book. Then we talked next of our beautiful religion, Christianity, and we want our children to know something about the good and great men who brought it to our Motherland. And to-day I am going to talk, not of flowers and stars, nor of far-away human beings looking down upon us from the distant days of history, but of human beings nearer and closer to us. • A long time ago some great Italians painted very beautiful pictures about sacred subjects. People so admired and delighted, in these pictures that they were often afraid lest some misfortune should happen to them—such as fire or discolouration of tho lovely tints and hues by the action of time and atmosphere. So clever men, themselves wonderful artists, determined to try and preserve the thoughts and ideas of the original painters by reproducing their pictures in some strong and enduring material. They prepared a soft cement and spread it over the walls of some of the churches; then they took coloured _ marbles or precious stones, or exquisite stained glass, and. embedded them into the cement, copying with loyal precision the original pictures. Thus, you see, tho soft cement readily received the little coloured gems and held them fast and secure; and people now look upon beautiful pictures that cannot fade or vanish, and rejoice to think the world has such beautiful thoughts and ideas kept firmly impressed on an enduring material. The process is slow, and needs ad the patience and loving application. of those who cut and carve and mould tli« gems. Some pictures have taken twenty years or more to finish. Now, we mothers can carry out. very much the same clever and beautiful work if we will only take the trouble to do so. . . *

We nil know the, child's brain is very soft aud receptive (liice the prepared cement), and the question is, shall .we allow that precious cement, the soft receptive brain, to be studded all over with what I may call clumsy, ugly bits of tho baser metals,- reproducing poor, had pictures, or shall wo. with thoughtful care, try to embed as glistening gems beautiful thoughts that build themselves up bv degrees into harmonious and lovely mental pictures? Tho subject is well worth thinking about. Why is it that children, as the years roll on, lose tho look of trust and confidence and loving freedom of earlier daysP They grow critical, suspicious, oftentimes resentful. Is it not because we mothers have' been careless and permitted all sorts of rubbish—unkindly, petty, spiteful ideas—to sink into the little brains, thereby outlining painful piotureß. ■ "I'll send you home with a flea in your ear!" shrieked a mother in. tho tram the other day to her sportive boy of five. I heard her. Well, now, don't you think that shriek in. that mental picture of vulgar nastiness will find a soft niche on the child's brain? Of course it will! It is thus wo make ugly pictures for the child-soul to Jookupon. Arc there no lovely thoughts, no gentle sounds, no beautiful ideas close around us? Are there no echoes of angel voices, no lovely tales of heroes, living close amongst us to-day? ,Are there no pretty poetic fancies singing and lingering in the radiant air that we can catch i'.nd fix like tures on the young child's freshly moulded mind? Of course there are. Why don't we embed precious ideas, that gleam and glisten with richness of colour and depth of tone, into the brain cement of our growing; girls and boys? Repeat pretty stories about your neighbours; point out tho beautiful features in some woman's life, how loving and patient she was under trial; talk about those miners at-the "pit's mouth risking their lives to save a comrade. Dwell upon the bravery of that stewardess on one of our coastal steamers who stuck to l\er duty when all else was fast losing its grip on her life. Gems and pearls spread around us by human hearts and hands! Pick them up: impress them on the soft cement of your child's brain, till, little by little, the young thinker will reproduce in his soul pictures of surpassing loveliness, and his face become radiant with faith and trust and joy. "Dogs," said a great thinker, "in a picture- gallery are only interested in smells and coiners.'' We walk through a picture world, if only we will see it, but how often, in our blind stupidity, are we peering in dark corners or sniffing for putrid matter? ""In every person," says RusKn, " who comes near you, look for what is good and strong: honour that; rejoico in it, and, as you can, try to imitate it." St Paul expresses the same idea in those well-known words: " Finally, my brethren, whatsoever things are" true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things aro pure, whatsoever things aro lovely, think on those tilings." P.S.—A mother told me the other day that sho always gave a beautiful thought to each child as sho said goodnight: she called it "winding up tho clock."