This separation, which was felt as a great benefit at the time, greatly
estranged the affections of the child from her own people. She saw us so
seldom that she almost regarded us, when she did meet, as strangers;
and I often deeply lamented the hour when I had unwittingly suffered
the threefold cord of domestic love to be unravelled by absence, and the
flattering attentions which fed the vanity of a beautiful child,
without strengthening her moral character. Mrs. H----, whose husband was
wealthy, was a generous, warmhearted girl of eighteen. Lovely in person,
and fascinating in manners, and still too young to have any idea of
forming the character of a child, she dressed the little creature
expensively; and, by constantly praising her personal appearance, gave
her an idea of her own importance which it took many years to eradicate.
It is a great error to suffer a child, who has been trained in the hard
school of poverty and self-denial, to be transplanted suddenly into
the hot-bed of wealth and luxury. The idea of the child being so much
happier and better off blinds her fond parents to the dangers of her
new situation, where she is sure to contract a dislike to all useful
occupation, and to look upon scanty means and plain clothing as a
disgrace. If the reaction is bad for a grown-up person, it is almost
destructive to a child who is incapable of moral reflection. Whenever
I saw little Addie, and remarked the growing coldness of her manner
towards us, my heart reproached me for having exposed her to temptation.
Still, in the eye of the world, she was much better situated than
she could possibly be with us. The heart of the parent could alone
understand the change.
So sensible was her father of this alteration, that the first time he
paid us a visit he went and brought home his child.
“If she remain so long away from us, at her tender years,” he said, “she
will cease to love us. All the wealth in the world would not compensate
me for the love of my child.”
The removal of my sister rendered my separation from my husband doubly
lonely and irksome. Sometimes the desire to see and converse with him
would press so painfully on my heart that I would get up in the night,
strike a light, and sit down and write him a long letter, and tell him
all that was in my mind; and when I had thus unburdened my spirit, the
letter was committed to the flames, and after fervently commending
him to the care of the Great Father of mankind, I would lay down
my throbbing head on my pillow beside our first-born son, and sleep
tranquilly.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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