Ragged homes and how to mend themBayly, Mrs. (Mary)
History
Ragged homes and how to mend them
Bayly, Mrs. (Mary)
Charities -- Great Britain; Poor -- England -- London
In introducing subjects of a domestic nature, the word “_us_” should be
more frequently used than “_you_.” It is well sometimes to speak
particularly of our own difficulties and mistakes; it helps our listeners
to regard us as fellow-sufferers—as friends, who can understand and
sympathise with them. When a poor mother tells us how much misery the
bad behaviour of her children is causing her, we must not say (though it
might be true), “Ah! that is just the natural consequence of all your bad
management; if you had only done what I advised, it would not have
happened.” It must be—(and what mother cannot truthfully say so?)—“Ah! I
can feel for you; for my children trouble _me_ a good deal sometimes, and
occasion me much anxiety. I don’t know what I should do, if I could not
bring them to God in prayer, and hope in His mercy for them.”
On one occasion, while about to leave home for a few weeks, I received a
message from a poor woman that several of her children had been attacked
by fever. I could not, of course, go to her then; but I wrote to her the
next day from the sea-side. I happened to mention, in my letter, that I
was under some anxiety for the health of one of _my_ children. In her
reply, after thanking me for my remembrance of her, she said, “And I
thank you very much for telling me about your own child being ill. I
pray for her, too, when I pray for my own children; and I seem to feel
more sure that God will hear me.”
During the first year, as I have already mentioned, I had to conduct this
society alone; being without the kind assistance which I now enjoy. I
was, of course, very anxious that nothing should ever prevent my being
there at the appointed time. I had at one time, for some days, been
suffering from toothache; and when the day for the meeting came, I was in
such an unnerved state, that the slightest noise distressed me very much.
But when the evening came, I felt that I must go. I remember standing at
the foot of the stairs, trembling in every nerve; and wondering how it
was possible to mount to the top, and go into the room to face all the
women. I had, indeed, to look up to “Him who giveth power to the faint;”
and He did not forsake me.
After the preliminary business was over, and as I sat down to read, I
said, “Now, though you are generally so quiet and orderly, I must ask you
to-night to be, if possible, still more so. I have been suffering very
much from pain in my face; and it has made me so nervous, that I cannot
bear any noise. When my children came to me to-day, after dinner, though
they tried to be quiet, yet even their moving about made me so much
worse, that I had to send them away to the nursery. After they were
gone, and the room was still, I thought that some of you, no doubt,
suffered sometimes just in the same way, and that you had no nursery to
send your children to; and I felt very sorry for you.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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