Mothers and Motherhood - A Reflection on Family Life

If the father is the head of the family, the mother is its heart. I do not know of a better way of showing the true worth and position of the mother of a family than by likening her to its heart.

Strength must be tempered with gentleness, or there is danger of rule by force. The strength of man is required for the protection and up­building of the family. The gentleness of woman is just as necessary to restrain that strength and sustain it. For strength needs maintenance as well as restraint. The mother's sacrifices and devotion reanimate the father when his strength wanes from exhaustion, and restrain him when it wouM lead him to excessive measures. Children who are blessed with a firm father and a gentle mother have something for which to thank God all the days of their lives.

In considering the father, it seems that he means more to the family than does the mother. But in considering the mother, it seems that she is the more essential. The truth is, both have their necessary place and dignity, and in general it can­not be said which makes more for the well-being of the children. Where father and mother are what they ought to be, their mutual influence on the children is ideal, and though different in kind, usually equal in degree.

A good father means everything to a family if the mother is not the right kind. And a good mother has often made the children forget that they have a bad father. It almost seems that whenever the father is delinquent, the mother rises to noble heights of devotion and service, and if the mother fails, the father assumes added duties nobly.

Neither father nor mother, however, can fall short of his or her duty without a decided detri­ment to the children in one way or another. Chil­dren without a good father lose something which no mother can make up for. And children without a good mother will go through life deprived of something which the best of fathers cannot supply. Neither father nor mother, therefore, can afford to leave to the other the part which God has intended specifically for him or her.

I do not need to say anything about the worth and dignity of a mother. The man or child who needs to be told that nothing on earth approaches so near to the divine as does a mother's love, knows not what a mother is, and cannot be made to know. The man or child who does not know the sublime influence of a mother's love has not felt the most inspiring sentiment that one human being can arouse in another.

Instead of glorifying the mother, I wish to say a few words to her which may help her to become what every mother desires to be - the best human influence in the lives and hearts of the children whom God has given her. It is hard for me to restrain myself from eulogizing instead of advis­ing the mother.

Taking for granted, therefore, that mothers are the loftiest expression of the goodness of God in this world of ours, let me say that they should do nothing to lessen the wonderful influence for good which they can exert. A mother should remember her function in the family - she is its heart.

What a world of meaning that one word sug­gests! It is the heart that suffers and sometimes breaks. It is the heart that rejoices and over­flows with joy. Suffering and sympathy make the mother so cherished, so inspiring, so loved. Suf­fering and sympathy also bring to the mother her greatest joy. For her heart is so good that she delights to suffer for the well-being of others. Her kind, gentle nature it is that cheers the chil­dren and their father, and helps them over the rough places on the journey of life.

But if the mother has her cares and sufferings, she also has her joys. Indeed, it may be said that no human joy is comparable to that expe­rienced by a good mother. Every joy of the chil­dren and their father is hers twofold. If her mother's love causes her to suffer with her family, it also enables her to rejoice with them, and no human joy is so free from alloy as a mother's.

Besides she realizes that in proportion as she lives for her family, they live for her. The good mother is the queen of the household. She reigns supreme over the hearts of her subjects. More than that, she is the inspiration of the father of the family. Under the gentle influence of a good mother, the father of a family finds it easy to toil and to face the trials of life. Oh, that every mother might realize her dignity and power, for she holds the key to the souls of her children and it is she who opens their little hearts and places in them the seeds of future character.

Motherhood exercises the most intimate and powerful influence known among men. Some of the greatest Saints were the children of saintly mothers. St. Augustine was the fruit of St. Monica's example and prayers and tears. St. Louis of France found in his mother Blanche a holy model. Her words, spoken to him in his youth, "I had rather see you dead at my feet than guilty of mortal sin," were engraved on his heart and influenced him throughout his entire life. The great St. Bernard was the child of a mother so holy that virtue, inculcated by her example, be­came almost second nature. Bad mothers have also left their impress on their children. The mother of Nero was a murderess. What he was the whole world knows to its disgrace. The mother of Voltaire was notably immoral. The son surpassed the mother in vice. Rightly, then, may we say, "The mother in her office holds the key of the soul, and stamps the coin of character on her child." What a wonderful responsibility that puts upon the mother! As the potter fashions the clay, so does the mother mould the child by her precepts, but still more by her example. Her responsibility gives to the mother her lofty place in life and justifies the poet when he exclaims, "Then crown her queen of the world."

The first school a child attends is the one pre­sided over by its mother. On those early lessons begun in the cradle and continued in the home, the career of after life mainly depends. Youth is like wax for receiving impressions and like steel for retaining them. If in the tender years of childhood the mother has placed the proper impress on her children, they will be the better for it all their lives. But if, as sometimes happens, a bad im­pression has been made in the classroom of child­hood, the misfortune of it for mother and for child will indeed become evident as time goes on.

As the children grow up the solicitous care of the good mother follows them in the home and outside. You may fancy that all this is a burden on the mother. As well say that a miner who safeguards the gold he has dug from the earth is burdened by its care. As the miner looks ahead and sees in vision the comfort and luxury which his wealth will procure, and in that prospect finds peace and joy in spite of his labor, so does the good mother rejoice in the care of her children, forseeing that her affectionate care will make both them and herself happier and better in the years to come.

The good mother is like a gardener who cul­tivates delicate plants. The gardener must prepare the soil and keep it moist and remove every harmful growth. But the joy he experiences as the plants rise from the ground and develop into beautiful flowers, more than repays him for his labor. The pleasure of beholding the result of his painstaking care is so great that frequently he cultivates a garden not for what it produces but for the pleasure of producing. When the plants are human souls, when the tender growth is one's own child, what must be the joy of the gar­dener! And as the devoted mother watches her flowers unfold, beholds their love responding to her own, what joy on earth compares with hers! "Then crown her queen of the world," for queen she is. The world is what mothers make it.

Napoleon, on being asked what France needed most, as it lay prostrate after prolonged war, re­plied, "Mothers I" Mothers of the right sort, he wanted, mothers who would rear children to pro­mote the glory of France. Napoleon knew of what he spoke. He had seen men under all con­ditions, and with his genius for realizing situations he perceived that the greatest need of his fallen country was not wealth, but mothers.

The mother it is who by her gentle care trans­forms the "young animal," the being with its pos­sibilities of selfishness and cruelty, into a Chris­tian man. She thus cooperates with God not only in the creation of her child but also in the forma­tion of a cultured man and child of God. Rightly conceived, what a dignity is motherhood! These days, alas, some mothers fail to appreciate their lofty station. Instead of living for the substan­tial joys of motherhood they spend their energies on trifles. Like children, they desire nothing but sweets, failing to realize that nature calls for substantial diet and not merely attractive desserts. Desserts are very good in their place, but they must not take precedence of substantial food.

Some mothers neglect the home for outside. Relaxation and amusement are necessary for mothers, but not at the expense of their motherly duties. Nature has so ordered that a good mother finds her greatest relaxation and entertainment in the home. No amount of outside distraction will compensate for what she loses by spending her­self on external amusements and persons. I do not mean at all to belittle social duties and proper amusements. These are not only desirable but necessary. But they are not paramount. Some mothers seem to make visiting and shopping and display their main purpose of living. And all the while they are losing the God-given joys of the home and, moreover, their children are grow­ing up without due supervision and the father of the family is often secondary to outsiders. I know that I may be considered extreme in speaking thus, but if you knew of all the broken homes caused by frivolous mothers you would desire me to be even more vigorous in exposing this malady, which is more pronounced now perhaps than ever be­fore. Because of licentious magazines and in­decent theatres and a worldly code of morals a premium is now put upon the very things which formerly were in disrepute. All this has resulted in wrong standards of motherhood among many women.

Some frivolous mothers measure their happi­ness by the amount of money they can spend and by the capacity of the father of the family to furnish them with dress and outside amuse­ment. Such mothers wonder why it is that after a time they are like dried up cisterns. They have sold their inheritance for a mess of pottage. The supreme joys of the home have been bartered for outside distraction, which brings in the end noth­ing but emptiness. Not that a mother should not have recreation, I repeat, but a good mother usually finds that her chief pleasure is the home.

Please do not understand me to mean that a mother should be tied down to the home. But there are some mothers who are almost strangers to the home. They are uneasy unless they have a date for this and that, and they count that day lost which has not been spent in paying or re­ceiving a visit.

They are surprised at length when they realize that the home has no attraction for them. But it is they who have made it unattractive. If the mother runs about, the children will run loose also. The father on returning from a hard day's work will find a cold reception. The mother has spent herself on outsiders, and she has nothing left for the children and their father.

Soon she has nothing left for herself. The affection and esteem of her family have been lost. As the children grow up, they seek their amuse­ment outside, away from the home made unat­tractive by a selfish mother. Then, too late, she realizes that she has made a mistake. Her home is not a home. Her children find their pleasure anywhere, except at the fireside, their father seeks his pleasure elsewhere, and the home has gone forever.

How very, very many homes have been made desolate by such procedure! The woman is amazed when she hears about the devotion of other families to their mothers. She wonders why her children and their father do not mean for her all that other families mean for other mothers. Oh, if I could only make mothers realize how much their happiness and that of their families depends upon devotion to the home!

Nature has fitted all things for their appointed purposes. And nature has so constituted a mother that her greatest peace and happiness is found in motherly duty. There need be no fear that she will become a piece of furniture in the home. If she does her part, she will find that her children and their father are more solicitous for her wel­fare and enjoyment than for their own.

In a thousand ways, all that is done for them will come back to the mother. How to make their mother happy will be their first thought. They will find ways and means of giving her more pleasure in the home and outside than she would ever get by being always on the lookout for her own amusement and distraction.

Never in the history of the world has there been such a craze for selfish enjoyment as of late. People seek amusement here and distraction there, thinking only of themselves. With what result? In this era of selfishness there is more dissatisfaction, disappointment, distress and disorder than ever before.

The worst way to satisfy self is to seek self. Selfishness is the worst possible investment a per­son can make. We are images of God. God's happiness is to make others happy. The closer we approach to His way, the happier we shall be. The very essence of goodness lies in im­parting itself to others. The best and happiest people in the world are they who find their pleasure in doing something for others. It is the one pleasure that has no unpleasant reaction.

I remember on one occasion meeting a long­shoreman on the docks of Manhattan and saying to him: "My dear man, you have a hard and long day of it."

"Very true, Father," he replied, "but when I think of my children and their mother, and that my wages give them the comforts they need, the day does not seem hard or long."

That was wisdom in a nutshell. That man did not find life a burden. That man was happy in making others happy. God bless him, and the many like him!

After all, what do we get out of life that is worth while! Dress, food, travel, society, enter­tainment? When you sum it all up, what does it give you that really contributes to a contented mind? A good friend is more than all the style and amusement of life. And if a friend is one of the greatest blessings of life, what must chil­dren and their father be to a mother!

We like to please our friend. A mother likes to please her children and their father. Who does not know the great joy that comes from giv­ing a friend a substantial and desirable present? A good mother gives to her children and their father the best present of all - herself. And this is a pleasure she enjoys, not only occasionally, but daily. Mrs. Gadabout often wonders how Mrs. So-and-so can stand her quiet and confined life. And all the while Mrs. So-and-so, a good mother, is thanking God for her paradise on earth.

Oh, the joys of a mother who is a good mother! Oh, the happiness of the mother who spends her­self on her children and their father! Drudgery, Mrs. Gadabout calls it, but a little bit of heaven the good mother considers it. Is there any joy in the world like working for those you love? And no human love is, or should be, greater than that of a mother towards her children and their father. The mother who does not find her greatest joy in living for her family is hardly a mother at all.

Of course I know as well as you, Mrs. Gada­bout, that a woman should not be tied down to the routine of domestic duty. There are social duties as well as domestic. The mother who fails in her social duties is unfair to herself and her family. For certain circles the social duties are imperative. But the good mother will know how to discharge them, not as a detriment to the home, but as a benefit to it.

I have known social butterflies, mothers of families, who did not see their children more than once a week! Of course that was among people of wealth, where maids and governesses were sup­posed to look after the children. But maid or governess is not a mother, and it may be too late when the mother realizes it.

In the ordinary walks of life, Mrs. Gadabout has no maids or governesses, but, nevertheless, she sacrifices the home, the children, and their father to her craze for novelty and amusement. Such a mother must pay an awful tax for her pleasure. When she can least afford it that tax will be levied, for the time will come when she no longer cares to gad about. She will wake up to the emptiness of it all and then turn to seek her comfort in her home, only to find that she has none. Meanwhile the children and their father have lost the best human influence. in their lives.

But the good mother! As the years steal on, the affection of the children and their father grows stronger and stronger. Their only thought is for her. She who found her joy in sacrificing her­self for others now finds that it has all come back to her manyfold. Idolized by her family, she reigns queen of the home. Her heaven, it seems, has begun before she says farewell to earth.

And that is another thing which the good mother has always in view, that this life is not heaven, but only the way to it. She expects a way of the cross, and that very expectancy makes it less hard to walk in the path of aflliction when it stretches before her, as sooner or later it does for all.

She teaches her children and their father by her example to live in this world, but not for it. She is careful that family prayers are said, that Mass is duly attended, and the Sacraments frequently received. She inculcates piety by word and deed.

Although solicitous for the worldly success of her children, she gives them to understand that it must never be attained at the cost of virtue. She teaches truthfulness, purity and consideration by her own high ideals. She knows that if she is to have the love and respect of her children she must show love and respect to their father.

While insisting on the necessity of the virtues of religion, she does not overlook the social vir­tues. She realizes that the religion of her chil­dren will lose nothing before God, but will gain before men if it be adorned by the outward graces and refinements which constitute good manners and are held in esteem by good society.

To live for the eye of God, but not to over­look the eye of man, that is her lesson to her little ones. She knows that often a very virtuous person may be put down as vicious because of vul­garity. Vulgarity is not sin. But as people see only the exterior, a virtuous person should avoid vulgarity as a disease. The good mother will inculcate this in the minds of her children.

How often have you traced a non-Catholic's condemnation of our Religion to the fact that a Catholic maid, butler or workman was careless or lacking in the social virtues? A good Catholic would die rather than offend God by sin. Yet often enough people without religion, sinning seriously and continually, appear more virtuous than some Cathohics simply on account of the social virtues.

Mothers of families should be the first to see the importance of the niceties and conventionalities of good society. Children brought up in the right Catholic way will have manners superior to all that the rules of society alone can give. Keep God's commandments and do not neglect the polite laws of human intercourse. That should be the aim in every family, and it will be accomplished mainly by the influence of a good mother.

A mother who has good children possesses more than money or anything else can give. You know the story of the Roman matron who, when asked by a frivolous gad-about of that era, to display her jewels, called her two sons, and embracing them, said: "Behoid my jewels!"

On a certain occasion a mother was complaining to me of her poverty. I told her I thought she was quite well off. In surprise, she declared that she could not understand my remark. I answered nothing in reply, but changed the topic of conversation. A few minutes later I returned to the matter indirectly.

"I know a gentleman who is very wealthy, and he has taken a decided fancy to your little John. He told me he would like to adopt him and he will give you fifty thousand dollars as a present if you will consent. You have seven children, and you will not miss Johnnie. What do you say?"

Of course I knew what she would say, but I was not prepared for the vigorous denunciation of the gentleman and myself which followed. It concluded by her announcing that not for fifty thousand nor for fifty million would she give up Johnnie. Smiling, I said: "Did I not tell you that you were rich ?" She, too, smiled and went away happy - and rich.

Every good mother is possessed of more wealth than she realizes. Money does not procure happiness - good motherhood does. Even though a good mother has privations to meet and disap­pointments and even ingratitude, she nevertheless has a wealth of joy in her solicitude for her loved ones.

Ingratitude is the hardest stroke she may have to bear. God may at times permit a good mother to suffer this extreme pang. But it is because He loves her as she loves her children, and He knows that affliction will make her dearer to Him. Christ and His mother knew the sting of ingrati­tude. They bore it in order to sanctify its endurance for those who accept it patiently for God's sake.

The good mother will turn even ingratitude into a source of peace and joy, realizing that by it she can draw closer to God, and also obtain His help and grace for her ungrateful ones. For the good mother loves even the ingrates of her household.

How like unto God she thus becomes, for He loves us even when we turn away from Him or positively offend Him. The Good Shepherd sought especially the sheep that strayed, and the good mother somehow seems to love with especial tenderness her strayed sheep. God made her so.

Mothers, you have a wonderful mission in the world. Not until you see God face to face will you realize what it meant to be a good mother.

From "You and Yours, Practical Talks on Family Life"
by Fr. Martin J Scott, S.J.