I heard a boy swear the other day, and it gave me a distinctly different kind of a shock than usual. I had just been reading an article in which our soldiers were called crusaders who were offering themselves, in their youth as a sacrifice in order that right might prevail against wrong and that those ideals, which are in effect the teachings of Christ, shall be accepted as the law of nations.
When I heard the boy use the name of Christ in an oath, I felt that he had belittled the mighty effort we are making, and that he had put an affront upon our brave soldiers by using lightly the name of the great Leader who first taught the principles for which they are dying. The boy had not thought of it in this way at all. He imagined that he was being very bold and witty, quite a grown man in fact.
I wonder how things came to be so reversed from the right order, that it should be thought daring and smart to swear, instead of being regarded as utterly foolish and a sign of weakness, betraying a lack of self-control. If people could only realize how ridiculous they appear when they call down the wrath of the Creator and Ruler of the Universe just because they have jammed their thumbs. I feel sure they would never be guilty of swearing again. It is so out of proportion, something as foolish and wasteful as it would be to use the long-range gun which bombarded Paris, to shoot a fly. If we call upon the Mightiest for trivial things, upon whom or what shall we call in the great moments of life?
There are some things in the world which should be damned to the nethermost regions, but surely it is not some frightened animal whom our own lack of self-control has made rebellious, or an inanimate object that our own carelessness has caused to smite us. Language loses its value when it is so misapplied and in moments of real and great stress or danger we have nothing left to say.
It is almost hopeless to try to reform older persons who have the habit of swearing fastened upon them. Like any other habit, it is difficult to break and it is useless to explain to them that it is a waste of force and nervous energy, but I think we should show children the absurdity of wasting the big shells of language on small insignificant objects. Perhaps a little ridicule might prick that bubble of conceit and the boy with his mouth full of his first oaths might not feel himself such a dashing, daredevil of a fellow if he feared that he had made himself ridiculous.
Overcoming Our Difficulties
August 20, 1918
“A difficulty raiseth the spirit of a great man. He hath a mind to wrestle with it and give it a fall. A man’s mind must be very low if the difficulty doth not make part of his pleasure.” By the test of these words of Lord Halifax, there are a number of great persons in the world today.
After all, what is a difficulty but a direct challenge? “Here I am in your way,” it says, “you cannot get around me nor overcome me! I have blocked your path!” Anyone of spirit will accept the challenge and find some way to get around or over, or thru that obstacle. Yes! And find pleasure in the difficulty for the sheer joy of surmounting it as well as because there has been an opportunity once more to prove one’s strength and cunning and by the very use of these qualities cause an increase of them.
The overcoming of one difficulty makes easier the conquering of the next until finally we are almost invincible. Success actually becomes a habit thru the determined overcoming of obstacles as we meet them one by one.
If we are not being successful, if we are more or less on the road toward failure, a change in our fortunes can be brought about by making a start, however small, in the right direction and then following it up. We can form the habit of success by beginning with some project and putting it thru to a successful conclusion however long and hard we must fight to do so; by “wrestling with” one difficulty and “giving it a fall.” The next time it will be easier.
For some reason, of course according to some universal law, we gather momentum as we proceed in whatever way we go, and just as by overcoming a small difficulty we are more able to conquer the next, tho greater, so if we allow ourselves to fail it is easier to fail the next time and failure becomes a habit until we are unable to look a difficulty fairly in the face, but turn and run from it.
There is no elation equal to the rise of the spirit to meet and overcome a difficulty, not with a foolish over-confidence but keeping things in their proper relations by praying, now and then, the prayer of a good fighter whom I used to know. “Lord make me sufficient to mine own occasion.”
When Proverbs Get Together
September 5, 1918
It had been a busy day and I was very tired, when just as I was dropping off to sleep I remembered that bit of mending I should have done for the man of the place. Then I must have dreamed, for in my fancy, I saw that rent in the garment enlarge and stretch into startlingly large proportions.
At the same time a familiar voice sounded in my ear, “A stitch in time saves nine,” it said.
I felt very discouraged indeed at the size of the task before me and very much annoyed that my neglect should have caused it to increase to nine times its original size, when on the other side of me a cheerful voice insinuated, “It is never too late to mend.”
Ah! There was that dear old friend of my grandmother who used to encourage her to work until all hours of the night to keep the family clothes in order. I felt impelled to begin at once to mend that lengthened rent, but paused as a voice came to me from a dark corner saying, “A chain is no stronger than its weakest link.”
“Shall a man put new wine into old bottles,” chimed in another. Of course not, I thought, then why put new cloth—.
But now the voices seemed to come from all about me. They appeared to be disputing and quarreling, or at least disagreeing among themselves.
“Oh what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive,” said a smug, oily voice.
“But practice makes perfect,” piped a younger voice, sweetly tho with an impudent expression.
“And if at first you don’t succeed, try, try again,” chirped a small voice with a snicker and it seemed to me that the room was filled with soft laughter.
Evidently thinking that something should be done to put the younger folks in their place, a proverb with a very stern voice spoke from a far corner. “Children should be seen and not heard,” he said and a demure little voice at once answered, “Out of the mouth of babes cometh wisdom.”
This was really growing interesting. I had not realized that there were so many wise proverbs and that they might fall out among themselves.
Now a couple of voices made themselves heard, evidently continuing a discussion.
“A rolling stone gathers no moss,” said a rather disagreeable voice and I caught a shadowy glimpse of a hoary old proverb with a long, gray beard.
“But a setting hen never grows fat,” retorted his companion in a sprightly tone.
“An honest man is the noblest work of God,” came a high, nasal voice with a self righteous undertone.
“Ah, yes! Honesty is the best policy, you know,” came the answer in a brisk business-like tone, just a little cutting.
“A fool and his money are soon parted,” said a thin, tight-lipped voice with a puckering quality, I felt sure would draw the purse strings tight.
“Oh, well, money is the root of all evil, why not be rid of it?” answered a jolly, rollicking voice with a hint of laughter in it.
But now there seemed to be danger of a really violent altercation for I heard the words “sowing wild oats,” spoken in a cold, sneering tone, while an angry voice retorted hotly, “There is no fool like an old fool,” and an admonitory voice added, “It is never too late to mend.” Ah! Grandmother’s old friend with a different meaning in the words.
Then at my very elbow spoken for my benefit alone, I heard again the words, “It is never too late to mend.” Again I had a glimpse of that neglected garment with the rent in it grown to unbelievable size. Must I? At this time of night! But a soft voice whispered in my ear, “Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof,” and with a smile at grandmother’
s friend, I drifted into dreamless sleep.
What Days in Which to Live!
September 20, 1918
The world is growing smaller each day. It has been shrinking for centuries, but during these later years it is diminishing in size with an ever increasing swiftness, yet so gradual is the change that we do not realize what is taking place unless we compare the present with the past.
It is only a few years ago that our neighbors were only those who lived within a few miles of us. Now we make an afternoon call on our neighbors 20 miles away with no greater effort.
The King and Queen of Belgium called on the English sovereigns not long ago. Their conveyance was an airplane and it took them only a short time to make the trip from Belgium to their destination in England.
Students of the future tell us that flying machines will come into general use after the war and perhaps we shall then drop in on our friends in England and France for afternoon tea just as casually as we used to happen in at our next door neighbor’s. We shall have friends in France and England by that time and those countries will never again seem far away. Even now, it is just “over there” and with so many persons passing back and forth, with millions of our common, every-day folks becoming intimately familiar with all the countries at war, the world will be much, much smaller when peace comes again.
It seems to me such a wonderful thing that the people of all the different nations of the earth are becoming so well acquainted. When people have fought and struggled and worked, gone hungry and eaten together they can never again be indifferent and distant toward one another. These people whom we have always carelessly bunched together in our minds as foreigners will be our friends and neighbors from this time on. Already we have shared our food with them; we have gone to their aid in danger and sickness, in misfortune and misery, as is and always has been the privilege of good neighbors the world over, and in doing this we are only returning the neighborly kindness of France shown to the United States in the war of Independence and that of England in protecting us from Germany during the war with Spain.6
As nations we have been neighbors for many years and now we are beginning to realize it as individuals. The people of the allied nations have learned that our sympathy is quick and our purse open to the needy and now they are finding out that our boys are good to fight beside.
As we who stay at home follow the operations on the various battle fronts, we have come to feel a personal interest in the heroic Belgian soldiers, holding the small corner of their country in spite of the worst the enemy could do; in the gallant French soldiers who set the bounds and said, “They shall not pass!” in the Italian soldiers who accomplished almost unbelievable feats fighting above the clouds, on snowclad mountain peaks, thousands of them having left security in the United States to take part in the terrific combat; and in the Russian soldiers, surely as brave as any, who went out against armed Germans and artillery with their bare hands when there were no arms and ammunition and yet who were so simple-souled and gentle-minded as to be overcome with fair words and false promises.7
Our admiration and sympathy has drawn us near to the soldiers of these different armies and to the people of their countries. We have been proud of their bravery and fortitude; we have rejoiced with them in their successes and sorrowed with them in their sufferings. This is what makes of people friends and neighbors. Never again can we be strangers.
If we can but broaden our vision to see world happenings as a whole, we cannot fail to be in accord with that young and eager person who exclaimed, “Glory! What days in which to live!”
Your Code of Honor
October 5, 1918
What is your personal code of honor? Just what do you consider dishonorable or disgraceful in personal conduct? It seems to me that we had all grown rather careless in holding ourselves to any code of honor and just a little ashamed of admitting that we had such a standard. At best our rules of life were becoming a little flexible and we had rather a contemptuous memory of the knights of King Arthur’s round table who fought so often for their honor and still at times forgot it so completely, while we pitied the Pilgrim Fathers for their stern inflexibility in what they considered the right way of life.
Just now, while such mighty forces of right and wrong are contending in the world, we are overhauling our mental processes a little and finding out some curious things about ourselves. We can all think of examples of different ideas of what is dishonorable. There are the persons who strictly fulfill their given word. To them it would be a disgrace not to do as they agree, not to keep a promise, while others give a promise easily and break their word with even greater ease.
Some persons have a high regard for truth and would feel themselves disgraced if they told a lie, while others prefer a lie even tho the truth were easier.
There are persons who have no scruples to prevent them from eavesdropping, reading letters not intended for them, or any manner of prying into other persons’ private affairs, and to others the doing of such things is in a manner horrifying.
There are scandal-mongers who are so eager to find and scatter to the four winds a bit of unsavory gossip that they are actually guilty in their own souls of the slips in virtue that they imagine in others, and contrasting with these are people so pureminded that they would think themselves disgraced if they entertained in their thoughts such idle gossip.
I know a woman whose standard of honor demands only, “the greatest good to the greatest number, including myself.” The difficulty with this is that a finite mind can scarcely know what is good for other persons or even one’s self.
Another woman’s code of honor is to be fair, to always give the “square deal” to the other person and this is very difficult to do because the judgment is so likely to be partial.
There is a peculiar thing about the people who hold all these differing ideas of what they will allow themselves to do. We seldom wish to live up to the high standard to which we hold the other fellow. The person who will not keep his word becomes very angry if a promise to him is broken. Those who have no regard for truth, in what they say, expect that others will be truthful when talking to them. People who pry into affairs which are none of their business consider the same actions disgraceful in others and gossips think that they should be exempt from the treatment they give to other people. I never knew it to fail and it is very amusing at times to listen to the condemnation of others’ actions by one who is even more guilty of the same thing.
It does one good to adhere strictly to a rule of conduct, if that rule is what it should be. Just the exercise of the will in refusing to follow the desires, which do not conform to the standard set, is strengthening to the character, while the determination to do the thing demanded by that standard and the doing of it however difficult, is an exercise for the strengthening of the will power which is far better than anything recommended for that purpose by books.
If you doubt that it pays in cash and other material advantages to have a high code of honor and live up to it, just notice the present plight of the German government. At the beginning of the war they threw away their honor, broke their pledged word and proclaimed to the world that their written agreements were mere scraps of paper. Now when they ask for a conference to discuss a “peace by agreement,” the allies reply, in effect, “but an agreement with you would in no sense be binding upon you. We cannot trust again to your word of honor since your signed pledge is a mere ‘scrap of paper’ and your verbal promises even less.”
It is plain, then, that nations are judged by their standards of honor and treated accordingly, and it is the same with individuals. We judge them by their code of honor and the way they live up to it. It is impossible to hold two standards, one for ourselves and a different one for others, for what is dishonorable in them would be the same for us and that seems in the end to be the only sure test, embracing and covering all the rest, the highest code of honor yet voiced—“Whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so
to them!”8
Early Training Counts Most
October 20, 1918
“Don’t open that door again, Tom! It lets in too much cold,” said Tom’s mother, with what I thought was an unnecessarily sharp note in her voice.
It was the first chilly day of early autumn and there was no fire in the house except in the kitchen stove. As I was making an afternoon visit we of course sat in the front room—and shivered. In a moment the outside door opened again and Tom and a gust of raw wind entered together.
“I told you not to open that door! If you do it again I’ll spank you good!” said Tom’s mother and Tom immediately turned around, opened the door and went out.
We talked on busily for another moment when, feeling more chilly than usual, I looked around and saw Tom standing in the open door, swinging it to and fro.
“Tom!” exclaimed his mother, “I told you not to open that door! Come here to me!” As the door swung shut, Tom turned and faced his mother, took a few steps toward her, raised himself on his tiptoes, with his hands behind him and—turned around, opened the door and walked out.
His mother screamed after him, “Tom! If you open that door again, I’ll skin you alive!”
“You know you wouldn’t do that and Tom knows it too,” I said. “Oh, of course,” she replied, “but I have to tell him something.”
I know Tom’s mother is trying to teach her boy to be truthful, but a few days ago he got into mischief and when asked who had done the damage he replied, “Sister did it.”
Tom was punished for telling a lie but I imagine it would be rather difficult to explain to him why it was all right to tell a falsehood about what would happen and all wrong to tell one about what had happened; why he should be punished and his mother not.
While I was busy with my work the other morning, a great commotion arose in the dooryard. There was shouting, the dog was barking furiously and there was the noise of running and trampling. I hurried to the door and found several boys in the yard darting here and there, shouting to each other, “Catch it! There it goes!”
Laura Ingalls Wilder, Farm Journalist Page 21
