Sunbonnet Soliloquy by Jewell Ellen Smith

The Hedgehopper, March 1982

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Once somebody asked Benjamin Franklin what kind of man deserves the most pity. Franklin replied: "A lonesome man on a rainy day who does not know how to read."

Not long ago, on a rainy Sunday, I read an unusual, short and true story about a Greek mother and her child. Though it was set down in stilted terms in a volume printed in the 1800's, the story has in it an idea worth any mother's time, especially a young mother.

The writer didn't describe the Greek mother's appearance or intelligence or training. The child was a toddler, or perhaps older. He was old enough to think it fun to walk backwards.

Whether it was a boy or girl the writer didn't say. Whether the time was summer or winter, the writer didn't make clear. Evidently it was summer, or spring, because flowers are mentioned. The writer did suggest, in a round about way the scene of the event was a high hill or mountain, for there was a cliff involved.

What happened to the Greek mother and her child the writer told this way: "Her young child had wandered astray in search of flowers and had come to the brink of a cliff, towards which he was heedlessly stepping backwards.

"So near was it, that to have called would have been to startle the child and send it tumbling headlong down. The mother did better. She said not a word, but, spreading out her lap, smiled and beckoned to the child, who, immediately with a light laugh ran out of the arms of death towards her."

She "spread out her lap...."

If someone were to ask you what kind of child deserves the most pity, wouldn't you say it is the one whose mother does not know how to spread out her lap! Or, perhaps one whose mother does not take time to read to him on a rainy day.

It's a good idea for the mother of little children to wear great big aprons, and to keep story books on hand.

The apron can be used to dry tears, to brush off skinned knees, and to wrap around shivering shoulders. On a hot or rainy day it makes a good miniature umbrella — even a tent. There is no end to the uses of a generous sized, soft, gathered apron.

Years ago there was a popular song that had lines in it about apron strings. The verses elude me now only snatches of the lines come back. The song said something like: "O tie me to your apron strings again… Bring back those happy hours when… I know there's room for me upon your knee.”

Children need much love and tenderness shown to them. The little ones delight in being held in mother's lap in being rocked in a rocking chair, and in being sung to. They seem to thrive on affection expressed in bear hugs and kisses.

And story books? In them are lessons and fun and tales to make sleepy eyes close.

Then there's this to remember: What you read to a child, what you sing to him, and what you tell him as he leans on your knee, he will never forget. Your words will come back to him as cooling water when he reaches the scorching years.

So, be wise. Make room on your knee. Make time for your children. Read. Sing. Be like the Greek mother. Don't panic when you see your little child, or big child, or teenager, near a cliff. Spread out your lap, smile, and beckon him to come to you.

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