Monday, December 4, 2006

Kicking Against the "Bricks"

I found this article the other day in the April, 1910 issue of the Mother’s Magazine. It was one of those “I just happened to open it to this page and it was exactly what I needed” moments.

“Kicking Against the ‘Bricks’” by May C. Ringwalt

“Mother,” questioned Dorothy, after the sermon, “what made Paul kick against the ‘bricks’? Didn’t he know that it was naughty?”
Dorothy’s prattle echoed through my thoughts long after the nursery days were over, when one Sunday afternoon, a little friend came to pour out her woes.
She had been forced to give up a cozy home to accept a clerkship in a dry goods store. I had not seen her for several months, and the change in her shocked me. Her girlish prettiness and vivacity were gone, her face was haggard, her bright eyes had a sullen expression, and the gentle tone of her voice had become sharp and irritable.
“My poor, dear child!” I cried, “is your work so hard?”
“Oh, it isn’t the work!” she retorted. “That is easy enough. But I hate it so! I’m kicking inside all the time!”

How is it with you, little mother, weary and worn? Have you tired yourself out honestly with good, hard work, or have you wasted strength and nerves kicking against the “bricks”?
For every life has a brick laid upon it: disappointed ambition, a lack of personal magnetism, a tongue-tied timidity, the want of executive ability in you who long to be a leader at your club, in the sewing-society, at the church entertainment; poverty-the grinding necessity of turning over a penny when your generous heart would spend lavishly, bestowing rich gifts upon friends, stretching out a helping hand to the needy everywhere; household drudgery-the scrubbing of a kitchen floor, the washing of dishes, pots and pans, when you have an artistic temperament, musical tastes, a soul for the beautiful.
Again Dorothy flashes in to mind. And as I picture the little one with the golden curls and mischievous baby face, her cunning red dress “grown shorter” since the before, I hear myself sigh:
“If mother doesn’t want to lose her little girl, she’ll have to put a brick on her head!”Perhaps thus, little mother, God has laid his brick upon you-to prevent you from growing up to arrogance, selfishness and sin; to keep you a little child in faith and loving dependence-the little child who alone can inherit the kingdom of heaven.

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