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Show gratitude by helping them with homework and inviting their friends to stay. And then at the age of 87 she had a child! A girl. I am sorry to say that my mother - did not greatly value daughters, havbeen one herself, "Girl babies ing are quite useful' to practice on as her mother had told her. Boys were all that really counted in God's eyes. Could she hope for another child? She could. But it was another girl-- to' ' practice on! ; And then the most wonderful thing possible happened to her; she had a boy. Which incidentally was the most wonderful thing that ever happened to me ! I unashamedly adore life. Nor was this the end of her triumphs. She seemed to get younger and younger, happier and happier, and bore my father two more sons, the last when she wa 49. And no more daughters, since practice had by now made her perfect As we grew older, she allowed us more liberty, though continuing as religious as ever and pleading with us to take no risks in "I do not like broken children any more than you like broken toys." One day, looking at us in pure joy, she ' said, Ton can't think how fortunate I feel, my darling-childrThere was a man once, a Frenchman, who died of grief because he could never become a mother." W had family prayers every morning, and, as a rule, went to church twice every Sunday, which was the day when we were forbidden to play cards or other games of chance. I remember persuading her to let us play charades on Sunday evenings provided that the scenes were wholly Biblical. None of us drank or smoked or Bad friends of the opposite sex until we were grown up. Yet, somehow, we never felt deprived. I remember my mother buying herself a present only oncerThat was when I was about 12 and she showed me an antique shop where I could spend some birthday money on coins 1 for my collection. There she found a gold Irish "Tara" brooch, which she bought "to please your father." It was a bargain at only a trifle more than its intrinsic value in metal, and she wore it constantly. In thost years only royalty or actresses "made up their faces." My mother actually spoiled her complexion by constant washing with carbolic soap, JShe. also lacked any sense of humor except the simplest and most innocuous kind; but this is no criticism of her. True humor is based on multiple meanings and on a recognition that often only a hairsbreadth of truth separates complete opposite. To her, white-w- as white, black was black, and ev - rock-climbin- en. - g. ter from ery word, except parables and metaphors, must be taken literallyhe did not understand irony,, sarcasm, or jokes about other people. .. She was,r however, a heroine : in J times of emergency. Our most splendid recollection was when we were very young, in, the days before domestic electric light At supper one evening, the kerosene table lamp suddenly flared up. The screw that Worked the wick had failed and a black pillar of smoke soon arose. My father and brothers watched Aghast but my mother rose and said Susan: simply to my ''Susan, open that door if you please, t and then the door into the drawing room, and then the drawing-roodoor into the garden. Make haste 1" She took up the flaming lamp, protecting her hands with a table napkin, and followed Susan through the hall, through the drawing room, and into the garden, where she set it down. Seconds later it exploded. Soon after my 19th birthday, the "First World War brokeutThe news dismayed my mother, and she could not at first believe "My people must have gone mad," she cried. Within a few months, I found myself a young officer in trenches that faced Bavarian troops. Were my uncles and cousins among them? This fratricidal situation was so horrible -- that ' for awhilelmy motherJtroke: down and lost her faith in God. How could He allow her to suffer so 7 A year later, her punishment was a let-- " half-sist- my colonel, after our battal-io- n had lost more than of 7 its strength at High Wood,- to the effect .that-- had puhtfverygal-- : lantly but had died of wounds. So she) opened her heart to God with the Biblical : "The Lord hath given, the Lord hath taken, away. Blessed be the name of the Lord." And the next thing was a letter from a hospital in France. I had been left for dead and escaped burial only because everyone was too busy fighting or looking after the wounded to spare the time. My mother's faith returned, and after another speU in the trenches, "I got pneumonia, was forbidden further active service, married, and had - a child- - "a daughter to practice on'L as she told my. wife. r When my father died, my mother became the most respected woman at Harlech, the North Welsh village where we lived, with nobody to obey except God: meaning her noble At the age of 83 she was found to have cancer, but since at that age it is seldom fatal, she continued unperturbed to practice her good works, which were many. What lessons I learned from my mother can be told in very few words. She taught me to despise fame and riches, not to be deceived by appearances, to tell the truth on all possible occasions I regret having taken her too literally at times and to keep my head in time of danger. I have inherited her conscience, her disinterest in sartorial fashions, two-thir- - 1 . er m eon-scien- ce. it Our kerosene table lamp flared up. ; My father and aU the children watched aghast as Mother calmly carried it out. her joy in making marmalades and jams, and her frugality (I hate throwing away crusts), though it often v vvuiiiv i0 w a tu - aruaM jvs agance learned from my. father, I have hot inherited her dogma, which was the cause of her sadly cutting me from her will wnen my wife and I separated. She remembered the children instead, and eventually welcomed my remarriage. One word of wisdom, which she whispered to me when I was seven years old. has always stuck in my mind, and I pass it on to my children and grandchildrenby the way I became a last year. "Robert," she said, "this UTgreat secret never forget itt Work is far more interesting than play." Hence my obsession with work, which is also my play. After her death, I was sent that gold Tara brooch, which arrived in the mail with its pin missing. I took it to a jeweler to have a pin fitted, out ne assured me tnat a gold one would be unnecessary, since the brooch was not gold but pinchbeck. That surprised me. My mother had always jworn it for gold, we had always accepted it as gold, and so gold it had remained until her death. It would have distressed her to know that she had not merely been cheated 1 3 i J " " fraud on the public Or would she have taken this as an instance of God's just punishment for indulging female vanity? ca - great-grandpare- nt - l- it. 1 X . 1 " - fSN IfcA aw . - " " Mlllf III - . I llll rill 1 W Mlllf II T III . IM. ,lVII -f- "N. t W rjfed fej tk i a... L V -- , ,, Family Welcly,Sptembrti,1967 |
