When reading the account of an interview between Mrs. Eddy and a representative of the press, a sense of keen rebuke came to me in the following words of our Leader to this gentleman: "I would ask you to sit down, but this is my time for work. It is a work of eternity. The hours do not give me time enough." I thought, with regret, of the many interruptions which I allowed to break in upon my time for work, and of the difference between the number of my hours of labor and hers, and there came to me the memory of the days of my childhood, when my mother rose at four or five o'clock in the morning and labored for a large family of children until late at night, often finishing a garment or a little stocking at two o'clock in the morning. And how thoughtless we children were, taking it as a matter of course that mother should work all of the time; satisfied if we worked a little each day, and feeling injured if we were not allowed the most of the time for play.

Following this memory came another and later one,—the time of awakening, when I suddenly saw that her life was a continual sacrifice for her children. She had been giving uncomplainingly the riches of a mother's changeless love in a selfless labor for us, and receiving little appreciation on our part; but her love had remained the same, and I saw that the depth and purity of her affection had sustained her strength beyond what would have been possible under other circumstances. Then I thought of all I might have done to make her work lighter and her smile brighter! After that, whenever at home, I always wanted to work as long as mother did, and one of the most comforting recollections I have is her deep enjoyment of my affectionate helpfulness and her evident sense of having come into a great reward.

January 30, 1909

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