The Girl and Her Religion Part 8

Some weeks ago I observed the work of an instructor attempting to make the connection through the study of the Bible. She knew that telling a girl to read her Bible is not helping or training her to do it. These girls had purchased ten and twenty cent Testaments which could be cut, and small loose-leaf note books, on the covers of which were pasted one of the pictures of Christ. The girls had spent two weeks clipping from the Testaments and pasting in their note books "the things Jesus said about himself and the words G.o.d spoke concerning Him." Two weeks more were spent clipping the "things others said about Him"--Peter, Paul, John, the Pharisees. The next work was to clip what Jesus said about forgiveness, about one's duty to neighbors, treatment of one's enemies, the way to be happy. Later they were to use both Old and New Testaments, cutting out the verses which they thought would be of comfort to any one in sorrow, to one who had greatly sinned, and verses which they considered good advice to young people. That instructor was making a sane, practical attempt to feed the souls of those girls by helping them search out for themselves what the Bible has to say on topics of real interest.

I saw a note book recently prepared by a fifteen-year-old girl which I believe most valuable because of the things about which it has lead her to think. She had taken as the subject of her book, "The Good Shepherd."

On the cover was a picture with that t.i.tle; in the inside a fine collection of pictures representing Jesus as the Good Shepherd, clippings regarding oriental shepherd life, "The Shepherd Psalm," the Parable of the Lost Sheep and the words of hymns like "The Ninety and Nine" and poems like "That Li'l Black Sheep."

One cannot soon forget that book with its decorated margins, its neat mounting of cards and clippings and its beautiful pictures. The effect of the book upon the girl who made it, the teachers said was very apparent. Another book was ent.i.tled "Come Unto Me," and the pictures, verses and hymns were most impressive. When each girl has exchanged books with each member of the cla.s.s, they are to be sent to a rescue home for girls.

The Bible messages to mankind brought by such simple methods into direct contact with a girl in her early teens is one means of nouris.h.i.+ng her soul. If it is true that the best in poetry, art, literature and oratory, as well as the greatest uplift to character, finds its source in that Book the girl should come into real touch with it that it may feed her expanding soul. It is this sort of first-hand, individual study while she is still a girl which will help her later to turn to the Book for encouragement, comfort and strength, and lead her to great thoughts and the attempting of great things because her own soul is inspired.

The majority of teachers, superintendents and leaders interested in religious instruction today were trained in Christian homes and taught as little children to pray. Attendance at church services of various kinds gave to them almost unconsciously a phraseology of prayer and impressed upon them the place of prayer in the Christian life. So familiar is the fact of prayer that they forget that the majority of pupils in the average Sunday-school of today are not familiar with the words of prayer at family wors.h.i.+p, are at best irregular in church attendance and that many are a.s.sociated with no society in the church where there is any training in prayer.

To such young people prayer has nothing to do with life. They say the Lord's Prayer at school perhaps, formally and hurriedly in the morning, they hear the prayer from the superintendent's desk on Sunday, or perchance remember the evening, "Now I lay me down to sleep," which is said in many homes not Christian, by the little child. But the prayer; which though only an echo of adult prayers, and only half understood, calms many a fear in a childish heart, helps to victory over sin many a struggling ten-year-old reared in a Christian home, is utterly foreign to the child who has none of these influences and who meets in the average Sunday-school not cultivation, but the abstract taken for granted type of instruction.

I have in my possession a most interesting set of papers written by girls in their early twenties regarding their memories of their own training in prayer and the result of it in their lives. I quote first from the papers of girls brought up in Christian homes.

"I can remember now the very wording of some of my father's prayers and those words found their way into my own--some of them are still there.

Often when a child, I prayed impulsively, using unconventional terms and saying 'you' instead of 'thou.' Before I was twelve mother often reminded me of my prayers when she said good night. As I grew older nothing was said to me about it. I was hot-tempered and continually 'getting mad' at other girls and teachers and almost every one. No one will ever know the remorse I suffered after one of those outbursts. At night I would pour out my soul in a plea for forgiveness. I was sure G.o.d forgave me and started next day with determination to conquer. I often prayed about examinations which were very hard for me. Once or twice I prayed that mother would see that I needed a different kind of dress from the one she planned. I am sure that I felt G.o.d was a sympathetic friend and prayer to me was natural."

Here was a girl who because of the cultivation in the home turned simply and naturally to G.o.d to supply her need. She is today a pure, healthy, natural young woman who has seemingly triumphed over her propensity to "get mad." Another girl says:

"I have prayed ever since I remember. We always had family prayers at home and in church our pastor always prayed for us children. I used to pray when I was afraid, which I often was at night when the wind blew, and I felt comforted. My little sister was not strong and for years I prayed every night that G.o.d would let us keep her. Sometimes when I had been scolded in school for whispering, in which I was a great offender, I prayed in shame and remorse for forgiveness. As I grew older I still prayed when afraid and repentant and often on a beautiful day, or in the canoe at sunset when I could not say all I felt. When I was about eighteen I began to pray for the missionaries and people who were poor and sick. I do not remember any definite instruction about prayer. It seemed natural to me. I often felt doubts when the answer didn't come but had a very definite feeling that the trouble must be with me."

This girl by environment and unconscious training has also found speaking with G.o.d a natural thing. There are so many papers which express through different personalities the same general facts which cannot fail to impress one who reads, with the power of the cultivation of prayer.

But in the papers and from the interviews of girls in the early twenties whose only definite relation with the church is the Sunday-school cla.s.s, who come from non-Christian homes, whose parents almost never enter a church a different note sounds.

One says:

"I am trying to be a Christian. I have not joined the church. I cannot say that I pray very regularly but I have tried to. It does not seem to help me much. The minister prayed for me the day my brother died and it helped. Sometimes I read in a book of prayers."

And another writes:

"I do not believe I ever was taught to say my prayers when a child. I do not remember ever praying except the Lord's Prayer. I am interested in our cla.s.s, the teacher makes the lessons interesting. I like to hear them discuss things. I always bow my head during prayer anywhere.

Sometimes I have thought I would pray for myself but I never have."

One of the most interesting papers is written by a young woman engaged in rescue work for girls, or has talked personally with a great many girls about prayer. She says:

"There was another girl with whom I talked one afternoon whose face I can see clearly now. She was suffering from great remorse because of her sin, for up to the time of her misfortune she had been 'a good girl.'

One of the workers suggested that she pray for strength and forgiveness.

'_Pray_,' she said bitterly. 'They told me that when I was a little girl and went to Sunday-school. _Pray_. How can I talk to G.o.d? What would he do for me? I tried last night when I couldn't sleep but _don't know what to say_!'"

There was no natural turning to a strong sympathetic Friend and Father on the part of these girls, or the twenty or more whose testimony I have been looking over. Those who were trying to be Christians made it a matter of duty to try to pray but it was irregular and forced; there was no natural spontaneity about it. It wasn't real to them, it played no vital part in life. In looking over the papers one is convinced of the tremendous a.s.set the girl has who from childhood has been trained to turn to the Source of Strength when in fear or trouble or need and when filled with the joy of living. A girl's life must be raised to a higher plane by daily contact with the Highest. If she sincerely speaks but for a moment to G.o.d, realizing his love, mercy, justice and righteousness, it will not be as easy for her to be jealous, unkind, untrue or a gossip. One covets for all girls this natural, spontaneous turning to G.o.d which has seemed to come to so many through the Christian home and its unconscious influence and instruction. Nothing can take the place of the earnest daily prayer of a manly father, and the instruction of a sweet, Christian mother. But the task which so many homes lays down the community must take up. The public school _cannot_ cultivate the spirit of prayer, and if the home does not, the church remains the only possible agent through which it may be done. The Sunday-school teacher is the church's most potent instrument, therefore a large share of the task is hers.

The teachers in the Beginners' departments realize the need of the cultivation of prayer and pray simply and often during the session, baby lips repeating the words. Through cards and memory verses prayers go into homes where none are ever made. In Primary departments the instruction is continued and children are led to express themselves in simple words of wors.h.i.+p. In the Junior departments there is the superintendent's prayer--the appeal it makes depending upon the leader's sympathy, and knowledge of childhood. Often both are lacking. These Junior girls know the street, the moving picture show, the unsupervised playground, the temptations of school life; they are beginning to show the moral effect of poverty on the one hand and social ambitions and false standards on the other. How many prayers for girls from ten to twelve does one hear? How many can he find though he search ever so diligently.

When we come to the girl in her teens we find often in large numbers of cla.s.ses that the only instruction in prayer is the indirect teaching from the prayer at the desk. How many girls listen reverently to it?

They come from stores and shops, from high schools, offices, homes of plenty and homes of want. They know temptation, they meet it in more dangerous forms than ever before. How does the prayer affect life as they know it? Very little I am bound to believe unless _the great experience_ has come to them and they have said in simple girlish fas.h.i.+on, "O Christ, I choose thee King of my life--I follow thee wherever the way shall lead," unless that transferring of _will_ from vague and indefinite desire to a definite purpose has come, the prayer which is a part of the average opening service will have little influence. Even if the great decision has been made, the prayer of one far away at the desk, often out of touch with young life, does not bring the uplift.

What a teacher may do the following testimony of a young girl may help us to see:

"I never had any special instruction in prayer at home. I think I must have said my prayers when a very little child. My parents are just fine but they do not go to church. They almost always spend Sundays with grandmother on the farm. I do not remember any instruction about prayer, though of course it was mentioned and I knew good people prayed, until I was seventeen when the finest teacher I ever had talked to us about it for four Sundays. Then I saw how much the people who had helped the world had prayed and how much it did for them. She made Christ seem so beautiful and sympathetic that though I can't explain it I wanted to pray myself. That afternoon out in the hammock I did. I shall never forget how wonderful the world seemed.... In a few weeks three of us joined the church and we prayed for the other girls. That year eight of us joined."

The testimony speaks for itself. She taught them what prayer had done for others; she made them want to pray. I do not know that teacher but I feel sure she knew by experience what she taught.

I know another teacher who is very successful in cultivating the spiritual life of every cla.s.s of girls as it comes to her. I find that each new cla.s.s has been asked to join with her at night in using wisely selected prayers written by Stevenson, Rauschenbusch, Phillips Brooks, and others taken from religious journals and from calendars. Each prayer is used daily for two weeks. After about six months the teacher asks that a committee be appointed to write a prayer for the cla.s.s, this committee being changed every two weeks.

Some of the prayers were very helpful and all had a crude, simple sincerity that was fine. I saw a letter written to this teacher by a seventeen-year-old girl away from home and out on a strike. It was a pathetic letter but one sentence cheered the teacher's heart--"The prayer that Midge and Kate wrote keeps coming to my mind and it helps me to keep a level head when we all git kinder wild."

When girls see that prayer is not beseeching an unwilling G.o.d for _things_ the desire for which may be born of pure selfishness, but is the way by which help to keep steady and strong, power to love one's fellows and to live courageously and well comes to many, it will make a difference in what they think about prayer and the way they pray. But most girls do not know these things intuitively. They must be helped to know them. The spirit within them must be cultivated. Prayer and seeking the Bible for courage and help are largely matters of cultivation. The great Teacher prayed Himself in such a wonderful way that the disciples listening cried--"Lord, teach us how to pray." And he answered their request, giving them _the words to say_ until they should find words for themselves. He made them _want_ to pray.

If the girl herself chances to read this chapter let her be a.s.sured that there is no lesson in all the world which she can learn which can give to her anything like the courage, strength, comfort and help to go right on in the face of hard things, that can come to her through learning how to truly pray, not empty words, not words for others to hear, but words that say all she feels of disappointment and longing, of hope and gladness. The Great G.o.d hears _all_ one can say and knows what she cannot say. Only G.o.d can do that. Even the best friends tire of our struggles and failures. G.o.d never does and when I speak to Him I may _know_ He cares. Though I am one speck of humanity in a great ma.s.s of men and women, though the girl who is reading this is just one ordinary girl, one among millions the world around, she may speak to G.o.d, her Creator without fear, may touch His _greatness_ and her heart be warmed by His answering touch.

"Speak to Him then, for He heareth, and spirit with spirit may meet.

Closer is He than breathing, And nearer than hands and feet."

XVI

A PLEA AND A PROMISE

The Plea is for a purer, more invigorating atmosphere for our girls to breathe--the Promise, that when it is given to them they will respond, their religious, as well as physical and mental life will be normal and the vitality in it will express itself in action.

Inspiration is a part of a girl's religion and inspiration means "inhaling--taking into the life that which creates high and lofty emotions."

Memory takes me back to school days when with windows wide open, shoulders squared and heads erect, the teacher's command bade us inhale and we filled our lungs to the full with fresh, life-giving air. Then came the command to exhale, and we emptied our lungs, that there might be room for more of the clear invigorating air. In life's larger school our girls of today are inhaling what? Is it the fresh, untainted, life-giving air?

The other day on the street I overheard a girl uttering words that made me turn in dismay to look at her. I saw, not what I expected to see, a coa.r.s.e, ill-clad, ignorant girl, but a pretty, fas.h.i.+onably dressed girl with high school books under her arm. Where had she breathed in the sentiments regarding honor which in slangy phrases she breathed out with no hesitation or shame? There was nothing high or lofty in the emotion enkindled by what she breathed into her soul from her environment, and what she had breathed out into her companion's ears could not fail to weaken and injure.

I found myself wondering what her environment could be and later when I described her, a girl companion told me her name. I remembered her then, one of the girls who had grown up quickly, the daughter of a skilled mechanic who made good wages and owned a comfortable home. She was an only child and her mother was socially ambitious for her. The mother had done nothing to interest her daughter in the church, only now and then did she attend Sunday-school; friends were entertained Sunday evening, so she had no connection with the young peoples' societies of the church. She is a type of a vast number of girls whose religious sense lies dormant.

Knowing now her environment, I asked myself, "Where can she 'breathe in that which will stir her soul to high and lofty emotion,' and enable her to help and bless her world?" At home? Can she there breathe in that which will enkindle n.o.ble ambition to love and serve in a world which so needs love and service?

Once there were numberless homes and, thank G.o.d, there are still many where a girl can breathe in deep draughts of the fresh, sweet, wholesome atmosphere in which the family lives. But knowing something of that mother, I knew she discussed with her daughter, dress and parties, her future at college, her music, her marks, and laid wisely and well her plans for the forming of friends.h.i.+ps which she considered "an advantage." In her presence she criticized friends and neighbors and related bits of gossip. Occasionally she scolded her for faults that happened at the moment to annoy. Her father talked boastfully of his successes and ambitions, criticized the men for whom he did business, found fault with those whom he employed, occasionally talked of politics in a vain attempt to interest his wife and daughter. There were few books in the home. The newspapers and one or more popular magazines represented the only reading of the family. The daughter played a little, sang a little, sewed a very little and studied as much as she must to insure the certificate for entrance to college. But she attended matinees, dancing parties in large numbers, and belonged to a whist club. A whist club, poor girl, at sixteen! Her parents were blind and deaf to the fact that in their daughter's life there was nothing, save now and then a desperate attempt on the part of an earnest high school teacher, or a word from a teacher who occasionally found her in the Sunday-school cla.s.s, which might inspire her soul with high ideals, pure, n.o.ble thoughts expressed in action which makes life sweeter. Of nature's beauties, of her countless miracles, of the dramatic acts of current history, of the lives and needs of other girls she knew almost nothing. In her pitiful little world she lived, her best self dying for want of pure air with the oxygen of power in it.

Can she find in the social life and amus.e.m.e.nts of the day the inspiration needed to fill her soul with life that it may develop as her normal healthy body develops? No, the girls of our country do not find our social life a help to the higher expression of self. Only here and there do wise parents make social life simple, free from show and sham, from false standards and appeals to the senses. But few know how to center the social life in the home, in the out-of-doors, in clean sports, instead of letting it center about exotic conditions, unreasonable hours, and deadly refreshments. Only now and then does the present social life demand any exercise of mental power.

It is wonderfully encouraging to find, here and there, groups of girls of sixteen and their boy friends having their simple good times in each other's homes, enjoying the picnic and the skating party; or the girls by themselves enjoying camp life, the tramp in the woods, the gymnasium cla.s.s; or with their parents or chaperones enjoying the moving pictures of high standard, without vaudeville. These girls are such a contrast to the usual groups of sophisticated, bored, blase girls who at eighteen have tired of the ordinary means of recreation and amus.e.m.e.nt. Our social life suffers from too rapid growth. It does not offer the tonic for healthy social nature. It needs pruning. Some of it needs to be torn up by the roots.

And what of the schools? Can she find there the atmosphere that will stir her soul to n.o.ble, unselfish joyous living? Yes, in some schools.

Many are engaged in merely continuing the "system," following a curriculum strangely deficient in those things which touch life directly, to inspire it and kindle it with ambition.

Recently, four names, the names of women, were presented to cla.s.ses of girls in the last year of the grammar grades and the four years of the high school. The girls were asked, "Did you ever hear of Frances Willard? What do you know about her?" Then followed the names of Mary Lyon, Clara Barton, Alice Freeman Palmer. The show of hands and the written replies were pitiful. Some had a vague idea that they had heard the name somewhere, a few gave one or two facts. Clara Barton seemed the one most familiar but knowledge concerning her was very limited.

Then Jane Addams' name was tried, the same meager replies resulting.

Finally the name of the wife of a noted and notorious insane criminal was given and scarcely a hand was down in answer to the first question, and pencils flew over the paper in answer to the second. What does it mean? It does not condemn the school, nor does it hold the school responsible but it does suggest that there might be some subst.i.tute characters for the mythical ones of ancient history, or that possibly the lives of great and n.o.ble women might be studied with greater profit by the girls of today than certain abstract problems in physics. In many of the cla.s.ses where the questions were asked that fresh, clear, vitalizing atmosphere charged with reality, seemed lacking.