vol 5 paraphrase pg 77
It's strange how a moral fault in her child gives a mother as much distress as a physical illness. I wonder if that's how God feels when He sees us doing the very thing we hate to do year after year? I think that the experience of motherhood makes it possible to understand a lot of things about God's dealings with us that aren't plain without that experience. For instance, I can more completely believe in the forgiveness of sin when I think about my poor little Hannah's ugly fault. Even though her fault comes up almost every day, what else can I do but forgive?
But forgiveness that does nothing to heal the fault is like the useless ointments that the poor have to use on their wounds because they can't afford anything better. There's one thing I know I should have done better: I've hardly even mentioned our little girl's weakness to John even though it's bothered me for almost a year. But I think he suspects that there's something wrong anyway. We're just never able to talk freely about our shy, pretty Hannah. And maybe that's one of the reasons. She's such a timid, nervous little thing, and she looks so charming when her long eyelashes droop, her sweet little mouth quivers, and her soft cheeks flush--that we're hesitant about exposing,
vol 5 paraphrase pg 78
even to each other, the faults we see in our delicate, fragile little girl. Maybe neither of us quite trusts the other to be cautious with Hannah and deal gently with her.
But the way things are just can't go on. It's a miserable thing to say, but I can't believe a word she says! And it's getting worse. It's used to be only once in a while that Hannah would be caught lying, but now there's so much doubt about everything that comes out of her mouth, that my life has lost its joy, and my husband is concerned about how pale I look.
For example, here are some incidents that I've noticed just in the past couple of days:
'Hannah, did you remember to give my message to the cook?'
'Yes, Mama.'
'And what did she say?'
'She said she couldn't make any jam today because the fruit hasn't come yet.'
I went into the kitchen a little later and found the cook stirring something in a large brass pot, and, I hate to admit it, but I didn't even bother to ask her if she was making jam. It was the kind of circumstantial response of Hannah's that was most often untrue. Did she lie because she was afraid to confess that she'd forgotten to ask the cook? That seemed unlikely. Knowing how sensitive she is, we've always been careful not to punish any of her little wrongs when she owns up to them. Besides, even fear of punishment could hardly make her create such a logical response from the cook. Here's another example:
'Did you see the Fleming children?'
'Yes, Mama--and Benjie was so rude! He pushed Deirdre off the sidewalk!'
vol 5 paraphrase pg 79
The nanny, who was sitting by the fireplace with the baby, raised her eyebrows in surprise, and I could tell that the whole episode was a fabrication. Here's an even more extraordinary example:
'Mama, when we were at the park, we saw Miss Butler by the fountain! She kissed me and asked me how my mother was.' She offered this out of the blue, in the most casual, easy way. Well, I ran into Miss Butler just this morning and remarked how kind it was of her to inquire about me through my little girl, and asked, 'Hasn't Hannah grown?'
Miss Butler looked confused. She loves Hannah, probably because she's so lovely. As her parents, we can hardly be oblivious to her beauty.
'I haven't seen Hannah for over a month! But I'd love to visit soon, and satisfy your heart with all the compliments that my sweet little Hannah deserves!'
Little did she know that it was shame, not pride, that made me blush. But I couldn't share my Hannah's tragic secret--not even to such a close friend.
But talking about it with John was a different matter. He needed to know. All of these months I'd been wondering vaguely why my child had this lack of truthfulness, and where it had come from. Yet I had no answers. But a new development in the type of lies Hannah was telling finally made me broach the subject with John. The fact is, this was the only subject we didn't discuss with each other.
'Mama, Drew was so naughty this morning during lessons. He went right up to Miss Clare while she was writing and bumped her elbow on purpose. He made her spill her tea all over the tablecloth.'
vol 5 paraphrase pg 80
I happened to see Miss Clare upstairs and mentioned that I heard how aggravating Drew had been that morning.
'Aggravating? No, not at all. In fact, he was very busy and obedient.'
I didn't say anything about the spilled tea, but went straight to the room where the children do their school lessons. The table was neat, as Miss Clare always leaves it. There was so sign of a tea stain. What could have been her motivation? This chronic and imaginative deceit was like an obsession. I sat in dismay for an hour or more, not thinking, but stunned by a new concept: perhaps the child was mentally unbalanced and not responsible for her words. But how could that be? She was happier than any of the children when they played, and so intelligent at her lessons. I decided to talk it over with her father that very day.
'Oh, John, I'm so miserable about Hannah. Do you realize that she fabricates tales constantly?
'Let's be accurate--they're lies, not fabrications. An ugly sin deserves an ugly name. What kind of lies is she telling? Do you know what's tempting her to lie?'
Hmmm. John didn't seem at all surprised. Maybe he knew more about this than I had supposed.
'That's just it, John. Her fabr-- I mean, her lies are so uncalled for, so unreasonable, that I don't know how I can ever trust her.'
'Unreasonable? Do you mean that her lies don't hang together? That's pretty common with liars. You remember the saying--'Liars had better have excellent memories.'
'Don't call our darling daughter a liar, John. I think she's more to be pitied than blamed. What I mean is that I can't find any rhyme or reason for her lies.' And I told my husband some examples just like the ones I've written about here.
'That's strange! There's a hint of mean-spiritedness in
vol 5 paraphrase pg 81
the tale about Drew and the spilled tea, a hint of fear of punishment in the one about the jam, but as far as the rest--they're fanciful fabrications pure and simple. They have neither rhyme nor reason, just like you said.'
'I don't think there's any mean-spiritedness in her lies. I was going to reprimand her for making up that story about Drew, but you know how she adores her brother, and she told her tale with the most innocent face. I'm convinced that she had no intention of hurting him.'
'Are you just as convinced that she never lies to cover a wrong-doing out of cowardice?'
'No, I'm not so sure about that. I've caught her more than once in an ingenious lie to cover something up. You know how anxious and sensitive she is. Just the other day, I found a blue teacup from out of the cabinet, missing its handle, and hidden behind the woodwork. Hannah happened to come in right then, so I asked her if she knew who had broken it.
'I don't know for sure, Mama, but I think it was Mary. She was dusting the cabinet, and I'm almost sure I heard a crash.'
'But she couldn't look me in the eye, and there was a sort of wincing, as if she was afraid.'
'Do you generally notice the fear symptoms when she lies?
'As a rule, poor Hannah's fabrications are expressed in a quiet, easy way, with all of the boldness of innocent sincerity. Even when she's found out and confronted with her tale, she looks bewildered, not guilty.'
'I wish you'd stop tiptoeing around the issue by using soft phrases that make sin sound less serious. Call a spade a spade. A 'tale' is something fun to laugh about. A 'fabrication' is something amusing. But a lie? Why, the very soul that can endure that name
vol 5 paraphrase pg 82
is far removed from righteousness, even when it admits that it lied.'
'But that's just it. I can't bear to label our child's weakness with such an ugly, dark name. You know, I'm starting to suspect that poor little Hannah isn't even aware that she's doing it--she has no idea that she's departed from fact. Sometimes I get a terrible sense of dread that her problem is mental, not moral. I sometimes think that she doesn't have the clear perception of truth and falsehood that most of us are blessed with.'
'Wow!' was what John said, but his surprise was put-on. Now I realized that he'd known what was going on all along and hadn't said anything because he didn't know what to say. In his heart, he agreed with me about our lovely little girl. Hannah's defect was the result of a handicapped mind and it only showed up in this area. How could we have the heart to look forward to the future? Now I understood why poor John was so anxious to call the offense by its blackest name. He was hoping to avoid having to suspect mental illness, which is worse than an outright sin because it has less chance of being cured. We looked at each other blankly. He tried to lighten the air with a casual attitude, but it wasn't working.
I forgot to mention that my sister Emma was staying with us at the time and was listening to my discussion with John. She's the 'smart woman' of the family. She was researching all kinds of things, we assumed she wanted to succeed at the top of her profession as a doctor. She never commented during our talk, which irritated me, since I was dying to know her opinion. But now, while we were trying not to show how discouraged we were, she started laughing, which seemed a little callous of her.
'You silly parents! You're too kindhearted and
vol 5 paraphrase pg 83
serious--and definitely ridiculous! Why in the world are you staring at each other, imagining all kinds of terrible scenarios? Why not simply accept the problem for what it is, and let current science help you find a solution for Hannah's problem? Poor little thing. It would be understandable if she begged to be saved from her parents!'
'Then you don't think she has any mental deficiency?' we cried out breathlessly, already feeling as if a burden had been lifted from us so that we could straighten up and walk freely.
'Mental deficiency? How absurd! But that's where I think parents are all alike. Every parent thinks that his case is entirely new, and his child is the first of that kind that has ever been born into the world. But anyone with any scientific training at all could see at once that Hannah's lies--I'd prefer to use the word inventions rather than John's ugly word--are a symptom of something else. Annie, you were right in thinking that they're symptoms involving the brain, but mental illness? Definitely not! Silly parents, can't you recognize that you're 'entertaining angels unaware' with Hannah? Her 'problem' of lying is the very quality that makes great poets!'
'Poets and angels are fine in the right situation,' said John a little tersely, 'but I want my child to speak the truth. As a simple, ignorant parent, when my daughter says something as if it's a fact, I'd like to have confidence that it is a fact.'
'Yes, and that's your task as parents. Teach her what's true in the same way that you'd teach her French or math--a little today, a little tomorrow, so that she has a lesson every day. Her poetic gift will only be effective if she learns the nature of truth. Here's a
vol 5 paraphrase pg 84
question--what's your concept of truth? Is it something we're born with, or something we learn with education?'
'I'm not so sure I want to be an experiment, held up to the world as an example of blundering parental idiots,' I said. 'Maybe we'd better keep our crude, unenlightened notions to ourselves.' I spoke rather snappishly, I admit. I was more concerned for John than for myself about being held up as an example of ridicule in his own home--and by my own sister!
'Oh, dear, now I've annoyed both of you. I'm terrible. And yet, as I observe you with your children, I don't even feel worthy to tie your sandals. I must have thought to myself a thousand times a day, Even with everything science can teach us, the insight and love that parents receive from God is worth much more than that.'
'No, Emma, we're the ones who should apologize for being jealous of science--which is what we were--and we were too quick to take offense. Don't be upset. Please let Annie and me have the benefit of your advice. We really are clueless about what to do for Hannah.'
'Well, I think you were right when you wondered if her fault had two sources--fear of punishment is the first one. She does something wrong but won't admit it. Why not?'
'Yes, that's what I don't understand. Why is she afraid to tell the truth? We've never punished her, or even given her a cold look for anything except this one fault of lying. She's so timid that we've been afraid that harsh measures might make it even harder for her to confess the truth.'
'I think you're right about that. And now we've pin-pointed one reason for the lies: sheer fear, which is a moral weakness. It seems to have no basis, but it's
vol 5 paraphrase pg 85
there nevertheless. And, to be honest, I'm not so sure that it has no basis. Good behavior, gentleness, obedience and that kind of thing are important to her. This lack of truth-telling seems to be her only vice. For such a timid girl, don't you think that the dread of her parents giving her a cold, disapproving look might be a great temptation to lie?'
'I suppose so, but what are we supposed to do? Should we just overlook her faults and not say anything to her that might help her?'
'Unfortunately, you'll have to be firm in that area. It's the kindest way in the long run. Show little Hannah that you love her. Let her know that you can forgive any fault in her, but that the fault that hurts you the most is when you don't hear the entire truth.'
'I see. So, if, for example, she breaks a valuable vase and conceals it, I'm supposed to discover her secret rather than what I've been doing--let it stay secret to avoid cornering her into a direct lie. I should show her the vase and admit that I know she hid it.'
'No, because her immediate response will be to deny it. No, make sure you have the facts and are positive it was her, and then show her the pieces. Let her know that the vase was valuable, but that's not what upsets you. The thing that hurts you even more than that is that she couldn't trust her mother and admit what she had done. Even now I can imagine the touching scene that will follow, one of those mother/child moments that are too intimate and precious for outsiders to see.'
Tears came to my eyes, because I could imagine the scene, too. Now I understood that the way to draw my child closer to me was to always be forgiving, always understanding and loving her, and always opposing any falsehood or deception that might come between us. I was lost in my lovely thoughts, picturing how someday I might
vol 5 paraphrase pg 86
be able to show her that her mother's quick desire to forgive her was only a faint image of the 'all-forgiving gentleness of God,' when John interrupted my thoughts.
'I understand that if we both make it a point to freely and generously forgive every one of her little mistakes on the condition that she admits them, we might cure her of the lying she does out of fear of being punished. But the problem is, I don't think she recognizes the difference between truth and fiction anymore. She'll continue to fabricate purely inventive things that happened, and the lies will continue. She still won't be able to be trusted.'
''Purely inventive'--that's just it. Don't you see? Hannah is full of creative imagination. She imagines all kinds of scenes that evolve in her mind. All the different things that might have happened seem so real to her that she's bewildered and hardly able to distinguish which event actually happened, and which came from her imagination. It's useless to agonize over this as a moral fault. It's not a lack of morals, it's a lack of mental balance. Her mind is fine, but her creative energy runs away with her. She imagines what might have happened more clearly than what actually happened. I'll bet she loves fairy tales, doesn't she?'
'Well, to be honest, I assumed they'd only encourage her fabrications, so I've pretty much limited her to purely factual books.'
'I suspect that's a mistake. An assertive imagination like Hannah's needs its proper nourishment. Let her have her daily rations. She should hear 'The Babes in the Wood,' 'The Little Match-Girl,' 'The Snow-Maiden,' stories and legends that are loosely based on historic fact, and, most important of all, stories from the Bible. She should have whatever she can replay in her mind over and over, but not unimaginative twaddle about children just like her doing the kinds of things she does,
vol 5 paraphrase pg 87
whether they're funny or serious. She needs exposure to the larger world beyond her routine life where anything is possible and beautiful things are always happening. If you give her this kind of mental food that she needs so much, then her mind will be so full of mental images that she won't be tempted to make up exciting versions of what happens in her routine, everyday life.'
My husband laughed. 'My dear Emma, maybe you'd better let us do the best we can to fix the problem; your idea is too wild! Your way would only encourage her! 'Behold, here comes that dreamer!' Imagine sending my daughter into the world labelled as a dreamer!'
'That's an inaccurate quote for this situation. I haven't finished. I truly believe that starving Hannah's imagination will do some damage to her. But, at the same time, you're right about the need to diligently cultivate accurate knowledge and a love for truth. What is truth but plain, simple fact as it actually exists? I believe that Hannah's fabrications are the result of her lack of being able to perceive fact because her mind is so preoccupied.'
'Well, then, what should we do?'
'Well, every day, as much as half a dozen times every day, give her 'truth lessons.' Send her to the window and say, 'Look outside, Hannah, and tell me what you see.' She'll come back, say that she saw a cow when there's really a horse out there, and you send her back to do it again the right way. She does it again and this time, she brings back the correct report. This teaches her that it's not true to say what isn't there. You might ask her to give a long message to your cook, and instruct the cook to write down exactly what Hannah actually relays. If she did well, then Hannah gets a kiss for telling the truth. Gradually, she'll come to honor truth, and she'll learn to tell the difference between facts that contain truth in every part, and fanciful creations of make-believe where anything goes.'
vol 5 paraphrase pg 88
'You know, Emma, I think you're right! Most of Hannah's lies are told with such innocence that I wouldn't be surprised if they really do come from the world of make-believe. At any rate, let's try Emma's suggestions, okay, John?'
'Okay, we'll try them, and we'll be diligent to follow them carefully. It sounds reasonable, especially since there doesn't seem to be a trace of mean-spiritedness in Hannah's lies.'
'Believe me, if there were, the treatment would be more complicated. First you'd have to deal with the mean-spiritedness, and then you'd have to teach her to love truth with little daily lessons. That's the mistake that so many people make. They assume that child are born understanding and loving truth by nature, but they aren't. The best parents need to be on guard to hinder any opportunities for their child to make a false statement.'
'We're so grateful! Do you know what we owe you? Let me tell you about a tragic example that we see all the time, the one that's made me dread Hannah's possible future all the more. It's no great secret, but I don't think you should repeat it publicly. You know Mrs. Casterton, who lives next door? I hate to say it, but not a word she says can be trusted! She might say that such-and-such has a serious type of scarlet fever, and even while she's talking about it, you know it's not true. Her husband, children, servants, neighbors all know it, and she's developed that simpering kind of mannerism that women get when they lose the respect of others, and their own self-respect. You've saved Hannah from growing up to be just like her!'
'Poor woman! And to think that this shameful condition might have been prevented if her parents had understood their obligation.'