When we talk of housework schedules, we do so with the typical American admiration of efficiency. We concede the logic of a schedule, we admit the value of orderly systems. Some of us get a thrill out of following a schedule, but some of us, admiring the theогу, still strain against the leashes. Most of us have felt the craving to do something not on the plan. It is like the incident in the following letter, where a bride wept because she had to do dishes when she wanted to see the pond lilies while the dew was still on them. She solved her problem the next day by abandoning the dishes and going to the lilies while they were still fresh with morning dew. "I've always been glad I did," she says. "I shall never forget the picture and I've entirely forgotten the pattern on the cups and saucers."
The incident is symbolic of much that happens in all of our lives. In the pressure of the need for making a living or caring for a family, too often we repress the longing to enjoy the pond lilies. We force ourselves to stay with the cups and saucers, thinking that later will be time enough for the coveted pleasure. But sometimes, when we wait too long, the dew is gone and we miss the fine spiritual savor that might have uplifted us and eased our burdens along the way.
Could Not Sleep
One hot summer night when Margie Ruth was about three, she was restless and uncomfortable in her little bed. Instead of falling asleep at the scheduled time, she tossed and turned, asked for a drink, finally whimpered, "Mother, can't I get up a little while?" Now, I had determined to raise my baby according to the best of rules, and I knew that regularity was one of the cardinal virtues; but some way that night the impulse to break over the rule came to me, and I lifted the child and carried her out with me into the big, dark yard, where the lightest of breezes touched us softly, and the mildest of sweet odors soothed us, and the faint country night noises murmured around us. The velvety, star-sprinkled sky spread far and cool above us; and the spirit of rest brooded over us. Margie Ruth drew a deep, breath of wonder at the magnificence and strangeness of night. She seemed to feel, as I did, a strange expanding or communion of the spirit. She clasped her little hand in mine, and with a contented sigh she cuddled against me and in a few minutes her soft, even breathing showed she was asleep.
Had More Confidence
Some way, I have always felt that the sympathy between us was greater and her confidence in me was firmer because I took her out into that beautiful, restful night, instead of insisting on the letter of the law. Discipline is a valuable, an indispensable thing, but some things are bigger and more important than discipline. Every one ought sometimes -- not too often —- to abandon the duty of the moment and take time to look at the spiritual pond lilies of life before the dew is off. And there is no denying that a consistent schedule will keep a person in shape to seize the opportunities for these beautiful, immaterial things whenever they come up.