It all depends upon the point of view! Most every one feels that his own life is narrow and restricted, while his neighbor across the way has extra advantages, joy or leisure. The trouble is that we are like the early feminists who shouted, "Equal rights for women!" when they want all men's rights added to all the privileges of woman. We each want to keep the happy phases of our lives, eliminate the unpleasantness, and get the other fellows pleasures, too. The other day I had a visit from a friend with whom I had struck up one of those immortal college fellowships through being "in activities" together. That is the beauty of college; one finds such an assortment of friends! Many an hour in undergraduate days Tray and I spent discussing the problems of the world; more cynical and more intensely serious than we ever will be again! The night before May Day, when the campus waited in quivering anxiety to see whose names would grace the honor scroll on the senior bench, was a night more pregnant with emotion, more exhilarating and terrifying that if we had been waiting for the ultimatum from Serbia. Everything in which we were interested seemed momentous then; life was full of crises.
Whenever Tray runs out for a weekend visit it brings back those glamours days. And, besides, she leads a thrilling life now, so different from mine that it seems like a fairyland. She runs the household for her well-to-do father (by superintending the servants); she has a job in that most fascinating of professions, advertising (except when some emergency, like a trip to Europe or California, causes her to resign from it), and altogether leads such a blithesome life, meeting stimulating people, reading delightful books, seeing the latest plays, that I quite envy her. She is forever running across old college friends when they happen into the city, entertaining and being entertained by them. She always has the latest news of everyone; she knows who is successful and who is down on his luck, who has written a book, sho is making a name for himself in some unique way.
Just Radiant
Well on this latest visit, Tray was just as radiant and entertaining as ever. We chattered away for hours, and after the supper dishes were done and the children tucked away and daddy gone out for a meeting, we have a late seance before the fire, alone. There is something moody and melancholy about the unsteady flickering of an open fire at night, when there is no other light, and before long great gaps appeared in the conversation, and I was feeling sad and wistful.
"Whatever became of Marj?" "Oh, she is doing wonderful work in Denver. She was in the city last summer and the Theta Sigs gave a beach party for her." (She sees everyone sooner or later! It is as though I am caught in a stagnant little backwater, where I see the same folks day in and day out, going round and round in our little eddy, while she is in the midst of the turmoil where all the rivers come down to the sea!)
"I ran out to Woodsy Cove to see Susan one week-end, where she is running her quaint little tearoom!" (Imagine me dashing in on some one for a week-end, with my little brood! It would be like the charge of the light brigade! I would be as welcome as the German army trampling Belgium.)
A "Darling Dinner"
"We had the darlingest dinner party when Martha and her brand-new husband came to town. Mary is such a jewel of a cook, too; she never minds how many guests we have!" (My cook is a jewel, too; I never have to issue an order to her! When I want a dinner served, I merely decide what is needed, and do it. If I wanted to give a dinner party, when on earth would I feed the hired man? And where would I park the children?)
I was rapidly falling into that early Christian martyr mood in which a person can feel so noble over nothing. The sort of feeling a woman has who "enjoys poor health."
The talk petered out altogether. There was a long, long pause. A sigh or two from each of us. I thought of all the gayeties and frivolities which might adorn a life which did not adorn ours. I thought of pathetic bits of petty, such as "the short and simple annals of the poor." How piteous!
And Then--!
And then, out of a clear sky, came this astounding remark from Tray, with the wistfulest tone:
"You life is just ideal, isn't it?"
I was absolutely bowled over. My amazement must have been evident for she added in explanation: "Your life is so real and so orderly. You have a home and a husband and babies; there seems to be some purpose in what you do. And it makes you seem so safe, so sheltered, so serene. You don't know how I envy you!"
Do you know--I've stood a little straighter, breathed a little deeper, felt a little prouder ever since!
The Mother
I planned to go to England in the spring,
When hedgerows bloom and all the hills are free;
I longed to travel over all the world,
Nor leave a single beauty-spot unseen.
(I have a tiny garden here at home,
To tease me with its hint of springtime green.)I kept my hand so supple and so white--
An artist's hands, that they might some time play
Great music! But my hands are scarred
And seamed with kitchen drudgery today.
(And my piano sits in soundless state;
I almost never find the time to play!)I thought that I should sail through southern seas.
Blue as inverted heaven beneath my eyes.
I longed to pick queer tropic fruits from trees
Brightened by nesting birds of paradise.
(Four walls confine my world today--and yet
All heaven lies always in my baby's eyes!)-- Selected