A Matter of Cultivation : Part 3

The Girl and Her Religion
by Margaret Slattery

(Page 17 of 21)

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 God 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 God 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 God 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 God 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 God 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 class, 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 class, 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 God? 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 asset 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 God, 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 God 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.

Copyright, 1913 by Luther H. Cary
Fifth Printing, The Pilgrim Press
Boston