0 BRIGHTEN THE CORNER WERE YOU ARE; by Mrs. E. M. C., Illinois, October 1927

From Laurie: Last week was full of homeschool, a wonderful time at an historic village (Stonefield) not far from my home, very bad colds, and canning or freezing our garden produce. I have a few more beets and carrots to freeze, (hopefully tonight) but that is it from our garden, although I still might can some apples. During my husband's work day, he passes by a Mennonite food store that sells "second" apples for $18 a bushel (about 50 pounds.) That price is waaayyy higher this year, but with the drought I am just thankful that we are able to get any apples at all.

On to today's posting...It is a good reminder for me, not because I dislike my job of homemaker on our six and a half acres, but if I am not feeling well, crabby I can be!  

Dear Farmers' Wives: I married very young and came from a large city to be a farmer's wife. At first I thought I could not stay because it was unendurable,--so dull, so quiet and lonely on that beautiful farm. I loved my husband dearly, but I began to think I had made a terrible mistake, for always I had wanted to do things, be somebody, and do something great for the world to remember. I loved to go, go, go, and oh, I despised the monotony of farm work.

Then along came the babies, one, two, three, in five years. Much as I loved them, they kept me at home more than ever and the work--! Well, it was never really finished. I was tired, crabbed and cross all the time, for you know there is no pleasure in doing one thing and wishing, always wishing you could be doing another.

One evening when I was putting little Mae to bed, she said her prayer, then added softly this postscript, "Please God, make our Mama not so sour." Only a postscript, but I heard, and how thankful I am that I did. It awoke me. It set me thinking. How did my family regard me? I knew, but dared not let myself think about it. I was ashamed!

Days of deep thought, nights of wakefulness, and I came to the conclusion that I was a snob, making everybody else about me miserable. Even if it had not fallen to my lot to be a "President Coolidge" or a "Harriet Beecher Stowe," there was in this great beautiful world a tiny corner all my own which I had better brighten for the sake of others.

I got to work immediately. It took will power, for I want to tell you that being a grouch can become a firm habit. But I succeeded and today we are a happy family and mother is the merriest of the whole bunch! These words have helped me wonderfully in seeing my mistake and brightening my corner:

"It may not be on the mountain top
Or over the stormy sea;
It may not be in the battle front,
My Lord may have need of me.

"There is surely somewhere a lonely place
In earth's harvest field so wide,
Where we may labor in life's short day
For Jesus the crucified."