Woman July 7 1956 Page 65

“I learn as I go” by EVELYN HOME
The work that heals pain

To work for others when we have cause for grief, not just in the hope of deadening our own sorrow, but with a sincere wish to help, can widen our experience and enrich our lives

SOME people have a very useful gift, the ability to be comforted. I found, I had it myself after my father died.
The loss of him hurt terribly, and I missed him for what seemed to me a long time. But I was, young, and earning my living in a world which I found fascinating.
I have always been able to concentrate on whatever I am doing, so, while I was at work, I forgot most things outside the office. I became interested in my job, the people who worked with me, and the enchantment of London. 
For hours on end, I forgot I was sad. And in this forgetting lay the quickest cure for grief. In a matter of months, although I still mourned my father, I had recovered from his death.
But things were different, naturally enough, with my mother.
Because she was always brave, she soon overcame her sorrow enough to hide it. She was cheerful. Yet I felt that somehow she was not quite conscious, she was just enduring day after day without entering into life.
One day I found a new visitor to tea, when I had hurried home from the office. She was a middle-aged, comfortable woman, rather untidy, but with a smile which warmed the heart.
Her name was Mrs. Baxter, and the vicar had asked her to call on Mother. "I'm trying to persuade your: mother to come on my Teens Committee," she said. "You're a teenager yourself, Evelyn. Don't you think it's a good idea? "
It appeared that the Teens Committee had been formed by some local church people to keep an eye on boys and girls from unfortunate homes when they started work.
It tried to see that the youngsters went into decent jobs, that those who had, bad health didn't aggravate the condition by taking the wrong sort of posts, and so on. 
 Mother wasn't awfully keen on joining. She wasn't very keen on anything at that time. I suggested that it might be too tiring for her.
"You're always tired, Mum," I said. "Lifeless, anyhow. Wouldn't this be a bit wearing?" ,
"I'm not exactly tired," said Mother, with a break in her voice. "It's just that nothing seems, worth doing really. But at least this would be trying to help people, I suppose."
"You'll find it: surprisingly strenuous," said Mrs. Baxter drily. "And don't imagine, will you, Grace, that I’ve asked you to come on the committee for your health? I need a strong, practical woman with a sense of humour to help people. It might not help you to be on the committee but it may do good to someone else."
I was surprised that Mother was evidently intrigued by this. She decided to go to one or two committee meetings before making up her mind to join officially.
A few days later, when I came home I found, a note from Mother on the kitchen table. . "May be back about ten," it said. "Food in oven. I am out on the job! Love. Mother."
Jim was doing his, homework in a slightly dazed state. Ned was in bed.
"Mum's rushing round like a firecracker," said Jim. "What's it all about, Eve?"
"I'll ask her when she comes in," I said. "It can't be good for her, anyway."
It did not occur to me that what I really meant was that it wouldn't be good for me. While Mother was at home, she gave me lots of help and attention. Her being out would make me stand on my own feet more. 
When she came in, she made it clear that the committee had enslaved her. She was tired, her eyes were huge in her face, but she was brimming over with new interest and purpose.
"I had to go and see the Joneses this evening because that's the only time Mr. Jones is in," she said. "Young Bill has had TB and he's better, but he must work outdoors. Now he's been offered a job in his. uncle's tailoring shop, and his father doesn't like upsetting the family by refusing it, and the money's good. But he mustn't have that job. It will kill him."
"What are you going to do then?" I asked her, interested in spite of myself.
" Make them all see sense, including his uncle," snorted my mother. "And find an outside job that Bill might be able to do."
"Mother," I said, "I believe you've turned into one of those awful interfering women who go about a-doing of good".
Mother chuckled. "And why shouldn't I?" she said. "I've been idle long enough."

Before long I blessed Mrs. Baxter and her Teens Committee, because it brought my gay, lovable mother back to life.

"I thought I was a poor wretched widow," she said to me. "My goodness, Eve, I didn't understand what wretcnedness means. Now I know I'm lucky, even if I have lost my husband."
" I remember talking to Mrs. Baxter about it all.
"The committee has had a sort of miracle effect on Mum," I told her. . "She always said she could never drive a car, but she's passed her test now, because she must drive to do her work properly. And she goes and sees these fierce parents without turning a hair, one man who threatened to throw her out, ended by giving her a bunch of flowers. She talks to important people, like bishops, and she doesn't care."
Mrs. Baxter said thoughtfully: "Of course, her trouble was that she was too absorbed in her grief to notice anything else. Once she could see that other people needed her, she ignored her feelings to attend to them. The best way to cure painful feelings is to ignore them. Remember that, Eve; it might be useful to you one day."
I have remembered Mother and Mrs. Baxter, and the healing power of true charity many, many times since that moment. There is nothing condescending or sentimental about charity that is simply love in action. Nobody resents it.
Those who practise it find their broken hearts heal and their sorrows become bearable. Life fills itself with new things which gently press suffering into the background and transform it into memories, quite often the sweetest ones. 
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LINES ON LOVE   
There is in man an upwelling spring of life, energy, love. If a course is not cut for it, it turns the ground round into a swamp.  
MARK RUTHERFORD .
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Answers to readers' letters on page 67