Devoted to the Propagation and Defense of New Testament Christianity
VOLUME 20
June 6, 1968
NUMBER 6, PAGE 9-10a

Our Family Column

What Would You Do In This Situation?

Recently I was riding in a funeral coach returning from an interment service. Funeral directors are usually interesting conversationalists, so I enjoyed a diverse dialogue with the man at the wheel during the hour's drive from the cemetery to the city.

The driver of the hearse, being a devout and sincere religionist, told of his reaction to an unpleasant event in an elevator. The elevator was crowded as it escalated toward the top of a high-rise building. A rude and brusque man was engaged in a lively talk in which he used profane language and employed God's name irreverently and abusively. There were women and children on board and all were made uneasy by the boorish man's unrestrained speech.

My funeral director friend was especially perturbed. He deeply resented "My Lord's name being abused in such a manner." He resolved to "praise the Lord" the next time he finds himself in a situation like this. Said he, "If a fellow like that can abuse my Lord I have the right to praise God. So next time I'm going to say 'Praise God', 'Glory to Jesus the Lord and Saviour.'"

He asked me what I thought. I observed that if he reacted like this folks would think he was some kind of nut and might pitch him out of the elevator at the first stop, while leaving the profane person alone! He asked, "Well, what would you do preacher?"

I suggested that one might ask the profane person, "Where do you go to church?" "No", answered the mortician, "if you were to say something like this you would puncture the fellow's ego and in spite he would say something worse, react with anger, or in some way create a more difficult situation."

So, my friend maintains his resolve to "praise God" the next time he finds himself in a situation like this.

What would you do? What would you suggest mother, if you were on that elevator with your child? How about you father, as you take note of the grieved countenance of the ladies aboard? As a teenager, what would you say, if anything?

Let us hear from you on this. Write to The Gospel Guardian's family column and give us your observations and suggestions. You may want to write a short article about the matter. We'll be glad to print letters or remarks from parents, teenagers and children about this. Wonder what the consensus will be? Watch this column for it.- — -Wm. E. Wallace

What Is A Baby?

A tiny feather from the wing of love dropped into the sacred lap of motherhood.

The bachelor's horror, the mother's treasure, and the despotic tyrant of the most republican household.

A human flower untouched by the finger of care.

The morning caller, noonday crawler, midnight brawler.

The magic spell by which the Lord transforms a house into a home.

A stranger with unspeakable cheek that enters a house without a stitch to his back and is received with open arms by everyone.

A bursting bud on the tree of life.

The only precious possession that never excites envy.

The latest edition of humanity of which every couple think they possess the finest copy.

A native of all countries who speaks the language of none.

The unconscious mediator between father and mother and the focus of their hearts.

About twenty-two inches of coo and wriggle, writhe and scream, filled with suction and testing apparatus for milk, and automatic alarm to regulate supply.

A quaint little craft called innocence, laden with simplicity and love.

A curious bud of uncertain blossom.

A thing we are expected to kiss, and look as if we enjoyed it.

The smartest little craft afloat in homes delighted bay.

A mite of humanity that will cry no harder if a pin is stuck into him than he will if the cat won't let him pull her tail.

A little stranger, with a free pass to the heart's best affections.

The most extensive employer of female labor.

The pupil from which the leaves of life's book are made.

A padlock on the chain of love.

A soft bundle & love and trouble which we cannot do without.

It's a sweet and tiny treasure, A torment and a tease, It's an autocrat, an anarchist, Two awful things to please.

It's a wailing human night alarm, And terror of your days.

The sweetest thing God every made and forgot to give wings to.

A pleasure to two, a nuisance to every other body and a necessity of the world. An inhabitant of Lapland.

That which makes home happier, love much stronger, patience greater, hands busier and night longer, days shorter, purses lighter, clothes shabbier, the past forgotten, the future brighter.

- — -From Quests and Conquests.