Читать книгу The Mother and Her Child - Lena K. Sadler - Страница 34

Certain fears are suggested to children. For twenty years I lived under the delusion that I was terribly afraid of snakes—more so than any other human being; for I was told when a mere child that I had been "marked with the fear of snakes," that just two months before I saw the peep of day, my esteemed mother had been terrified by a snake. Everywhere I went, I announced to sympathizing and ofttimes mischievous friends, that "I was marked with the fear of snakes and must never be frightened with them." It is needless to add in passing, that I was teased and frightened all through my girlhood days. I was a veritable slave to the bondage of snake-fear. Everywhere I went I looked for my dreaded foe, expecting to sit on one, step on one, or to have one drop into my lap from the roof.

The day of deliverance came after marriage, when in a supreme effort to deliver me from the shackles of fear, the goodman of the house tenderly, but firmly, maneuvered a morning walk so that it halted in front of a large plate-glass window of the Snake Drug Store in San Francisco. Just back of this plate glass, and within eighteen inches of my very nose, were fifty-seven varieties of the reptiles, big and small, streaked and checkered, quiet and active. After much remonstrance and waiting, I came-to—gazed at the markings, beautiful in their exactness—while slowly the change of mind took place. Faith took the place of fear, calmness subdued panic, and I was wondrously delivered from the veritable bondage of a score of years. And so it is that the mother suffers and then the child suffers, ofttimes a living death, because of the superstition "I'm marked," while there is ever present the fear or dread that "something is going to happen, because I'm different from all other individuals—because 'I'm marked!'"