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CONFESSIONS OF A WIFE
WHY I NEVER PRAY
(Copyright, 1915, by the Newspaper Enterprise Association.)
Little book, little book, when that
awful presence came near and grip
ped me with its destroying hand I be
came only the animal'that is all in
humanity that nature recognizes.
I could not reason, I could only
feel. There was no use of mind, only
the instinct to free myself from phy
sical pain at any cost, and yet I know
this minute that the torture of travail
is not too great a price to pay for
motherhood. It is only when your
"aching arms hold empty air" that
you remember your darkest hour.
Oh, my baby, my baby, why am I,
who wanted for you so and who could
bear you in honor and bring you up
in comfort and love to be denied you
while some poor girl sighs and moans
when she hears the first cry of flesh
of her flesh and blood of her blood
and knows it means nothing to her
but disgrace, and grief to the babe
who is already making protest at be
ing brought into a world of unhap
piness. "Why don't it cry? Why don't it
cry?" I asked Aunt Mary in that mo
ment of blessed surcease from agony
when I knew my child was born.
I could only hear the low voices
of nurses and doctor but could not
distinguish what they said. (I was too
weak to turn my head to see what
they were doing.) Aunt Mary clasp
ed my hands and bent over me. I
had a feeling that she was trying to
shield me from something.
"Is anything the matter with my
baby? Why don't it cry?"
"They are working with it, Mar
gie." "Working with it why what is the
matter with it why should they
work with it? Why don't they bring
it to me so that I can see it " I tried
weakly to get out of bed to go to it
but I could not move.
"Hush, dear, I think they will bring
you your son in a few minutes."
"Oh, Aunt Mary, is it a boy?" Tearsi
of joy coursed down my cheeks.
"Yes, dear," she said slowly. )
"Have they taken him out of the
room? I don't hear them talking any.
more and has he cried? -
"Aunt Mary Aunt Mary don'ti
keep me in suspense. Is anything the
Tears from Aunt Mary's eyes drop-
ped on my face. ?
"There is something the matter.
What is it, tell me what it is. Oh,3
Aunt Mary, I never thought youa
would be cruel to me."
"Hush, dear, I don't mean to be
cruel, but the nurses and doctor are,,
still working over your baby, Margie
don't, don't " she said as with al-'
most superhuman effort I rose to my
elbow and wildly tried to get out of-
"They are doing everything they,
can, dear, and all hope is not gone
that they will be able to resuscitate-,
him. Margie, dearest, be calm." p
"Where's Dick? I want Dick. TeU
him to send for more doctors."
"Dick is with them, dear, and
everything is being done that can. beo
We will only have to wait" G
"Wait," I wailed. "Must I lie here,i
like a stone and wait, not knowing
whether my baby is going to live or
die? I can't do it I tell you, I can'tg
Aunt Mary put her arms closer
about me and whispered "Courage R
courdge, my dearest Margie, remem-v
ber God's will be done."
I clutched her hands. "That's it,"-
I whispered. "We must pray prayf
that He will change His mind and
give me back my baby. Oh, Aunv
Mary, I've never been wicked. Surely,rr
God will let me have my baby if you
ask him. Pray, Aunt Mary, pray."
Aunt Mary dropped on her knees-r
beside me, one of her arms wasaldfj
lightly across my breast. My heart