How Good If We Recognized Our Own Mistakes!

She said to me in agitation: "Since my father's death I have been living with my mother, and her criticisms have grown day by day. We used to be happy, but now the situation is entirely different from before. Nothing I do pleases her, and sometimes she will not let me go out with my companions, while she bursts out shouting if I stay at home several days in a row, until I no longer know what to do — do I go out or not? She blames me whatever I do."

It happened that I had seen a motion picture presenting a story similar to that of this girl, twenty years of age and at a loss over her plight; and I concluded that her feeling toward her mother had reached a state of helplessness. So I asked her, inquiring: Does your mother go to see motion pictures?

— "Yes, every week, and we go together."

Here there was room for me to suggest an idea to her. I asked her to take her mother to see the film I had spoken of, and to turn her attention to the reaction in the mother's soul upon watching this story, without drawing her notice to anything — so that she herself might understand what she was seeing, and change; and perhaps that would help to solve the problem.

A week passed before the girl spoke to me and told me that her mother had loved the film, and had said she could not believe how a mother could treat her daughter with such selfishness and cruelty!

Our observation of the mistakes of others is keen, but rarely do we pay heed to our own. This happens at every moment, among the members of every family, in the various fields of life and in our relations with human beings differing in thought and in age. We criticize the conduct of others with all ease, but what a hard position it is when we confront ourselves.

A man boards the train and pushes angrily at the crowding people, hurling insults like molten lava, and he does not know that he is as responsible for the crowding as anyone else. And here is a lady who fumes because the shopkeeper did not give her more attention than his other customers, or did not give her the price she wanted, so she complains of him to the first person her eye falls upon.

And there is a young lady who is vexed and flares up because her fiancé is late for the appointment he set with her; she meets him with a scowl and a frown, spoiling the serenity of their time together, and perhaps that affects their relationship.

These are examples of mistakes into which one falls without intent and without thought of the ill consequence — and we ourselves may be among these people. Now let us look at their right to behave in this way. It may be that the gentleman who made the commotion in the railway car had not slept the night before — either because his child filled the house with screaming, that is, if he is married, or because he spent the night in revelry and drink. He may be troubled by a material need, or by a wife's illness, or perhaps the cause is purely physical, so that the slightest incident sets off his nerves.

As for the causes of the lady's ire, they may arise from the distance between her dwelling and the market — she wants to get back to bring her family's food — or she does not always visit the shops, and so wishes to cast a glance over the goods to learn the prices before she buys. And the young lady has experienced nothing of the affairs of this world, and thinks the world runs on her account; she finds everything she asks for ready at hand, and her parents' idea of her has deceived her, so that she has come to suppose herself the only one in the world; and for lack of dealings with the other sex, she has not discovered what goes on in a world beyond the bounds of her home. Her fiancé, meanwhile, has an excuse for his lateness: he is doing extra work, and this is what compelled him to be late. If we reflect a little, we find that every person has an excuse for his conduct; and if we were in his place, we would feel that our behavior was logical and clear, justified by the situation. There are causes for every event, and once we think in this way, we will not arrive at a judgment on a matter before we have accounted for the facts.

Have you ever noticed, in watching a film or reading a story, how you compare the heroine with yourself? Every writer tries to create a character to lead him through the story's dialogue, just as he strives to make his book a mirror for the readers, in which they see themselves; and the clearer the drawing, the greater their eagerness to read the story. What attracts them most is the fanciful romantic tale, then struggle and pain, and how the heroine overcame difficulties and smoothed her path through life.

We return to the critics, and their pardoning of themselves for the very same offense. A woman's complaining of her husband dampens his ardor and his energy, and turns him to withdrawing into himself. And then, what use is anxious grumbling? It changes nothing in the secret of life, and the one who complains loses confidence in himself when the listener turns away from him, and that lowers his personal standing.

Often the critic believes himself perfect, and this shows his failure to understand the laws of life and its philosophy, since he does not admit his weakness. It is fitting to address to him this proverb: "If you live in a house of glass, do not throw stones at others." And who among us does not live in a house of glass?

And I state with all certainty that a person who sees only the mistakes of others is afflicted with an inferiority complex. When you see the fault in another's conduct, search for it in yourself and work to correct it; that will lead you to frank, logical thinking and to an understanding of yourself — and thereby to a happy life.