...If You Ask Me, I Shall Answer You

Q — Here is my only son gazing across the seas to draw himself a future, while I and his sister have no support but him. I have tried my utmost to change his plan and to prepare his future here among us, but he is set in his resolve, stubborn in his opinion. I will not hide from you that I fear some entanglement his heart may stumble into that would be the fatal blow, depriving me of him. What is your view? — A.M.

A — Do not cloud your imagination with these pictures, O mother, for in them lies every pain for your heart... And what is a man worth if the storms of life do not shake him, so that he comes out of them with the resolve of discerning youth and the firmness of ripened judgment?!

There is no doubt that you have polished his soul with an abundance of knowledge and equipment; and had his mind been going to swerve from the straight road, that would have shown itself at some time, and in any place — nothing but his conscious will can prevail. So put your trust in God; as for your son, spur on his gallantry, and do not be a stumbling block in the path of his future.

Q — My husband's salary is a fixed monthly sum, and it suffices my family — my husband, myself, and our three children — only at a deficit, with exhausting scrimping and such a tightening of the hand that not one piaster escapes to no purpose. I find myself compelled to plunge my head into arranging a meager monthly budget, so that I neither exceed my means nor resort to debt. My father taught me this sentence:

My patience with myself is more fitting than people's patience with me.

And three months ago my husband began cutting 25 liras out of the salary on the pretext of trying his luck at the races or the like, giving me to believe that in it lay a chance of winning many times over the (respectable) salary. The result has been nothing but one loss after another. What is your advice, my situation being what it is?!... — H.R.

A — I most certainly do not favor being drawn along by this swaying luck that entices people with a deceptive glitter — and how often has that glitter turned into darkness and misery, doing away with the comfort of families that have only the barest pittance of livelihood, and that after toil and fatigue. I advise you to face your husband with gentle counsel, that he desist from running after this failing luck which keeps a man between the snatching of hope and the breaking of failure, in anxiety and bewilderment. And it is certain that if a man has any luck, its bestowal is from the hand of God, and by toil and diligence he will meet it.

Q — My neighbor's head boils with zeal (as he puts it), so he visits me whenever it occurs to him. He is sharp-tempered, and his talk is shouting. Every time he showers me with a volley of questions, criticisms, and opinions, without my ever coming round to accepting a single one of them, for they conflict with my thinking and my taste. Am I to blame if I cross him? Or shall I take refuge in composed silence? — Perplexed

A — Your position with your neighbor is difficult indeed, for in his nature there is self-conceit and volatility. It may be well — calm being in your nature — to offer him from time to time your guiding remarks on the benefit of calm nerves and a governed tongue, and on the value of personal liberty and mature thinking; you will thereby have prepared the ground for a second sitting. And if you reach a result in this social refinement with your neighbor, then you are a sound member of this society, which needs the counsel of people like you.

Q — This summer is taking us by surprise, and my spirit shrinks at the state of my arms; for with the heat glowering, I must resort to short sleeves, which expose the roughness and redness of my arms. I have spared no effort to remove this "bulgur," without success. Is there any way? — A young woman

A — I heard this recipe on the radio; if it does not help you entirely, I do not think it will harm you. Rub your arms with a loofah that is somewhat rough, and after drying apply this mixture:

A boiled potato, milk, bee's honey, good powder.

All of these in equal quantities, kneaded together, and the arms anointed with it before sleep.

Q — Every day a new conquest dawns upon us in the world of contests, or in the titles of queens — among them beauty queens, the queen of elegance, the dancing contest, the skiing contest, etc., etc...

We today need to catch up with the procession of civilization and race toward attaining it. May we then dream of a favor of this appealing kind, and begin with the essential ones, and so have stepped up the ladder of progress,

and drawn a useful page in our clamorous present?

So who, I wonder, is our queen of the home?!

And who is the queen of cooking?

And who is the queen of handwork, and of drawing?

And what is the witnessed event in which the flag of morals and virtue was raised to a silent eminence, so that admiration and title alike were at a loss? — M.D.

A — Well said indeed!! For there is no doubt that our thinking on matters profitable to the good of this nation is a duty, and lies within the grip of guidance.

And in your suggestion there is an originality not lacking in welcome novelty: the many groups would press forward to bring out the fertile forces among them and set them in the ranks of the racing first, forming a breakthrough in the paving of life's roads.

May the Ministry of Social Affairs lend this side of things its sympathy — and its adoption.

Q — I went down to the market — every day something takes me down to it, to buy some household needs — and naturally I would move from one shop to another until my choice fell on what suits my taste and my budget.

And how my skin tightens at all the smoothness of tongue and sweetness of phrasing squandered to lure me into buying whatever is offered me. This one swears by his honor, and that one by his children and his young manhood, that the price he has given me yields him no profit and that he asks it of no one else. And what will you say when all this flattery and cajoling proved false — fraud and deception — and he sold it, I am certain, for less than the price he had given me?

In God's name, what value has all this squandered talk?! And what halo of trust can surround swearing by children and by honor?! — Sh.L.

A — I am with you to the furthest limit in this field... There is in it something that wounds the soul — the emergence of fraud, deception, and dissembling in so many of life's processions; and in it lies the moral deterioration that destroys the very foundations of life, since it carries with it the herald of dissolution and extinction.

Nations are but their morals, so long as they endure...

And the one responsible for this is first the mother, and in the second rank the school, which instills strong morals and free principles, making of them a high ideal in the lives of individuals; for they are then drawn spontaneously to the good example, and firm foundations settle in their inmost selves, strong enough in their solidity against the cheap and the base, so that they neither stumble nor bend.

In truthfulness there is dignity and confidence; in lying, humiliation and disgrace.