"Your child broke a vase at a friend's house — how do you meet his act? The opinion of the American, the Englishwoman, the Frenchwoman, and the Lebanese woman."
An old friend once visited me and brought her two children along to play with mine. She and I sat talking, and we left the little ones to themselves, playing in the garden within sight of us. Suddenly we heard the sound of something shattering.. The three children had slipped in to where we were sitting, and their eyes had been caught by a beautiful vase in the shape of a bird carrying flowers on its back, which stood on a table in the corner. The boy picked it up, and the girl tried to take it to look at it before him; it slipped from her hands and fell to the floor, shattered. And here arose the problem into which every mother alike falls, and over whose solution she is at a loss the moment it happens. Should my companion scold her two children and punish each of them by barring them from going on with their play, leaving my son to play and romp by himself? Or leave them be, threatening them with punishment when she got home? Or give her anger free rein and punish each of them until they are deterred from such deeds? Or take her two children, excuse herself, and depart, saying to them: "You are not fit to come visiting with me, because this behavior of yours lowers my standing"? Or hold to the principle of not wounding a child's feelings in front of strangers, and then take up the conversation again as though nothing had happened? All these reactions come from a great many mothers, but each of them has its faults. As for my companion, she acted wisely — and I shall tell you, ladies, what she did, after I give you the opinions of ladies from different circles whom I canvassed on this subject. I asked an English mother, an American, a Frenchwoman, and a Lebanese. Here, then, is what each of them said.
I asked the Englishwoman: If your child shows some misbehavior in company, or if he falls short in his school duties, do you scold him in front of others? She answered, in effect: If he is ill-mannered in company I reprimand him before people and ask him, gently but firmly, to apologize. And I would rather wound his dignity myself ten times over than have others wound it, even by a hint. Nevertheless, in certain serious cases I prefer the reprimand to take place out of hearing and out of sight, so as to spare the boy the weight of feeling humiliated before people — a feeling that may breed in his soul a vicious inclination toward cowardice and fear, or an inclination to rebel against his mother, to shrink from her, and to bear a grudge against all people. Yet whenever my son does something worthy of admiration, I praise him before all our acquaintances and