Proverbs 29:14 - 17
If you were around in the 1950s you may remember that getting a switching with a hickory switch or a flyswatter wasn’t that unusual. At least, it was too unusual at the Little house. As a matter of fact, there weren’t many days that Lula Mildred Little didn’t get a well deserved switching.
Now mother wasn’t a rough switcher. I would at times tell her that her “switchin'” didn’t hurt. I soon became intelligent enough on the matter to learn that you don’t tell a “switchin” mother that. She starts the switchin’ again – only a little harder.
Mother had several flyswatters – many were used to swat flies. However, there was always a special flyswatter hanging by the kitchen door to swat bottoms or legs of misbehavin’ children. Seems that mother could reach us with a flyswatter as we ran away easier than any other “bottom swattin” tool.
Another favorite tool of “swattin” was a switch from the hickory bush that grew on the side of the house. Mother used to go down and “pick” a prime hickory switch, when needed. She would then clean the switch of leaves – except on the end. Those leaves prevented marks on little legs (and cut the sting when used).
Mother was injured in a car accident when I was small. She received a back injury that made it difficult for her to go down the steps from the porch to the yard to get the switch. So, she would stand on the porch and say, “Lula Mildred Little, go get me a hickory switch.”
A couple of clues here – First, she was mad – thus the “Lula Mildred Little” at the beginning of the sentence. Second, she really thought that I was going to go get her a good hickory switch to use on my little legs.
I must confess, the first couple of times, I did go get a nice hickory switch for my mother and take it to her. Of course, I got the “This is going to hurt me more than you” speech. Right, no way did that switch hurt her little legs as much as they did mine! No way!!!
Before too long, I caught on about the switch. When mother would send me to get a hickory, I would walk around the yard in deep thought. Mother would voice a reminder, “Lula Mildred, get that switch right now!”
I walked a little longer until I found the exact right switch. The high grass on the yard with the little seeds on the end. That grass looked like a hickory switch - sort of. I was very sure that my Mama wouldn't know the difference. I would pull up the 4 – 6 inch blade of grass and very pitifully take it to mother. You have never seen such a pitiful face.
That worked – once. Mother got tickled when she saw me approaching all pitiful with a flimsy weed in my hand. I was saved from a switchin! At least that time. I thought I was a genius!
Next time I was sent to get a switch, I tried the same routine. Mother waited on the porch, but this time no smile came to her face.
“On no”, she said, as I leaned over to pull up another weed. “You go right over there and get me a hickory switch, young lady.”
How did she always know what was going on in my mind? Like I was trying to take her attention away from the switchin and back to how cute I was or something. I never could figure it out. Even as long as I’ve been a mother, I still can’t! Mothers just know – they just do!
No matter how cute we are. They know when we are pulling one over on them. How’d they get so smart, anyway?
PS... Those "switchins" didn't cause me irreparable harm. In fact, they probably made me better. Those "switchins" were pure love of a parent to teach a child right from wrong. There is a difference between abuse and loving discipline. I wasn't "hit" - I was "switched" - Not in anger, but in love.
Lord, thank you for parents who love us enough to discipline us when we need it. Help us to carry those lessons to our children, who will carry it to our grandchildren. Discipline with love at the heart is the way that you taught us. Lord, let me remember to use you as my model when dealing with others in my life. Amen.
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