Once in a while it really does seem to me, on mature consideration, that regularity is worth that sacrifice, but so seldom as to be astonishing. One of the few instances is the regularity of the three meals a day. This seems to be an excellent means of inculcating real social feeling in the child, of making him understand the necessity for occasional sacrifices of individual desires to benefit the common weal. One should take care not to neglect or pass over the few genuine opportunities in the life of a little child, when he may feel that in common with the rest of the family he is making a sacrifice which _counts_ for the sake of the common good.
But most other situations yield very different results when analyzed. For instance, if a child must dress in a cold room it is better for an adult to stuff the little arms and legs into the clothes with all haste, rather than run the risk of chilling the child. But as a rule, if the conditions are really honestly examined, these two alternatives are seen not to be the only ones. He is set perhaps to dress in a cold room because we have a tradition that it is “messy” and “common” to have dressing and undressing going on anywhere except in a bedroom. The question I must then ask myself is no longer, “Is there not danger that the child will take cold if I give him time to dress himself?” but, “Is the ordered respectability of my warm parlor worth a check to my child’s normal growth?”
And it is to some such quite unexpected question that one is constantly led by the attempt really to analyze the various restrictions we put upon the child’s freedom to live his own life. These restrictions multiply in such a perverse ratio with the material prosperity and conventionality of our lives that it is a truism that the children of the very poor fare better than ours in the opportunities offered them for the development of self-reliance, self-control, and independence, almost the most valuable outfit for the battle of life a human being can have.
It is impossible, of course, to consider here all the processes of the child’s day in as minute detail as this question of his morning toilet. But the same procedure of “hands off” should be followed, because _help that is not positively necessary is a hindrance to a growing organism_. It is well to put strings for your vines to climb up, but it does them no good to have you try to “help” them by pulling on the tips of the tendrils. The little child should be allowed time to wash his own face and hands, to brush his teeth, and to feed himself, although it would be quicker to continue our Strasbourg goose tradition of stuffing him ourselves. He should, as soon as possible, learn to put on and take off his own wraps, hat, and rubbers. He should carry his own playthings, should learn to open and shut doors, go up and down stairs freely, hang up his own clothes (hooks placed low must not be forgotten), and look himself for articles he has misplaced.