Each summer, our family would gather at one of my aunt’s charming houses for a weekend filled with laughter and jolly games. Our dear grandmother was always present, and she was a marvellous cook, providing us with delicious biscuits and other delightful treats. My mother and her sisters were fair, yet firm, and it was clear that my grandmother had raised them with proper discipline when it was required. We children, all about the same age, would set off to the park, quite forgetting the time in our excitement. The wind began to blow, and we knew a storm was coming, but we paid it little heed. Suddenly, the rain poured down in torrents, and the wind howled fiercely. We hurried to the park shelter and waited patiently for the storm to pass, which took about half an hour. When at last the rain stopped, we dashed home as quickly as we could, passing fallen branches and other signs of the storm’s mischief.
Upon our return, we knew at once that we were in trouble. Our mothers met us at the door, their faces pale with worry and cross with anger. They ushered us into the sitting room, where our grandmother sat, and our hearts sank, for we knew this would not be a pleasant afternoon.
Our mothers spoke to us very sternly, telling us how terribly worried they had been, and how we might have been hurt or worse. They said this was a mistake we would not soon forget.
My grandmother looked at Karen first and quietly told her mother to prepare her. Karen, who was about my age, looked most anxious as her mother approached. She protested as best she could, but there was nothing to be done. Her mother led her to our grandmother, who was now seated in a chair, holding a large bath brush, which she tapped gently against her knee.
Now, children, in those days, when one had done something very wrong, it was not unusual for a grown-up to give a little smack to help one remember the lesson. Grandmother was always fair, and she never punished us unless it was truly deserved. Karen’s mother gently explained that she must be brave, and Karen, with tears already in her eyes, was placed over Grandmother’s lap. Grandmother spoke kindly but firmly, telling her that she must learn to listen and not cause such worry again. Then, with the bath brush, she gave Karen a few sound smacks on her bottom—not too hard, but enough to make her understand the seriousness of her actions.
Poor Karen kicked her legs and wept, but Grandmother was gentle, pausing to remind her that everyone makes mistakes, but it is important to learn from them. As the smacks continued, Karen’s cheeks grew pink, and she promised through her sobs to be more careful in the future. Grandmother did not scold or shout; she simply did what she thought was right, and soon Karen’s punishment was over.
Grandmother helped Karen to her feet, and Karen, still sniffling, was comforted by her mother. She was told to stand by the wall with her hands on her head, not as a humiliation, but as a moment to think quietly about what she had done and how she might do better next time.
Next, it was Brian’s turn. He looked very frightened, but Grandmother smiled at him and said, “Be brave, Brian. This will soon be over.” Brian was placed over Grandmother’s lap, and she gave him a few firm smacks as well, just as she had done with Karen.
Brian wriggled and cried, but Grandmother reassured him that she still loved him very much. She explained that sometimes, when we make mistakes, we must accept the consequences, but that does not mean we are not loved. Brian’s tears soon turned to quiet sobs, and when his punishment was finished, he too was helped to his feet and given a gentle pat on the shoulder.
Brian was placed next to Karen, and the two stood together, learning that it is always best to listen to those who care for us, for they only wish to keep us safe.
Then Grandmother looked at me, and my heart fluttered with nervousness. My mother quietly helped me prepare, and I stood before everyone, feeling rather small and very sorry for what I had done.
Grandmother called me over, and I climbed onto her lap, my eyes brimming with tears. She spoke softly, telling me that she hoped I would remember this lesson for a long time. The bath brush landed on my bottom, and though it stung, I knew it was not done in anger, but in love and concern.
I cried, as any child would, but Grandmother paused to wipe my tears and told me that she was proud of me for being brave. She reminded me that everyone makes mistakes, but what matters most is that we try to do better next time. When my punishment was over, I was helped to my feet and given a warm hug.
I joined Karen and Brian by the wall, and together we stood, thinking about how much our family cared for us, and how important it was to listen and be safe.
Now it was Alexis’s turn. She tried to be very grown-up and insisted she was too old for such a punishment, but Grandmother only smiled and said, “No one is too old to learn a lesson.” Alexis was gently placed over Grandmother’s lap, and though she cried and protested, Grandmother was patient and kind.
When Alexis said a very naughty word, Grandmother stopped at once and said, “We shall have none of that!” Alexis’s mother took her to the bathroom to wash her mouth with soap, as was the custom in those days for such language. Alexis returned, looking rather sorry, and Grandmother finished her punishment with a few more gentle smacks, reminding her to always use kind words.
Alexis was comforted by her mother and joined us by the wall, her lesson learned.
At last, it was Karl’s turn. He was the eldest and looked quite pale, but Grandmother treated him just the same as the rest of us. She gave him a few firm smacks, and though he tried to be brave, he too cried a little. Grandmother told him she was proud of him for being honest about his mistake.
When all was finished, Grandmother gathered us together and told us that she loved us all very much. She explained that sometimes, when we do something wrong, it is important to accept the consequences and try to do better in the future. We were each given a warm hug and sent to bed early, not as a punishment, but so we could rest and think about the day.
That night, as I lay in bed, my bottom still a little sore, I thought about how much my family cared for me. I knew that Grandmother’s lesson was given with love, and I promised myself that I would always try to listen and be safe, so that I would never worry my family again.
And so, dear children, that is how I learned one of the most important lessons of my childhood: that those who love us sometimes must be firm, but it is always for our own good. And though the memory of that day stayed with me for a long time, I knew in my heart that I was very lucky indeed to have such a caring family.
