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222
A New England Girlhood, Outlined from Memory (Beverly, MA)
·
Lucy Larcom
8
I
do
not
feel
so
much
satisfaction
in
the
older
girl
who
comes
between
her
and
me,
although
she,
too,
is
enough
like
me
to
be
my
sister,
or
even
more
like
my
young,
undisciplined
mother;
for
the
girl
is
mother
of
the
woman.
But
I
have
to
acknowledge
her
faults
and
mistakes
as
my
own,
while
I
sometimes
feel
like
reproving
her
severely
for
her
carelessly
performed
tasks,
her
habit
of
lapsing
into
listless
reveries,
her
cowardly
shrinking
from
responsibility
and
vigorous
endeavor,
and
many
other
faults
that
I
have
inherited
from
her.
Still,
she
is
myself,
and
I
could
not
be
quite
happy
without
her
comradeship.
Every
phase
of
our
life
belongs
to
us.
The
moon
does
not,
except
in
appearance,
lose
her
first
thin,
luminous
curve,
nor
her
silvery
crescent,
in
rounding
to
her
full.
The
woman
is
still
both
child
and
girl,
in
the
completeness
of
womanly
character.
We
have
a
right
to
our
entire
selves,
through
all
the
changes
of
this
mortal
state,
a
claim
which
we
shall
doubtless
carry
along
with
us
into
the
unfolding
mysteries
of
our
eternal
being.
Perhaps
in
this
thought
lies
hidden
the
secret
of
immortal
youth;
for
a
seer
has
said
that
"to
grow
old
in
heaven
is
to
grow
young."
To
take
life
as
it
is
sent
to
us,
to
live
it
faithfully,
looking
and
striving
always
towards
better
life,
this
was
the
lesson
that
came
to
me
from
my
early
teachers.
It
was
not
an
easy
lesson,
but
it
was
a
healthful
one;
and
I
pass
it
on
to
younger
pupils,
trusting
that
they
will
learn
it
more
thoroughly
than
I
ever
have.
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