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The New Zealand Railways Magazine, Volume 12, Issue 12 (March 1, 1938.)

The New Baby. — And the Older Child

The New Baby.
And the Older Child.

Do you remember when, before Billy was born, you had spoken to Mary about the prospect of having a new baby brother or sister to play with? Mary thoroughly approved of the idea. Another child to play with was one of the greatest goods you could offer her.

And then do you remember the day Mary first came in to see you and the baby? She was excited and a little scared of the hospital surroundings. She found even you a little strange after the period of absence. The baby brother was much smaller than she expected, and obviously was not yet ready to play with her; but she was interested.

Then you went home. Billy was certainly a bonny baby, and so said all your numerous callers. Billy took up a good deal of your time. He was inclined to be delicate at first. Somehow, you did not have as much time for Mary as you wished, but you lulled your conscience with the thought that she was quite a big girl now and seemed to be good at occupying herself with play in quiet corners of the house or garden.

Then, as Billy grew older, and commenced to toddle, you were disappointed at Mary's treatment of him. Mary regarded the minding of Billy as a task, and did not seem to want to play with him much. At times, they would be playing happily together, but if Billy presumed and grasped some toy or upset some arrangement of Mary's, she was angry, pushed him away, and would not have anything to do with him. You pointed out that she was a selfish little girl, that Billy was much smaller than she was, but your words seemed to do no good.

If visitors were there, and Billy, a happy-hearted little chap, was being made a fuss of, Mary would slip away by herself. You were a bit worried that she did not seem to like people.

Even now that Mary and Billy are much older, they are not the good friends you once hoped they would be. Why? Because Mary was jealous! Jealous? What a horrid word! Mary really has a very nice nature, etc., etc. Of course she has. She is a fine child. But you yourself were the cause of jealousy and the spoiling of relations between your children.

When Mary was an only child she received all your attention and care. When Billy came, she did not receive even a half portion. Unavoidable, you say. You certainly could not have given her as much of your time as previously, but you could at least have shown one hundred per cent. interest in her. A little girl-child like that would have loved to share the baby with you, to talk to you and plan with you about it. As long as she knew that her place was as warm in your heart as ever, she would have welcomed the baby brother eagerly. Why didn't you share him with her, instead of making her feel alone, and, to some extent, cast out. She doesn't know why she isn't terribly fond of Billy. But that's why—he's a usurper.

What can you do about it? Nothing. An impression so deep in early childhood is hard to eradicate. But you can at least make sure that your own relationship with her is right, and that she knows of your interest in and love for her.

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