IN A FEW DAYS we will honor motherhood once again. Susannah Wesley, wife of a pastor and mother of 19 children, has gone down in history as an ideal mother. In spite of poverty, sickness, and disappointment, she managed her household well. Perhaps we can learn from her in today’s permissive society. She made time each week to take each of those boys and girls aside and counsel with them, speaking to them about the love of Jesus. Is it any wonder that one boy in that family became the greatest preacher of his generation, and another son became the greatest hymn writer in the English-speaking world? With a mother like that, we can understand why Charles Wesley wrote these lines, ardent with devotion to Christ: O for a thousand tongues to sing My great Redeemer's praise, The glories of my God and King, The triumphs of His grace! Jesus! the name that charms our fears, That bids our sorrows cease; 'Tis music in the sinner's ears; 'Tis life, and healthy, and peace.

Susannah’s rules for raising children were as follows:
1. Subdue self-will in a child and thus work together with God to save his soul.
2. Teach him to pray as soon as he can speak.
3. Give him nothing he cries for and only what is good for him if he asks for it politely.
4. To prevent lying, punish no fault which is freely confessed, but never allow a rebellious, sinful act to go unnoticed.
5. Commend and reward good behavior.
6. Strictly observe all promises you have make to your child.

She never allowed her temper to show through. Scolding was not practiced. She would always explain and explain.

Her influence over her children extended well into their adult years. When John Wesley was in college, he wrote asking his mother what books to read. And her recommendation influenced his life.

The influence of a mother can never be overestimated, be it good or evil. I recently came across a poem that expresses this truth.

A Mother's Influence
I took a piece of plastic clay
And idly fashioned it one day;
And as my fingers pressed it still
It moved and yielded at my will.
I came again when days were past,
The form I gave it still it bore,
And as my fingers pressed it still,
I could change that form no more.
I took a piece of living clay,
And gently formed it day by day,
And molded with my power and art,
A young child's soft and yielding heart.
I came again when days were gone;
It was a man I looked upon,
He still that early impress bore,
And I could change it never more.
- Source Unknown.