The New Dare to Discipline by James Dobson Read Free Book Online Page B

Minie and Moe, were evicted from their “under the shingle” nest, and we adopted them. Their feathers were down like fuzz and their bod- ies seemed to consist of legs, wings, and mouths. They chirped constantly to be fed, after which their cries settled into a lovely lullaby. They outgrew their first cozy nest and your dad transferred them to a larger box from which they could not escape. So the only exposure they had to the outside world was the 2’ x 3’ area above their heads. They seemed to know this opening was where the action was, so they huddled together with their heads turned upward, tweet-tweeting their little tunes. When your dad peered over the top with our dog, Benji, all four birds would open their yellow beaks—chirping—“Worms! Worms!”
    As the foursome grew, they sat on a tree limb where your dad placed them. Sometime jumping to the ground, they followed him around the yard, cuddling his shoes and not letting him get more than a few inches away. Their jerky movements made it impossible to keep pace.
    From the beginning, we were unsure what we should feed them. Your dad gave them soft bread and milk—dipping it with tweezers into their wide open beaks . . . along with worms, grain, and a few drops of water from an eyedropper. However, on the ninth morning, Jimmy found Moe dead. What to do?! The tenth afternoon Meenie died. The eleventh night he looked down at the two remaining birds. Even while he looked at them, Minie gave a long “Chirp,” lay down, stretched out his legs, and died. That left Eenie, the strongest of the birds . . . the one with the most vitality and personality. This morning, however, his vocalizations were desperate and weaker. He only lived until noon. As Jimmy bent over the box nest, Eenie recognized his presence, reached toward him and gave one last “cheep,” and was gone.
    How sad we both were—that we somehow had failed the helpless creatures who tried so hard to live and fly in the beautiful sky. Your father’s love for those insignificant birds and his sadness over their loss reveal the soul of the man I married and have lived with for forty-three years. Does anyone wonder why I love this man?
    Your Mother
    The man who was so loved by my mother was not long for this world. He died a month later while sitting at the dinner table. His last act before falling into her arms was to express a prayer of blessing on the meal he would not live to eat.
    And the starlings? The best explanation for their failure to thrive is that my dad simply overfed them. He was fooled by their constant plea for food. In an effort to satisfy their need, my father actually killed the birds he sought desperately to save.
    Does the point come through? We parents too, in our great love for our children, can do irreparable harm by yielding to their pleas for more and more things. There are times when the very best reply we can offer is . . . no.
    5. Establish a balance between love and discipline. We come now to the foundational understanding on which the entire parent-child relationship rests. It is to be found in a careful balance between love and discipline. The interaction of those two variables is critical and is as close as we can get to a formula for successful parenting.
    We’ve already looked at the first factor, disciplinary control, and what the extremes of oppression and permissiveness do to a child. The other ingredient, parental love, is equally vital. In homes where children are not adored by at least one parent (or a parent-figure), they wither like a plant without water.
    It has been known for decades that an infant who is not loved, touched, and caressed will often die of a strange disease initially called marasmus. They simply wither up and die before their first birthday. Evidence of this emotional need was observed in the thirteenth century, when Frederick II conducted an experiment with fifty infants. He wanted to see what language they would speak if they never had the