Mental hygiene for effective living / by Edwin A. Kirkpatrick.

  • Edwin Asbury Kirkpatrick
Date:
[1934], ©1934
Catalogue details

Licence: Public Domain Mark

Credit: Mental hygiene for effective living / by Edwin A. Kirkpatrick. Source: Wellcome Collection.

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    friend, thinking a summer in camp would help her, had sent her to be with us. Once dressed in the regulation camp costume, rich and poor were alike, and Gertrude never knew that Ann came from an extremely needy home. From the first, they were friends, and throughout the summer their friendship grew. Of course it became known to Gertrude before long that Ann didn’t have all that she had, but it seemed to make no difference. Ann had much less spend¬ ing money than did Gertrude, and often the one with plenty would treat her little friend to something. This friendship seemed queer to many, and often people would remark that it was strange for one having as much as Gertrude to condescend to have Ann as a friend. At the close of the summer, Gertrude, then sixteen years of age, said to me, “I have learned more this summer than I ever have before in my life. Ever since I can remember I have associated with only those whom my parents chose for me to have as friends. They were always children of wealthy parents, and I was taught that children of poor parents were not fit for me to associate with. But this summer has taught me differently. My best friend here at camp has been a girl who has nothing at home like I have, but who is just as nice, in fact a lot nicer, than a lot of my friends at home.” And this was Ann’s reaction to it all. “Before this summer I always thought that rich children were snobs. I thought they were selfish and that they looked down on us who are poor. Gertrude isn’t like that, and I don’t believe she is nice to me just because she feels sorry for me, but because she really likes me. I guess I was all wrong about rich children.” Dorothy was an only child of very wealthy parents. From the time she was born she had always been cared for by governesses and special maids. Whenever she wanted clean clothes, she always found them neatly folded in her drawer, and it had never once entered her head as to who might have been responsible for their being there. After having been at camp only ten days Dorothy informed me one morning that she was going to have to buy eight new pairs of black stockings. “Eight new pairs of black stockings!” I exclaimed. “Why, Dorothy, you had eight new pairs when you came here only ten days ago.” And then she told me the sad story of how every one of the eight pairs had holes in them. When I asked if they were very large holes, she remarked that most of them were about the size of a pin, but that of course she couldn’t wear the stockings. To my