serious is the cost in care, in nerves, in patience, in all the great
elements of self-denial. No child ever knows what he has cost until he
has children of his own. But this discipline of self-denial is that
which saves us from selfishness. It is necessary to have some personal
objects for which to give our lives if they are to be saved from
centrifugation, from death through ingrowing affection. True, many
bachelors and spinsters have learned the way of self-denying,
fellow-serving love. But how can a true parent escape that lesson? Nor
does it stop with parents; as children grow up together they, too, must
learn mutual forbearance, conciliation, and, soon, the joy of service.
One sees selfishness in the little child gradually fading in the
practice of family service, helpfulness, consideration for others. The
single child in a family misses something more important than playmates;
he misses all the education of play and service. But who cannot remember
many families that have grown to beauty of character under the
discipline of home life, and especially when this has involved real
sacrifices? The stories in the Pepper books illustrate the spirit that
blossoms under the trials and hardships of the struggle of a family for
a livelihood and for the maintenance of a home.

A clear function becomes evident for this social group called the
family. It is that of dealing with young lives, in groups bound by ties
of blood and similarity, for purposes of the development of personal
character. The family has an essentially educational function. Bearing
in mind that "educational" means the orderly development of the powers
of the life, we can think of our families as existing for this purpose
and to be tested by their ability to do this work, especially by their
ability to develop persons, young lives, that have the power, the
vision, the acquired habits and experience to live as more than animals.
The family is an educational institution dealing with child-life for its