They come to the church a few at a time on this warm September morning, small children and their mothers. One child clutches a teddy bear, another trails a tattered blanket behind him while his older sister skips confidently on ahead. As I watch, still other mothers appear, some carrying infants and diaper bags. One has her hair up in curlers, a trench coat thrown over her pajamas. It’s nine o’clock. All of them are on time, for this is the first day of the eighth year of our Mother’s Day Out program at the church.
I have come as always with a sense of gratitude and some amazement at what is happening. Our program is licensed to care for eighty children. We have never advertised, yet every space is filled. There’s even talk of adding another day to accommodate more mothers.
For five hours our staff will provide a safe and loving atmosphere for these children while their mothers do the things that are best performed without a small child’s presence. One woman is planning a special lunch out with her husband; another will go home to take a nap while her baby is cared for; still another is planning to paint a fence. All of them will return on the dot of two o’clock to pick up their children. They’ll be refreshed, happier, and definitely grateful for the time free from child care.
Ten years ago the program didn’t exist, and probably the need didn’t either. Our church, surrounded by cornfields and peopled by a congregation in which everyone knew or was related to his neighbor, struggled to meet the challenges of residential growth. Townhouses and new homes sprang up daily.
The number of people increased, and I agreed apprehensively to do some calling for our minister. On my first visit, I discovered a young mother sick in bed, her baby’s diapers piled high on the living room couch, the sink filled with dirty dishes. Two other children played nearby. I washed the dishes, folded the diapers, and later listened to her tearful account of a husband whose new job as a supermarket manager required him to work twelve-to fourteen-hour days. Later that day, I visited with another woman whose husband worked days and attended school at night. We attempted to visit in spite of the noise and interruptions of her three small children. “I wish I knew someone to leave them with for awhile,” she confided wistfully, “but we’re new in this area, and I can’t afford a baby sitter.”
I went home that day with a mounting sense of frustration which grew as I continued my calling in the following weeks. Eventually I talked to my pastor. “What these women need,” I suggested, “is a place where one day a week they can come and leave their children, knowing they will be safe and loved.” He nodded in agreement, and suggested I discuss it at my next circle meeting.
I took his advice, and at that meeting the women voted to form a committee to look into day care facilities for mothers who needed some time to themselves during the week. I also confided my concerns to my prayer group. One of our members, a young mother of two, had a teaching background and offered to head up the program. Reflecting on this decision, she says, “I felt I should take the job of director, but I didn’t want to. I knew it would be a lot of work, and although I was an elementary education major, I didn’t have any background in administration. My relationship with the Lord was new, and I was just learning to be obedient to him.” Finally she made the simple announcement: “I’ll do it.”
With the position of director settled, the day care committee made an appointment at the State Department of Welfare with the day care consultant. There we learned how little we knew and how much there was to be done. In Minnesota, the desire to care for children is only the beginning. There are policies and procedures covering thirty-three pages for licensing a day care center. It looked overwhelming.
¥ We discovered we needed separate sleep and play areas for the children. We had to find cribs and cots our church had two cribs, and we found four more by reading newspaper ads. Our nursery school director agreed to let us share some puzzles, records, blocks, and tricycles. We purchased additional toys at garage sales, and some were donated by church members.
¥ There had to be adequate water and sewage facilities; one toilet for every fifteen children and water in every room. We found we were responsible for meeting the health and nutrition needs of the children. That meant covered electrical outlets, fruit for snacks, and health examinations for everyone.
¥ Each child needed thirty-five feet of usable floor space, and a written program had to be developed to include such things as dramatic play, art, and music. We found dress-up clothes at the church rummage sale; bought paper, paint, and paste; and felt fortunate the church already had pianos and record players. The Women’s Society gave us $150 to be used for our initial expenses, which was to be paid back when we became self-supporting.
Finally, we were ready to hire the staff; but first, we had to get approval from the church board. Several of us decided to attend their meeting together, and the board members had many questions: Couldn’t we work with the existing nursery school? Why couldn’t these women get their own baby sitters? (They had doubts about the need.) How much wear and tear would there be on the tile floors? Who would replace broken windows? Who would clean walls marred by small fingers? (They had concerns about the building.) We looked at each other in dismay.
Rather than concern about the service we would be providing to the community, their questions centered around preservation of the building. Just when it looked like our months of work were destined to fail, one man spoke up from the back of the room. “These are some of the most respected women in our church. You’re treating them as if they have come here tonight asking for a liquor license instead of approval to open a day care center. If they think it can be done, I think we should trust them.” His support came at a crucial time, and soon after, the motion for approval was passed.
Selecting the staff was our next big job. The state required one person for every four infants. Who could possibly accept the responsibility for that part of the program? As I thought about it, I remembered a woman I’d met only months before, with a young baby herself and a nursing degree. She belonged to the local Baptist church. I remembered her quiet warmth and her laugh. I was convinced she was the right person for the baby room- but would she do it? It took one telephone call, and we had her acceptance. Now, eight years later, I asked her why she had taken the job. “I appreciate the fact that it helps to have someone take your children so you can have a little break. The Mother’s Day Out program seemed to be an ideal opportunity to give children a lot of love and attention, and it was also an opportunity for my own baby to be with other children.”
Gradually, we added the rest of the staff, and four of the original five are still in the program. One who began as a mother’s helper has been in the toddler room the past seven years. “Two-year-olds give so much back to you,” she says, explaining her commitment to the program. “Most of them have never been away from Mommy before, and they change and grow so much in one year. I like to think I’ve had a part in it.”
For another, the day care meant getting outside the home without going back to full-time teaching. She and her family eventually joined the church largely because of her day care experience. “I felt so at ease at the church, coming as I did every week, and I met so many nice people.”
We hired one woman to handle the responsibility of making snacks, cleaning up, and doing all the jobs no one else had time for. She did and still does everything from taking the money to mopping up spilled milk.
Volunteers helped too, that first year: women from the prayer group and the congregation, and mothers who agreed to work four times a year when they registered their children. Today, we have fourteen paid staff and three mother-helpers each week. The day care is non-profit and selfsupporting. Each staff person is paid $20 a day, and their children come free to the program. Mothers pay $5 per child per day, one month in advance. And although it’s not necessary, we pay the church $100 a year for the use of the building, and $100 a year for janitorial service. All of the equipment we have purchased-rugs, chairs, tables, and toys-is also used by the Sunday school.
Our director looks back on that first year as a time when she learned to depend on the Lord. “I was essentially a substitute for all of the rooms. In addition to being teacher/director, I filled in for anybody who didn’t show up. I spent lots of time in prayer when I was short either kids or staff. We’ve always given credit for any child who couldn’t be there, and offered the opportunity to use the space to someone else on the waiting list. Although there have been very few cases of financial need, there is always the understanding that no one will be turned away because of inability to pay.”
And what of the mothers for whom the program was started? Have they really been helped?
¥ “I was home all day with a baby I didn’t know how to take care of. There was no one else to leave her with. My parents lived too far away. The day care saved my sanity. It was a few hours without the responsibility of a child. Now there is a whole group of us who leave our kids at the church and go out shopping or have lunch together. It has helped me deepen my church friendships.”
¥ “Eventually we joined the church. My best friend is someone I met dropping off my kids there.”
¥ “Originally, we approached the day care as a morning out for me. Our family is all from the South, and there were no cousins or aunts around to babysit. The second year, however, we realized what a good thing it was for our son. My husband is Cuban, and we always says grace at the table in Spanish. When our son came home and asked to say his grace in English, I knew he wasn’t just playing at the day care, he was learning. The day care program has been a great blessing to our family, and I now use many mornings to work with Cuban refugees.”
¥”After I had my baby, I went through a time of depression. My husband decided he should quit the choir so he could relieve me with the baby. He mentioned the day care program to me, and when the director called and said there was an opening, I was overjoyed. From then on it helped me get through the week. Lots of women use the time to go out, but I just want to relax at home and sew.”
As the hands of the clock reach two on this particular day, the mothers return to the church one by one or in groups to pick up their youngsters. The woman in jeans with the white paint spattered on one cheek says with relief, “Well, the fence is painted.” A couple comes back hand-in-hand after their leisurely lunch; the woman who needed a nap greets her baby with clear eyes and a smile, and the one in curlers has combed her hair and is dressed in a fresh outfit.
The success of the program is mirrored in their faces and those of their children. Our day care center is what we hoped it would be, a blessing to families. For that, we are thankful.
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