We must have been a spectacle to behold. Everywhere we went, someone made a comment about my children, or should I say the amount of them. None were particularly original or creative; “My you have your hands full!” Or the ever popular, “Don’t you know what causes that?”

I seldom took all nine with me. By the time the last child was born, the oldest was 19, with one foot out the door. The last thing he wanted to do was grocery shop with his mother and a bunch of little sisters.

I noticed the comments began to heat up with the birth of our fourth child. Of course at that point, they all had to go with me. I soon became known as “the lady with all the kids.” After the fifth child arrived I must have looked like a mother duck waddling along, pulling a string of ducklings behind her.

I never realized what an impact those comments were having on my children. Until one day my oldest daughter asked, “Mom, is there something wrong with us?”

“No. Why do you ask?”

“Because people always say things.” She then began to repeat the refrain of comments she heard so often.

Right then and there I realized that people were either going to say good things about my children or bad. Right or wrong, it didn’t matter; we were noticed and I was watched. It became very apparent that what they said had a serious effect on how my children viewed themselves and our family.

Two things became vitally important to me. First, that the children always looked clean and well dressed. If you pull one child in from playing outside and dash to the local store, no one notices. But pull in five or six; and you’re driving a herd of grubby rug-rats.

The same goes for behavior. One child that misbehaves is often overlooked. Multiply by any number and you have an ugly mess.

I began by sitting my children down and explaining to them why people made so many comments. That most families were much smaller than ours, and we stood out. People talk, especially in small towns; but what they said would be up to us.

These were the days before e-bay and outlet malls. If you wanted your children to be dressed in name-brand clothes that was out of your income bracket, (or needed to outfit a small army) rummage sales were the only way to go.

I mastered the art of garage saleing. I also learned to sew. I made matching sun dresses with hair ribbons. My favorite rummage sale find was short bibs for the girls. There are few things cuter than a toddler in short bibs, ribbons and pigtails. Added bonus, for those still learning to dress themselves, yet were masters of undressing (when mom’s not looking) a good set of short bibs are the closest thing to sewing the clothes on.

The children learned to hold each other’s hands when walking from the car to the store. Once inside the store they were required to stay within my arm’s reach at all times. Those who could not be trusted held on to the cart.

Never were they allowed to ask for anything. No exceptions. When treats are begged for and received they are not nearly as sweet or appreciated, as when they’re received completely unexpected. It makes a shopping trip pleasant for everyone-even mom.

We noticed a difference. We still got comments; but they changed drastically. “What a beautiful family you have!” and “You have such well behaved children!” Comments that made my children smile, and proud to be part of our family.

Experts tell us that child predators look for children that are unkept, in need of a hair cut, with clothes not fitting properly or a dirty face. The time spent teaching the children to behave, braiding hair and putting up pony-tails, is a small price to pay with big dividends.

When children are taught to behave, their inner beauty is free to shine. Even a diamond needs the right amount of pressure and polish to become the treasure God intended.

Obedient, happy children are a delightful sight to behold.