When a child is born, all concerns goes to the mother. The mother has suffered so greatly. But has not the child suffered too? The mother needs special care. But does not the child, too, need special care? The mother's room is darkened and silent, for she is worn out. But the child who has just come from a place where not the faintest ray of light, or the faintest sound, could reach him. It is for him, then, that darkness and silence should be prepared. The child has come from absolute rest, and has now, all at once, to exercise his functions. He, therefore, must be tired and exhausted. His exhaustion does not come only from the contrast between opposite environments; He has just endured the exhausting labour of birth by his own efforts. His body was comprassed, as though in a mill, that squeezed it to the point of displacing its bones. He arrives worn out by the immense contrast between absolute rest and the inconceivable effort of birth. (Montessori, 1...