"Is that someone knocking at the door?" I said Friday afternoon as I detected a slight sound outside. Howard went out, and soon I heard him talking to someone. I looked out and was surprised to see a minister friend we hadn't seen in ages. He had brought us some produce from their garden! It was sitting just inside the door on our screened porch where he had placed it when he thought we were not home. I went out to join them, while our friend stood on the steps, saying he should get back to his wife in the car.
I went to say hi to her, not having seen her for a long time. "I read your book every day," the older lady said. "I keep it in the bathroom." (Someone else told me that, too!) I told her I had three more books now, and asked her husband to wait a minute. They were so nice to bring us those beautiful tomatoes and fresh green beans that I got copies of the other three books and gave them to her. She seemed so thrilled.
We sliced into a tomato as soon as they left. Talk about delicious! We ate two then and two for supper, relishing their sunshine-fresh flavor. I can't wait to cook the green beans! I would have had them last night, but we were invited for a pizza/game night at the home of our granddaughter. Pizza is not normally our cup of tea, but who could refuse an invitation like that?
Family games of Taboo, Uno, and Scrabble followed (I brought my king-size edition), interspersed by the passing of soft drinks and fresh-baked brownies. Our granddaughter and her room mate cousin were hosting their first event since moving into the house recently.
We got to see everyone again at church this morning. It was a blessed service with our son, Greg, helping lead the music. My eyes welled up in praise and gratitude at hearing the level of his skill and talent, all used for the Lord. Later, I remarked to his father that all four of our sons could get together and hold a revival! Two of them are preachers, and all are musicians and/or on worship teams! One of our daughters is a preacher's wife, and the other one sings beautifully!
We may not be much as gardeners, but with the Lord's help we did raise a good crop of kids!
Sunday, August 25, 2013
Saturday, August 24, 2013
Growing in God
When my son found his four-year-old daughter watching a kids' cartoon he discourages because he considers it too old for her, Maddie said, "I tried not to look." Reading this on his Facebook post, I had to smile at her sweet innocence. She is obviously developing a conscience.
Visiting at their house last week, I heard her say a couple of times of some small mishap, "That was my fault." Wow! What a serious little girl, I thought. I mentioned this to Jamie, and he said, "Yeah, she and Anne-Marie are all about 'fault.' They're constantly arguing to each other, 'That was your fault!'"
The other night at Bible study, we were discussing Hebrews 13:7:"Remember them which have the rule over you, who have spoken unto you the word of God: whose faith follow, considering the end of their conversation." One person said sometimes leaders can be legalistic in their beliefs, teaching against certain styles of dress, etc. The pastor asked for reasons why this might be, and I said one reason might be the wrong interpretation of scripture.
For instance, our grandchildren had a high school pastor who said he wasn't allowed to play marbles as a child. His parents told him Jesus said, "Marble (marvel) not (that I said unto you...etc.") Cheryl Prewitt, one-time Miss America, said that as children they were not allowed to play with dolls, because her grandpa said "doll" came from the word, "idol." Perhaps, but it is innate that little girls like to play with dolls.
In thinking of the rules that come with legalism, I thought of something I heard on a teaching tape of a speaker at Jamie's church who was referencing Matthew 22:36, "Master, which is the great commandment in the law?" The Pharisees had over 600 laws, and they believed they were all equally important, so this was a trick question for Jesus. He answered that the greatest was to "Love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, with all thy soul, and with all thy mind."
Then, by putting "Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself," in second place, He showed that some commandments were more important than others and silenced his questioners. Then he said, "On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets," inferring that by keeping these two commands, which summarize the Ten Commandments and other Old Testament moral laws, a person would naturally fulfill all the commands.
Thankfully, we don't have to keep a bunch of rules! Sorting out the Bible meanings can be confusing for adults, let alone children, evidenced by this conversation Jamie related the other day. Anne-Marie, 6, was reading her Children's Bible, and her dad remarked that Jesus and his family were Jews. Anne-Marie said, "We are Jews," to which he said, "No, we are Gentiles." His little daughter replied, "We are reptiles, too!" "No," he responded, "We are mammals!" We all have a lot to learn!
Visiting at their house last week, I heard her say a couple of times of some small mishap, "That was my fault." Wow! What a serious little girl, I thought. I mentioned this to Jamie, and he said, "Yeah, she and Anne-Marie are all about 'fault.' They're constantly arguing to each other, 'That was your fault!'"
The other night at Bible study, we were discussing Hebrews 13:7:"Remember them which have the rule over you, who have spoken unto you the word of God: whose faith follow, considering the end of their conversation." One person said sometimes leaders can be legalistic in their beliefs, teaching against certain styles of dress, etc. The pastor asked for reasons why this might be, and I said one reason might be the wrong interpretation of scripture.
For instance, our grandchildren had a high school pastor who said he wasn't allowed to play marbles as a child. His parents told him Jesus said, "Marble (marvel) not (that I said unto you...etc.") Cheryl Prewitt, one-time Miss America, said that as children they were not allowed to play with dolls, because her grandpa said "doll" came from the word, "idol." Perhaps, but it is innate that little girls like to play with dolls.
In thinking of the rules that come with legalism, I thought of something I heard on a teaching tape of a speaker at Jamie's church who was referencing Matthew 22:36, "Master, which is the great commandment in the law?" The Pharisees had over 600 laws, and they believed they were all equally important, so this was a trick question for Jesus. He answered that the greatest was to "Love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, with all thy soul, and with all thy mind."
Then, by putting "Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself," in second place, He showed that some commandments were more important than others and silenced his questioners. Then he said, "On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets," inferring that by keeping these two commands, which summarize the Ten Commandments and other Old Testament moral laws, a person would naturally fulfill all the commands.
Thankfully, we don't have to keep a bunch of rules! Sorting out the Bible meanings can be confusing for adults, let alone children, evidenced by this conversation Jamie related the other day. Anne-Marie, 6, was reading her Children's Bible, and her dad remarked that Jesus and his family were Jews. Anne-Marie said, "We are Jews," to which he said, "No, we are Gentiles." His little daughter replied, "We are reptiles, too!" "No," he responded, "We are mammals!" We all have a lot to learn!
Wednesday, August 21, 2013
In the Moment
Making a peach cobbler yesterday, I couldn't help but fondly reminisce about doing the same thing on our vacation in Texas last week. My little granddaughters, Maddie, 4, and Anne-Marie, 6, were helping me, Maddie handing me one by one the gorgeous peaches to be peeled. When they were all sliced and sweetened and put into the baking pan, I showed them how to make a lattice topping.
They watched intently as I cut the rolled-out pie crust into strips, curious about the whole process. "Over and under," I instructed, guiding little fingers that grasped the pastry strips. "In and out," I murmured, as they patiently took turns alternating the rows until a work of art gradually emerged in front of them. A little crooked, maybe, but still a work of art!
We had bought so many of the lovely peaches when we were at Sam's Club with our son Jamie that I was afraid the huge cobbler would not be eaten, but it was so delicious the pan was empty by the time we went home a few days later.
Spending time with the girls in little unguarded moments like these provided insights into their personalities and made us realize how much they had expanded in their minds and ideas since we saw them several months ago. One day we went to a children's museum with them, and thankfully, their father was along, because we couldn't have kept up with them. Climbing on towers and racing to this or that activity, they were powerhouses of energy!
In one exhibit there was a lesson on the development of a chicken. A chart with illustrations of the chick's growth from egg to hatching was on the wall, and several eggs were lying under a plastic dome on a table. Maddie was looking at them when a boy of about eight came up and proclaimed, "Those are not real eggs!" to which Maddie responded, "Yes, they are real!"
This went on for several minutes. The boy with the jet-black hair spoke very articulately and knowledgeably with a bit of a foreign accent as he maintained, "They are made out of a special material that just makes them look real!" Maddie held her ground, arguing that they were indeed real. About that time, a staff member walked up and said some had hatched recently, and these were about to hatch! I was proud of my granddaughter!
These memories warm my heart even as the baking cobbler had warmed my kitchen after I got home.
They watched intently as I cut the rolled-out pie crust into strips, curious about the whole process. "Over and under," I instructed, guiding little fingers that grasped the pastry strips. "In and out," I murmured, as they patiently took turns alternating the rows until a work of art gradually emerged in front of them. A little crooked, maybe, but still a work of art!
We had bought so many of the lovely peaches when we were at Sam's Club with our son Jamie that I was afraid the huge cobbler would not be eaten, but it was so delicious the pan was empty by the time we went home a few days later.
Spending time with the girls in little unguarded moments like these provided insights into their personalities and made us realize how much they had expanded in their minds and ideas since we saw them several months ago. One day we went to a children's museum with them, and thankfully, their father was along, because we couldn't have kept up with them. Climbing on towers and racing to this or that activity, they were powerhouses of energy!
In one exhibit there was a lesson on the development of a chicken. A chart with illustrations of the chick's growth from egg to hatching was on the wall, and several eggs were lying under a plastic dome on a table. Maddie was looking at them when a boy of about eight came up and proclaimed, "Those are not real eggs!" to which Maddie responded, "Yes, they are real!"
This went on for several minutes. The boy with the jet-black hair spoke very articulately and knowledgeably with a bit of a foreign accent as he maintained, "They are made out of a special material that just makes them look real!" Maddie held her ground, arguing that they were indeed real. About that time, a staff member walked up and said some had hatched recently, and these were about to hatch! I was proud of my granddaughter!
These memories warm my heart even as the baking cobbler had warmed my kitchen after I got home.
Tuesday, August 20, 2013
Brotherhood of the Traveling Parents
"Mom, I will drive you to Norman to the train station," our son Greg announced. Wow! Really? What a big help! We had decided to take the Heartland Flyer to visit our sons in Texas, but we would have to board in Oklahoma City or Norman, which we preferred. "But I will have to take you the night before," Greg continued. That was alright, we could get a hotel and get a taxi to take us to the station early the next morning.
All went well, with our having time that evening to have a nice supper with Greg and grandson Adam before they drove the 80 miles home. The next day found us comfortably ensconced on the train and enjoying the view of the rocks and rills of Oklahoma. We were to have a two-hour wait at Ft. Worth before taking our connecting train to Austin, our destination. Our train was running an hour late, and the Austin train hadn't arrived, although it was imminent. We stood on the platform with others waiting in the sweltering temperatures for 45 minutes, reluctant to risk missing it by going inside. The accommodations of lounge car, observation car, and dining car
on the Texas Eagle were well worth the wait, though.
Arrangements had been made for us to meet son Jamie and his family at older son Mark's house in Austin, then return with them to their house in Houston the next day. I called Mark to give him a heads up that we were almost there. "The conductor said in eight minutes we'll be in Taylor, and in Austin in 55 minutes," I told him.
A few minutes later the phone rang, and Mark said, "Did you say Taylor? That's just 15 minutes from our house! Get off at Taylor!" I jerked Howard from his conversation with the old preacher he had joined in the seat ahead of us. We grabbed our carry-ons, hastily retrieved our luggage and made our exit just as the train screeched to a halt at a whistle stop in the small town.
"Is Jamie here yet?" I asked Mark after he had loaded our luggage. He said Jamie's family was waiting for us at a restaurant where we would all have dinner, the best barbecue place in town. Well, it was good, and novel to eat off a sheet of butcher paper piled with creamed corn, baked beans and brisket. The next day our fare was at a famed taco place. This was Texas, after all!
A wonderful week of playing with the little granddaughters, tagging along at the great food stores (including Sam's), eating everything from Mexican, to French, to seafood, followed. Not only that, we went to church three times (once to hear Jamie preach to Chinese youth), visited the Children's Museum with the kids and last, but not least, had a great time at Kemah, a lovely resort town with boardwalks, exciting rides and waterfront views. I felt like I was seeing the great catch of fish from the Bible when a solid mass of hundreds of catfish swarmed at one of the many 25-cent fish-food vending locations on the fenced walkway, their hungry mouths gaping and their bodies thrashing in the swirling waters below us.
The week ended with Jamie taking us back to Mark's house to catch our train for home. First, though, we had an incredible evening with Mark and Rhonda at the Oasis restaurant on Lake Travis. We had been there over twenty years before, but the original building had since been destroyed by fire, and an imposing, castle-like structure of native stone had replaced it. Strolling through the winding brick plaza surrounded by soft lights and the music from a live band somewhere made me feel transported to Italy. The meal, the view, the fellowship and the weather combined for a memorable finale of our visit.
One more treat awaited us, though, as our son Trevor met our train for a 3-hour layover in Ft. Worth. Our sweet red-head took us to eat at Sweet Tomatoes, an all-you-can-eat trendy restaurant specializing in a make-your-own-salad bar, soup and bread selections, and home baked cakes and muffins, which we relished over an hour of visiting, laughing and catching up. After driving us through attractions like the Botanical Gardens and Ft. Worth's Sundance Square, Trevor waved goodbye and we boarded the train for the last leg of our journey, where our faithful son Greg was waiting at Norman to take us home.
Wow! Being with all four sons on this trip was amazing! As the Bible says in Psalm 127:3-5, "Lo, children are an heritage of the Lord...As arrows in the hand of a mighty man; so are the children of the youth. Happy is the man that has his quiver full of them." Including our two daughters, that is a full quiver!
All went well, with our having time that evening to have a nice supper with Greg and grandson Adam before they drove the 80 miles home. The next day found us comfortably ensconced on the train and enjoying the view of the rocks and rills of Oklahoma. We were to have a two-hour wait at Ft. Worth before taking our connecting train to Austin, our destination. Our train was running an hour late, and the Austin train hadn't arrived, although it was imminent. We stood on the platform with others waiting in the sweltering temperatures for 45 minutes, reluctant to risk missing it by going inside. The accommodations of lounge car, observation car, and dining car
on the Texas Eagle were well worth the wait, though.
Arrangements had been made for us to meet son Jamie and his family at older son Mark's house in Austin, then return with them to their house in Houston the next day. I called Mark to give him a heads up that we were almost there. "The conductor said in eight minutes we'll be in Taylor, and in Austin in 55 minutes," I told him.
A few minutes later the phone rang, and Mark said, "Did you say Taylor? That's just 15 minutes from our house! Get off at Taylor!" I jerked Howard from his conversation with the old preacher he had joined in the seat ahead of us. We grabbed our carry-ons, hastily retrieved our luggage and made our exit just as the train screeched to a halt at a whistle stop in the small town.
"Is Jamie here yet?" I asked Mark after he had loaded our luggage. He said Jamie's family was waiting for us at a restaurant where we would all have dinner, the best barbecue place in town. Well, it was good, and novel to eat off a sheet of butcher paper piled with creamed corn, baked beans and brisket. The next day our fare was at a famed taco place. This was Texas, after all!
A wonderful week of playing with the little granddaughters, tagging along at the great food stores (including Sam's), eating everything from Mexican, to French, to seafood, followed. Not only that, we went to church three times (once to hear Jamie preach to Chinese youth), visited the Children's Museum with the kids and last, but not least, had a great time at Kemah, a lovely resort town with boardwalks, exciting rides and waterfront views. I felt like I was seeing the great catch of fish from the Bible when a solid mass of hundreds of catfish swarmed at one of the many 25-cent fish-food vending locations on the fenced walkway, their hungry mouths gaping and their bodies thrashing in the swirling waters below us.
The week ended with Jamie taking us back to Mark's house to catch our train for home. First, though, we had an incredible evening with Mark and Rhonda at the Oasis restaurant on Lake Travis. We had been there over twenty years before, but the original building had since been destroyed by fire, and an imposing, castle-like structure of native stone had replaced it. Strolling through the winding brick plaza surrounded by soft lights and the music from a live band somewhere made me feel transported to Italy. The meal, the view, the fellowship and the weather combined for a memorable finale of our visit.
One more treat awaited us, though, as our son Trevor met our train for a 3-hour layover in Ft. Worth. Our sweet red-head took us to eat at Sweet Tomatoes, an all-you-can-eat trendy restaurant specializing in a make-your-own-salad bar, soup and bread selections, and home baked cakes and muffins, which we relished over an hour of visiting, laughing and catching up. After driving us through attractions like the Botanical Gardens and Ft. Worth's Sundance Square, Trevor waved goodbye and we boarded the train for the last leg of our journey, where our faithful son Greg was waiting at Norman to take us home.
Wow! Being with all four sons on this trip was amazing! As the Bible says in Psalm 127:3-5, "Lo, children are an heritage of the Lord...As arrows in the hand of a mighty man; so are the children of the youth. Happy is the man that has his quiver full of them." Including our two daughters, that is a full quiver!
Monday, August 19, 2013
This Ole House
"Are the kids sad when you go over to your old house?" I asked my son Jamie. He had said he took Maddie and Anne-Marie with him when he goes over to do touch-up and minor repairs in readying the house for sale.
"No, they don't say anything," he replied. "They like our new house."
I admitted that it made me sad when I thought of the nursery left behind that he had painted with wall murals of gamboling lambs being led by the Good Shepherd with hand-lettered verses of the 23rd Psalm bordering the ceiling.
But when I reflected on our conversation, I could understand why the children were unaffected. Without the throbbing, pulsing life of their family living in it, the house was just an empty shell, just as the body of a departed one is merely the shell that contained the soul and spirit of the one living there.
A few days later, our son Mark and his wife Rhonda took us for a wonderful evening of sightseeing and dining at the Oasis, a restaurant built clinging to the side of a mountain where we ate on one of the balconies with a view of Lake Travis below. The umbrellas positioned over the tables in bright, Mexican colors shielded diners from the western sun. But when it dropped low on the horizon, waiters collapsed our shade for an unimpeded view of Old Sol sliding into a mountain valley and sinking as if into the lake.
It was the fete accompli of the day, drawing applause and even a "Yay, God!" once. It was riveting to visually detect the sun moving by degrees until the last curve of the orange orb was blotted out by the infinitesimal turning of the earth.
The gorgeous sunset, which drew camera-laden guests into a clump on a landing for an attempt at winning a photographic prize (the best sunset shot was exhibited in a showroom inside), was beginning to lose its fire. When I next looked, the sky was a colorless grey, streaked with strata of dark clouds. The light had gone out, like the color draining from a face when the light of the soul is gone.
The Bible calls our body a tabernacle, or a tent, a temporary dwelling. "For we know that if our earthly house of this tabernacle were dissolved, we have a building of God, and house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens," II Corinthians 5:1. Verse 6 says, "...whilst we are at home in the body, we are absent from the Lord." And verse 8, "...we are...willing rather to be absent from the body, and to be present with the Lord." We will never have to move from that house!
"No, they don't say anything," he replied. "They like our new house."
I admitted that it made me sad when I thought of the nursery left behind that he had painted with wall murals of gamboling lambs being led by the Good Shepherd with hand-lettered verses of the 23rd Psalm bordering the ceiling.
But when I reflected on our conversation, I could understand why the children were unaffected. Without the throbbing, pulsing life of their family living in it, the house was just an empty shell, just as the body of a departed one is merely the shell that contained the soul and spirit of the one living there.
A few days later, our son Mark and his wife Rhonda took us for a wonderful evening of sightseeing and dining at the Oasis, a restaurant built clinging to the side of a mountain where we ate on one of the balconies with a view of Lake Travis below. The umbrellas positioned over the tables in bright, Mexican colors shielded diners from the western sun. But when it dropped low on the horizon, waiters collapsed our shade for an unimpeded view of Old Sol sliding into a mountain valley and sinking as if into the lake.
It was the fete accompli of the day, drawing applause and even a "Yay, God!" once. It was riveting to visually detect the sun moving by degrees until the last curve of the orange orb was blotted out by the infinitesimal turning of the earth.
The gorgeous sunset, which drew camera-laden guests into a clump on a landing for an attempt at winning a photographic prize (the best sunset shot was exhibited in a showroom inside), was beginning to lose its fire. When I next looked, the sky was a colorless grey, streaked with strata of dark clouds. The light had gone out, like the color draining from a face when the light of the soul is gone.
The Bible calls our body a tabernacle, or a tent, a temporary dwelling. "For we know that if our earthly house of this tabernacle were dissolved, we have a building of God, and house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens," II Corinthians 5:1. Verse 6 says, "...whilst we are at home in the body, we are absent from the Lord." And verse 8, "...we are...willing rather to be absent from the body, and to be present with the Lord." We will never have to move from that house!
Thursday, August 15, 2013
A Little Child Shall Lead Them
Following the song service at our son's family's church we were visiting, the minister said, "I will speak for a short time, then we are having the children from Kids' Church come down for something special." He went on to explain that they have been being taught on hearing from God and ministering in prayer.
I had heard from our son about the unusual way many in the church had employed something called a treasure hunt in prayer direction. It seems that during prayer in which they have asked God for some kind of clue as to whom they should pray for, images may come to mind of random things, such as a color, an article of clothing, a brand name, or any other impression that they feel is from God. The children had been introduced to this, too, and were prepared to pray for the adults that night, guided by the notes they had taken from clues they had received in prayer.
The minister told of a time his own young sons had ministered in this way, having been impressed by the words, "Fanta Orange." They had gone to a supermarket and hoped to see someone with an orange cap or shirt, indicating their prayer subject. Alas, they couldn't spot anyone who seemed to fit their prayer clue. Finally, they went to the soft drink aisle where they approached a man, asking if they could pray for him. He warmed to the children, being humbly appreciative of them, and shared some family problems he was having. After prayer, they bid him good-bye, and as they looked back, he was reaching for a Fanta Orange drink!
Twelve or fifteen children traipsed into the sanctuary last night following their service upstairs. "If this weren't the last night Anne-Marie has to be in the nursery, she would be here, too!" I whispered to my husband about our granddaughter. Just then I caught a glimpse of a little blonde, flitting like a light among the group! Anne-Marie, our little pray-er!
Dividing into small teams and armed with their treasure clues, the children had no trouble finding prayer needs matching their criteria. It was all very touching as the earnest children called out to God and trustingly believed for answered prayer. Although we were not selected for prayer, on the way out of the auditorium my husband and I asked a group of kids to pray for us. The Lord's presence was very real as they prayed! I definitely felt a touch from God!
Today our granddaughter is glowing in triumph as a loose tooth she has nursed for days gave way to her sudden resolve to do the deed! She now has a cute, gap-toothed smile, a minor milestone of childhood maturity and courage, sure to serve her well in the days ahead in a life lived for the Lord.
I had heard from our son about the unusual way many in the church had employed something called a treasure hunt in prayer direction. It seems that during prayer in which they have asked God for some kind of clue as to whom they should pray for, images may come to mind of random things, such as a color, an article of clothing, a brand name, or any other impression that they feel is from God. The children had been introduced to this, too, and were prepared to pray for the adults that night, guided by the notes they had taken from clues they had received in prayer.
The minister told of a time his own young sons had ministered in this way, having been impressed by the words, "Fanta Orange." They had gone to a supermarket and hoped to see someone with an orange cap or shirt, indicating their prayer subject. Alas, they couldn't spot anyone who seemed to fit their prayer clue. Finally, they went to the soft drink aisle where they approached a man, asking if they could pray for him. He warmed to the children, being humbly appreciative of them, and shared some family problems he was having. After prayer, they bid him good-bye, and as they looked back, he was reaching for a Fanta Orange drink!
Twelve or fifteen children traipsed into the sanctuary last night following their service upstairs. "If this weren't the last night Anne-Marie has to be in the nursery, she would be here, too!" I whispered to my husband about our granddaughter. Just then I caught a glimpse of a little blonde, flitting like a light among the group! Anne-Marie, our little pray-er!
Dividing into small teams and armed with their treasure clues, the children had no trouble finding prayer needs matching their criteria. It was all very touching as the earnest children called out to God and trustingly believed for answered prayer. Although we were not selected for prayer, on the way out of the auditorium my husband and I asked a group of kids to pray for us. The Lord's presence was very real as they prayed! I definitely felt a touch from God!
Today our granddaughter is glowing in triumph as a loose tooth she has nursed for days gave way to her sudden resolve to do the deed! She now has a cute, gap-toothed smile, a minor milestone of childhood maturity and courage, sure to serve her well in the days ahead in a life lived for the Lord.
Wednesday, August 14, 2013
Children's Children
I looked up from my nap to see 4-year-old Maddie tentatively touching her Pa Pa's arm while he was asleep in his chair. She was wearing my glasses halfway down her nose like she has seen him wear his.
We are definitely bonding during this week of our visit! At lunch Maddie declared to us with a bounce of her red curls, "I think you should move here." That was after Pa Pa had teased that he was taking her and her 6-year-old sister Anne-Marie home with us. She went to ask her daddy if she could go, and came back with the proclamation: "I have good news and bad news!"
Then dramatically she said, "The bad news is that he said I couldn't go, but the good news is that I might go next time!" Not having seen these grandchildren in almost five months, we are amazed and delighted at the knowledge and wit that pops out of them like berries on the popcorn trees we had in Mississippi!
Today in the car Maddie was amusing herself by singing an off-key version of "Mary Had a Little Lamb." I sang along finishing with the phrase "Its fleece was white as snow." "The hair or fur of a sheep is called 'fleece,'" I explained, to which she replied, "No, their fur is called 'wool!'" Duh!
We were pleasantly surprised to find that our visit co-incided with a graduation ceremony for Anne-Marie on Sunday as she moved from the church's nursery department to Kids' Church. The small-fry were gowned in royal blue graduation robes with requisite mortar boards balanced precariously on their bobbing heads. They were formally recognized by the congregation, and to our delight, Anne-Marie was chosen to pray before they took their seats. Her little-girl voice rang clear and strong over the large audience in her brief, but articulate prayer. Be still, my heart!
Each graduate was presented with a Beginner's Bible, and I asked my granddaughter to read a portion to me when we got home. I was amazed! She read with expression and proper inflection, not tripping over words like "Israelites," "support," "battle," or heroes' names, as the sentences slid smoothly from her tongue.
Well, she is home-schooled, and church is a large part of her life. What can I expect?
We are definitely bonding during this week of our visit! At lunch Maddie declared to us with a bounce of her red curls, "I think you should move here." That was after Pa Pa had teased that he was taking her and her 6-year-old sister Anne-Marie home with us. She went to ask her daddy if she could go, and came back with the proclamation: "I have good news and bad news!"
Then dramatically she said, "The bad news is that he said I couldn't go, but the good news is that I might go next time!" Not having seen these grandchildren in almost five months, we are amazed and delighted at the knowledge and wit that pops out of them like berries on the popcorn trees we had in Mississippi!
Today in the car Maddie was amusing herself by singing an off-key version of "Mary Had a Little Lamb." I sang along finishing with the phrase "Its fleece was white as snow." "The hair or fur of a sheep is called 'fleece,'" I explained, to which she replied, "No, their fur is called 'wool!'" Duh!
We were pleasantly surprised to find that our visit co-incided with a graduation ceremony for Anne-Marie on Sunday as she moved from the church's nursery department to Kids' Church. The small-fry were gowned in royal blue graduation robes with requisite mortar boards balanced precariously on their bobbing heads. They were formally recognized by the congregation, and to our delight, Anne-Marie was chosen to pray before they took their seats. Her little-girl voice rang clear and strong over the large audience in her brief, but articulate prayer. Be still, my heart!
Each graduate was presented with a Beginner's Bible, and I asked my granddaughter to read a portion to me when we got home. I was amazed! She read with expression and proper inflection, not tripping over words like "Israelites," "support," "battle," or heroes' names, as the sentences slid smoothly from her tongue.
Well, she is home-schooled, and church is a large part of her life. What can I expect?
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