Day Twenty-Three: My Dear Wormwood

This was a week of letters for the older and the younger children. Learning about formal letter writing in an era of casual, slang, and poor grammatical communication is essential, in my opinion. Our Pastor was the recipient of two, and there was the other one penned for a friend, but it was the one written to a fictitious character that gave my husband and I that sense of satisfaction and pleasure that settles in between our mutual expressions when a child seems to "get it". We listened intently as Meg read her assignment that was designated by her Sonlight English course. She had just finished reading, The Screwtape Letters, by C.S. Lewis, in which Screwtape, a lead demon, writes letters of advice to his junior, Wormwood, on how to secure the soul of his human "patient". Meg's homework comprised of writing from the perspective of the archangel Michael to a subordinate angel concerning the lifestyle of their "patient" and how to draw him to God. Meg's eloquence in using Lewis' style of language, along with her understanding of how to assist the secondary angel through doctrine of Scripture was impressive. The discussion that resulted demonstrated the wisdom and awareness she had gained about spiritual warfare, not to mention, an obvious growth in writing. Praise God!

And, of course, a trip to the woods was in order :)

 

Savannah Sparrow

 

 Night Heron. We were thrilled to see it! Stickers on that page in the bird books for three of them!

 Singing House Wren

 

Kingbird taking a rest.

Frogs and Toads And All Things Spring

Frogs and Toads... isn't that what little girls are made of? Or is it boys? Slimy, bumpy and squishy qualify as desirable playthings in our family. That means frogs and toads are right up there with silly putty and mud pies. Last week we visited the frog exhibit at the Royal Botanical Gardens with some good friends, after studying metamorphosis and amphibians.

Oliver's project

We topped the day off by strolling along one of our favourite woodsy trails to feed the birds. While we eagerly await the warblers from the south, we care for our winter birds who flit from one chubby little hand to another, pecking at the seeds in the palms of older ones who teach that the tickle of the tiny bird claws is a good thing.

 

 

 

God said, "As long as the earth endures, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night will never cease." Genesis 8:22. He has kept His promise again. Spring has returned and we are delighted!

Disruptive

 

Kids crunch and slide and skiff on snow,

Scream and squawk and slip below

Escarpment's crust.

 

I listen for the blue jay's cry,

Woodpecker's scarlet I squint to spy,

But they unconsciously disrupt.

 

I raise my specs toward limb and branch,

"Caw" and powdery dust, evidence,

But it's gone with a squeal from behind.

 

I spin around, retreat in loss.

Forthcoming days birds and I will cross 

Quiet paths, when children mind.

 

Disappointed in my lack of treasure,

But by what standard had I measured

That which brings delight?

 

With laughter and breathless wonder

Children clomp heavy to their mother,

Who embraces richest prize!

 

By: Heather Vanderkruk

 

I don't know what I'm thinking when I take those kiddos birding with me. What I do know is that at the end of every noisy, frustrating, bird-less hike, I learn what my real prize is... them :)