All Things Bright and Beautiful

One of our chapter books right now is that great classic, Black Beauty. If you haven't read it, it's the story of a horse (of course), told from the horse's point of view.

As we read it, there are parts that I am tempted to skip, just to spare my little one from hearing anything horrific; throughout the book there are descriptions of the maltreatment of animals. And, yes, I can tell that hearing these descriptions makes her sad.

But I'm also intrigued to see her 5-year-old heart growing as we read this together, her compassion being molded and shaped.  And I mean compassion that you can see blazing out of her black eyes (if I may be so dramatic). She has told me, "When I grow up, I'm going to have a horse. It will have no bit, and I'm only going to use a cloth saddle and reins."

I think the author's endeavor to strike a chord of compassion in the reader is certainly resonating in Georgie.  She's determined never "to treat animals that way" and "always to treat her horses very well."

I believe that every time I read Georgie a book, she retains not only the information, but the deeper concepts. I fervently believe this, since she references books at all times, remembering concepts we read about as long as a year ago when she was barely 4. And, if the books are molding and shaping her little heart into what it should be, then I'm doing my job. On top of that, she's getting a biology lesson, history lesson, and literature class all in one, plus readying herself to follow long stories when she's able to read them herself.

As it is, every time I get to the end of a chapter, all I hear is the demand "More!"  And I usually give in.

Great Books for Little Girls

Georgie is madly addicted to chapter books. Yes, we read regular kids books every day, but she's so into the classics, and she loves moving from one chapter to the next of a long, ongoing story.

Right now, we're reading The Secret Garden, a great choice for February when spring is just beginning to poke through the brown of winter.  But that's the fourth classic we've started this week. Yes, fourth.

I'd like to share a short list of some of our latest favorites:

• A Little Princess by Frances Hogsden Burnett: The entire family got into this story. David asked me to only read it at night when he could be home. It deals with grief in a very real way,  and the heroine learns to be an awesomely strong person through her grief and ill treatment.  Like the Apostle Paul, she learns to abase and to abound: that is, when she is rich, she is kind and generous; when she is poor and all is taken from her, she is still kind and generous, but ends up growing an even stronger spirit. A great lesson in how to deal with sudden change, and how to stand strong in the face of enemies and adversity.
• Understood Betsy by Dorothy Canfield Fisher: I had never heard of this book before, but it's one of my absolute favorites. It's another story of a little girl taken out of her element into a situation she can't control, but in this case a sickly city child learns to think for herself and becomes healthy in the Vermont countryside.  It's not a dumbed-down story at all. No, the situations are very realistic, but also very entertaining. I particularly liked the scene in the one-room schoolhouse.  Betsy has only had experience in a public school setting, so she is floored when the teacher puts her in seventh-grade reading, second-grade arithmetic, and third-grade spelling. I was shouting "Amen!"  That's exactly the kind of school I want to provide for my girls!
• All-of-a-Kind Family by Sydney Taylor: Another book I'd never heard of, but Georgie had her little giggle box turned over several times during this account of a Jewish family of 5 young girls in 1912 New York City. We learned about the Sabbath, Passover, Purim, and Succos, as well as the ups and downs of sibling love and rivalry. 

So, there's the Oak Knoll Review of Books for this week. I think that, for obvious reasons, Georgie especially likes stories about little girls, and these are three very good ones. The Secret Garden has also been great so far, but is much denser than the aforementioned books, plus I've been forced to try my hand a Yorkshire accent!

The Way They Should Go

I love the different personalities between my children.

Georgie just came in to show me a bow an arrow she'd fashioned. The bow was a toy violin bow. The arrow was a toy broom handle attached to a toy mouthpiece (to a toy wind instrument).

Lily, on the other hand, is at the table "reading" Magic Tree House to a family of Legos.

You see, if you give my girls any select items, Lily will make a family out of them, and Georgie will begin assembling them into some kind of invention.  I adore watching the differences in how their little minds work.

And that's what my job is--to figure out their personalities, learning styles, interests, and passions, and train them in the way they should go.  Listen to their plays. Watch their puppet shows. Help them with the masks, costumes, and sets that go with the plays and, yes, pretend battles (to which I've just now been invited). 

Yes, my job is to fill them with information through books, etc, but also to stand back and let them grow into what they're supposed to be. I didn't teach Lily to make a baby doll out of everything from a banana peel to a rolling pin; she does it because that's what Lily does. I certainly didn't teach Georgie to make that bow and arrow or any of her dozens (or hundreds) of other inventions that she's crafted since she could crawl.

But, what touches me the most is that, even though it helps to have construction paper, blocks, and various other toys at hand, I know that these little ladies would follow in these bends if we lived in a one-room shack with no electricity.

The point is--they're free. Free to be who they are without conforming to any standards other than those set by God, us, and themselves.  And when they are old, let's just see what kind of lives they'll have to look back on.

Quothe the Georgie

Yesterday, right after my girls got up, I offered to read "The Raven" by Edgar Allen Poe. Yes, this is a bit wordy for my 2-year-old, but Georgie (5) has loved it for years and understands what it's about.

So, as I began to read, Georgie "perched upon the bust of Pallas," which was the iron bedstead, and proceeded to play the part of the Raven. It was her job to provide the same line, as needed--"Nevermore."

And so she did, through the entire poem. I remember not understanding this poem in high school, and she gets it at 5. Maybe it's because of our discussions of it, but also because we act it out. I can "Quaff!" with the best of them, and am anticipating notice of a Tony Award nomination soon.