My Mother wrote this poem, modeling the famous "Night Before Christmas". It seems that our creativity came to us naturally.
Day Before Christmas 2008
It was the day before Christmas
And all thru the house
Everyone was stirring
As busy as a mouse.
Dad was in the green room
Putting up ply glass,
To keep out the cold
And warm his favorite lass.
Aaron, Adrian, and Terence
Are in front of a TV
Playing Xbox games
And giving no reprieve.
Deanna is in the kitchen
With penne, spinach, and sauce,
Cooking up supper
With mom as boss.
Sheila is busy in kitchen and pantry
Laying out sauces and spices,
Giving directions, tasting, stirring
And many onions dices.
Mikayla and Leilani,
Two angels or imps,
Depending on inclination,
Are busy here and there, lasses bonny.
Aunt Myra fumes and fusses,
Clean here, wipe there,
Rearrange, no musses
No odors anywhere.
Grandma and Josh
With cameras and pictures
People arranging
Who won’t be fixtures.
Dad and Children
Round the table gather
A good game of poker
And lot and lots of laughter.
Friends come by at eight
For coffee, pie and cake
And lots and lots of talk
About their daily walk.
Finally gifts are wrapped
And under the tree,
Stockings are filled
Everyones in bed.
Prayers are said,
Blessings given,
Rest is needed,
Before Christmas Day.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Flashback
Aaron was on the phone with me as he has been several times recently, “What do you think?” was his question. Not too weird…over the years we’ve had lots of heart to heart talks. I’m glad that he feels like I’m someone to whom he can look for Godly counsel. However, this time his question brought memories flooding back…
I remember watching him run out the door to play on the playground with his younger brothers. He was 6 and we’d just become a family. He would swing for hours on the swings and give his little shadows tips on how to make themselves go higher. This particular day I was on the couch, dead tired from the 3 days of non-stop driving we had done to get he and his brother from Illinois. I was trying to nurse Deanna, who was about 6 weeks old, and keep an eye on the boys. A few minutes after he’d run out the door, he came back in screaming bloody murder. Instantly, I was on my feet and moving toward him. He’d thrown himself down on the living room floor with crocodile tears coursing down his cheeks and his hand covering his knee “Hey, buddy!” I’d tried to stem the flow of tears. “It’s not bad. You’re a tough kid. We’ll just wash it off and you’ll be good as new.” He had to think about that for a moment, but in the end decided that he agreed with me that he was a tough kid and stopped crying. We washed it with a clean paper towel and he was on his way out the door again.
At 9, he was starring in the Christian Academy of Chula Vista Christmas Play. He sang and danced his way around the stage in a cowboy hat and boots. I was amazed by his ability to perform in front of people. Unfortunately, this only lasted till the play was over and then he really didn’t ever want to sing in front of people again.
A couple of years later, he was in 6th grade and I was home schooling him except for band, which he took at the nearby middle school. He would ride his bike down the hill from where our house overlooked the neighborhood, across the intersection, up another hill and a mile or more beyond that to the Mesa Hills Middle School. One day, a few minutes after I’d watched him ride down the hill, a car came up the hill and the driver waved me toward her car. She told me that she thought it was my son who’d just been hit by a truck at the bottom of the hill. Needless to say, even in my bare feet, I didn’t hesitate to jump into her car and let her drive me down the hill to where it had happened. It turned out that he had crossed the intersection just as the truck, which had stopped at the stop sign, was just about to turn right and happened to hit him. Other than a bent bicycle wheel and a skinned leg, he was fine --- but a little shook up. He had not made the stop like he should have but had let his momentum from the ride down the hill to shoot him through the intersection. I think I have a few gray hairs from that day.
At 13, he came home from the GNG Middle School (in Maine) one day and challenged the idea that there was a God. I must have sat with him for hours talking with him about God, His existence, His care for Aaron and my desire to see him one day in heaven. I remember it was a little bit like talking to a brick wall. That was one of the incidences that convinced me that I needed to home educate all of our children. I was down on my knees that night praying for him and asking God to reveal Himself to him.
Then he met Stephanie. She was 13 and he was 15 (I think). We went to church with her family and later her family came to live with us. During the 2 years that we lived as a community household, we had many talks with both Aaron and Stephanie about purity, true love, emotional purity, courtship, etc. He and I would talk for hours about his feelings for her sometimes. I encouraged him to keep a journal, which I think he still does.
Aaron loved Math. He flew through Algebra, Geometry and Trig. If he wasn’t reading an assigned book or doing math, he was teaching himself to play the piano or the guitar. I remember him up on the stage with Stephanie. He was playing the guitar and she was playing her violin. He even played for our worship team for a while.
I was so glad of those years he was at home during high school. I know that it may have seemed like he didn’t have all of the opportunities for sports, clubs, orchestra, etc. that he may have had in a public school; but he and I got a chance to bond in a way that we never would have otherwise. I have seen God make up for all of the opportunities that he “lost”. Through our spontaneous conversations about God and His Word and his own soul searching, Aaron has come to know the Lord in a real way. That in itself is more valuable than any extracurricular activity would ever have been.
I remember his graduation. We had a small ceremony in our home for him and I presented him with his diploma. He didn’t want it to be a big deal or anything. I don’t think he really believed that he deserved it. We all gathered around him and prayed for his future decisions and the direction of his life.
Then came the day when his Army recruiter came to pick him up from the house. Ralph and I got up at 4 a.m. to make sure that he had a good breakfast. We both took him into our arms and told him we loved him. I stood at the open door and watched him get into the recruiter’s car and drive away to boot camp. I think I cried after he left.
I was able to go to his boot camp graduation in Georgia. I took a taxi from my hotel onto the base and watched as his platoon marched to the auditorium. After the ceremony, he introduced me to his sergeant. Aaron was so proud of himself for the way that he’d made it through and told me stories about some of the boys who hadn’t while we walked all over the base. I think that he’d finally realized what I knew all along – that he was capable of being the man God wanted him to be.
Over the years that he was away, he would call and we would talk about all kinds of things. He told me his hopes, his fears, his ideas, his plans and his doubts. Looking back, I wish I’d talked to him more often.
Now, after almost 4 years in the Army, 2 of those years being in Korea, he was asking me what I thought about his plan.
“Stephanie and I want to get married this coming December and then go together to Boston so that I can go to college. Do you think it’s too soon?” he inquired.
My glassy-eyed look and hesitation in saying anything threw him for a loop. But here was my little boy talking about getting married. Wow! Time flies!! Was I ready to let go of all those years? Where had the time gone?
There were times that I didn’t spend the time I could have with him; but God helped us to make the moments count, even when it was hard. I know that he and Stephanie will be even better parents than Ralph and I have been. His next question confirmed this: “Mom, do you think that I’ll be able to provide the spiritual and emotional support that she’ll need from a husband?”
“Aaron, I know you will.”
Eph 5:15 – 17 See then that ye walk circumspectly, not as fools, but as wise,
Redeeming the time, because the days are evil. Wherefore be ye not unwise, but understanding what the will of the Lord is.
I remember watching him run out the door to play on the playground with his younger brothers. He was 6 and we’d just become a family. He would swing for hours on the swings and give his little shadows tips on how to make themselves go higher. This particular day I was on the couch, dead tired from the 3 days of non-stop driving we had done to get he and his brother from Illinois. I was trying to nurse Deanna, who was about 6 weeks old, and keep an eye on the boys. A few minutes after he’d run out the door, he came back in screaming bloody murder. Instantly, I was on my feet and moving toward him. He’d thrown himself down on the living room floor with crocodile tears coursing down his cheeks and his hand covering his knee “Hey, buddy!” I’d tried to stem the flow of tears. “It’s not bad. You’re a tough kid. We’ll just wash it off and you’ll be good as new.” He had to think about that for a moment, but in the end decided that he agreed with me that he was a tough kid and stopped crying. We washed it with a clean paper towel and he was on his way out the door again.
At 9, he was starring in the Christian Academy of Chula Vista Christmas Play. He sang and danced his way around the stage in a cowboy hat and boots. I was amazed by his ability to perform in front of people. Unfortunately, this only lasted till the play was over and then he really didn’t ever want to sing in front of people again.
A couple of years later, he was in 6th grade and I was home schooling him except for band, which he took at the nearby middle school. He would ride his bike down the hill from where our house overlooked the neighborhood, across the intersection, up another hill and a mile or more beyond that to the Mesa Hills Middle School. One day, a few minutes after I’d watched him ride down the hill, a car came up the hill and the driver waved me toward her car. She told me that she thought it was my son who’d just been hit by a truck at the bottom of the hill. Needless to say, even in my bare feet, I didn’t hesitate to jump into her car and let her drive me down the hill to where it had happened. It turned out that he had crossed the intersection just as the truck, which had stopped at the stop sign, was just about to turn right and happened to hit him. Other than a bent bicycle wheel and a skinned leg, he was fine --- but a little shook up. He had not made the stop like he should have but had let his momentum from the ride down the hill to shoot him through the intersection. I think I have a few gray hairs from that day.
At 13, he came home from the GNG Middle School (in Maine) one day and challenged the idea that there was a God. I must have sat with him for hours talking with him about God, His existence, His care for Aaron and my desire to see him one day in heaven. I remember it was a little bit like talking to a brick wall. That was one of the incidences that convinced me that I needed to home educate all of our children. I was down on my knees that night praying for him and asking God to reveal Himself to him.
Then he met Stephanie. She was 13 and he was 15 (I think). We went to church with her family and later her family came to live with us. During the 2 years that we lived as a community household, we had many talks with both Aaron and Stephanie about purity, true love, emotional purity, courtship, etc. He and I would talk for hours about his feelings for her sometimes. I encouraged him to keep a journal, which I think he still does.
Aaron loved Math. He flew through Algebra, Geometry and Trig. If he wasn’t reading an assigned book or doing math, he was teaching himself to play the piano or the guitar. I remember him up on the stage with Stephanie. He was playing the guitar and she was playing her violin. He even played for our worship team for a while.
I was so glad of those years he was at home during high school. I know that it may have seemed like he didn’t have all of the opportunities for sports, clubs, orchestra, etc. that he may have had in a public school; but he and I got a chance to bond in a way that we never would have otherwise. I have seen God make up for all of the opportunities that he “lost”. Through our spontaneous conversations about God and His Word and his own soul searching, Aaron has come to know the Lord in a real way. That in itself is more valuable than any extracurricular activity would ever have been.
I remember his graduation. We had a small ceremony in our home for him and I presented him with his diploma. He didn’t want it to be a big deal or anything. I don’t think he really believed that he deserved it. We all gathered around him and prayed for his future decisions and the direction of his life.
Then came the day when his Army recruiter came to pick him up from the house. Ralph and I got up at 4 a.m. to make sure that he had a good breakfast. We both took him into our arms and told him we loved him. I stood at the open door and watched him get into the recruiter’s car and drive away to boot camp. I think I cried after he left.
I was able to go to his boot camp graduation in Georgia. I took a taxi from my hotel onto the base and watched as his platoon marched to the auditorium. After the ceremony, he introduced me to his sergeant. Aaron was so proud of himself for the way that he’d made it through and told me stories about some of the boys who hadn’t while we walked all over the base. I think that he’d finally realized what I knew all along – that he was capable of being the man God wanted him to be.
Over the years that he was away, he would call and we would talk about all kinds of things. He told me his hopes, his fears, his ideas, his plans and his doubts. Looking back, I wish I’d talked to him more often.
Now, after almost 4 years in the Army, 2 of those years being in Korea, he was asking me what I thought about his plan.
“Stephanie and I want to get married this coming December and then go together to Boston so that I can go to college. Do you think it’s too soon?” he inquired.
My glassy-eyed look and hesitation in saying anything threw him for a loop. But here was my little boy talking about getting married. Wow! Time flies!! Was I ready to let go of all those years? Where had the time gone?
There were times that I didn’t spend the time I could have with him; but God helped us to make the moments count, even when it was hard. I know that he and Stephanie will be even better parents than Ralph and I have been. His next question confirmed this: “Mom, do you think that I’ll be able to provide the spiritual and emotional support that she’ll need from a husband?”
“Aaron, I know you will.”
Eph 5:15 – 17 See then that ye walk circumspectly, not as fools, but as wise,
Redeeming the time, because the days are evil. Wherefore be ye not unwise, but understanding what the will of the Lord is.
Dreams vs. Divine Intervention
It’s funny how a glimpse back into our past can open the flood gates to so many memories. Recently, I ran into some old friends…friends I hadn’t seen in almost 20 years. Suddenly, I find myself reminiscing about that time in my life and feeling more glad every moment that I’m no longer that naïve, selfish, stupid, little girl.
Also, there is that feeling of being older and realizing how much time has gone by between dreaming about growing up and actually doing it. In the midst my feelings of relief at being a totally different person (thanks to the redemption of the Lord in my life), there is also a kind of grief, too… a grief at the loss of so many dreams that did not come to pass.
When I was a young adult, 17 - 20, I dreamed of being an opera singer or a Broadway star. I dreamed of being discovered by a talent scout and given a part in a popular play or movie. Then I dreamed of being a great Ballroom dancer/actor/singer. My life seemed to stretch into an endless panorama of promise and fame.
All of those dreams faded when I got pregnant and decided to keep the baby in the face of those who advised me to get an abortion. I owe my decision primarily to my parents who stood by me even when my husband at the time wanted me to get rid of the baby.
I held my ground, with my parent’s support, and had a beautiful baby boy -- then got post-partum depression, caught my husband in an affair, moved out of our apartment and filed for a divorce. The only thing that kept me going during that time was my darling baby. But, the casualties were my dreams, my hopes, my aspirations, which evaporated like so much smoke in the wind.
Now, looking back over that time, you’d think that I’d have so many regrets…and I do: regrets at not making better decisions about relationships, regrets about burning bridges because of my naiveté, regrets at not following through in the face of a few challenges. However, God, in His infinite mercy, gave me so much more.
Those years were not the end of my trials -- that refining fire that burns away what is wood, hay and stubble -- but only the beginning. I didn’t learn what I needed to learn at that time. I learned a lot, but not all that God had for me.
God is continually bringing people into my life who rock my very core and shape me into who He wants me to be: a church in California full of people who knew how to show God’s love; a mother of 6 who taught me the joys of allowing children to be who they are within our parental boundaries; a family of 4 who took us in when there was “no room at the inn”; a mother of 2 who offered to get a job and help support me during a tough time; a man who showed me true commitment where none had before; two young boys who taught me to love even what is not mine; a troubled teen who taught us to accept people no matter their background; three beautiful baby girls, who taught me the beauty of God’s creation; a family in Maine who taught us how to discipline in love, look to the Word for truth, accept accountability and aspire to excellence in all things; a father/pastor, who taught us to look beyond what we see; a pastor in Amarillo who taught me the true meaning of hypocrisy; some home school families who saw value in all relationships; another pastor and church who demonstrated the refuge and restoration we have in Christ; and I could go on and on.
There have been many others, who have loved, accepted, valued, cared, shaken, stirred and poured out over us according to God’s plan. We have benefited by drawing closer and closer to what God has purposed for us.
In the face of all of these experiences… in the face of all of the orchestration we see in God’s big Symphony, how can I regret that my dreams did not come to fruition? When I was willing to “delight myself in the Lord”, God was true to His promise to give me “the desires of my heart”. He put new dreams into my psyche and rewrote the pages of my longing soul to reflect the eternal purposes He had for my life.
How exciting it is to look ahead! Now, instead of my own dreams, I can say with confidence “God, what are Your dreams for me? What is Your purpose today and tomorrow? How are You going to use my talents next?”
Now, I don’t always remember His redemption and His direction; but, God always finds a way to point me toward the right path -- even if it hurts. I’m so glad that God always keeps His promises and, in particular, His promise to “never leave me nor forsake me”.
Our meeting with my old friends was great. We talked about some of the old times, but we talked more about where we are now. She has such a love for the Lord in her heart and God is really using her life and talents to bless families and couples who need a new interest in their lives. She and her husband have been married for over 18 years (I sang at their wedding), and just that fact blessed me.
Regrets? Yes, but only over how I have responded to God; not about where He has taken me. I’m so glad that I have the family and children that I do. I’m so glad that I have the friends and relationships that I have. I’m so glad that God has continually shown me mercy and grace where I merited none and given me His visions for my life.
Ps. 37:4 - Delight thyself also in the Lord; and He shall give thee the desires of thine heart.
Heb. 13:5 - …be content with such things as ye have; for he hath said “I will never leave thee nor forsake thee.”
May I continue to learn the lessons that He has and respond the way that He would have me. May I look ahead to the growing up that I still have to do and rejoice that He will do the “tending and watering”.
Also, there is that feeling of being older and realizing how much time has gone by between dreaming about growing up and actually doing it. In the midst my feelings of relief at being a totally different person (thanks to the redemption of the Lord in my life), there is also a kind of grief, too… a grief at the loss of so many dreams that did not come to pass.
When I was a young adult, 17 - 20, I dreamed of being an opera singer or a Broadway star. I dreamed of being discovered by a talent scout and given a part in a popular play or movie. Then I dreamed of being a great Ballroom dancer/actor/singer. My life seemed to stretch into an endless panorama of promise and fame.
All of those dreams faded when I got pregnant and decided to keep the baby in the face of those who advised me to get an abortion. I owe my decision primarily to my parents who stood by me even when my husband at the time wanted me to get rid of the baby.
I held my ground, with my parent’s support, and had a beautiful baby boy -- then got post-partum depression, caught my husband in an affair, moved out of our apartment and filed for a divorce. The only thing that kept me going during that time was my darling baby. But, the casualties were my dreams, my hopes, my aspirations, which evaporated like so much smoke in the wind.
Now, looking back over that time, you’d think that I’d have so many regrets…and I do: regrets at not making better decisions about relationships, regrets about burning bridges because of my naiveté, regrets at not following through in the face of a few challenges. However, God, in His infinite mercy, gave me so much more.
Those years were not the end of my trials -- that refining fire that burns away what is wood, hay and stubble -- but only the beginning. I didn’t learn what I needed to learn at that time. I learned a lot, but not all that God had for me.
God is continually bringing people into my life who rock my very core and shape me into who He wants me to be: a church in California full of people who knew how to show God’s love; a mother of 6 who taught me the joys of allowing children to be who they are within our parental boundaries; a family of 4 who took us in when there was “no room at the inn”; a mother of 2 who offered to get a job and help support me during a tough time; a man who showed me true commitment where none had before; two young boys who taught me to love even what is not mine; a troubled teen who taught us to accept people no matter their background; three beautiful baby girls, who taught me the beauty of God’s creation; a family in Maine who taught us how to discipline in love, look to the Word for truth, accept accountability and aspire to excellence in all things; a father/pastor, who taught us to look beyond what we see; a pastor in Amarillo who taught me the true meaning of hypocrisy; some home school families who saw value in all relationships; another pastor and church who demonstrated the refuge and restoration we have in Christ; and I could go on and on.
There have been many others, who have loved, accepted, valued, cared, shaken, stirred and poured out over us according to God’s plan. We have benefited by drawing closer and closer to what God has purposed for us.
In the face of all of these experiences… in the face of all of the orchestration we see in God’s big Symphony, how can I regret that my dreams did not come to fruition? When I was willing to “delight myself in the Lord”, God was true to His promise to give me “the desires of my heart”. He put new dreams into my psyche and rewrote the pages of my longing soul to reflect the eternal purposes He had for my life.
How exciting it is to look ahead! Now, instead of my own dreams, I can say with confidence “God, what are Your dreams for me? What is Your purpose today and tomorrow? How are You going to use my talents next?”
Now, I don’t always remember His redemption and His direction; but, God always finds a way to point me toward the right path -- even if it hurts. I’m so glad that God always keeps His promises and, in particular, His promise to “never leave me nor forsake me”.
Our meeting with my old friends was great. We talked about some of the old times, but we talked more about where we are now. She has such a love for the Lord in her heart and God is really using her life and talents to bless families and couples who need a new interest in their lives. She and her husband have been married for over 18 years (I sang at their wedding), and just that fact blessed me.
Regrets? Yes, but only over how I have responded to God; not about where He has taken me. I’m so glad that I have the family and children that I do. I’m so glad that I have the friends and relationships that I have. I’m so glad that God has continually shown me mercy and grace where I merited none and given me His visions for my life.
Ps. 37:4 - Delight thyself also in the Lord; and He shall give thee the desires of thine heart.
Heb. 13:5 - …be content with such things as ye have; for he hath said “I will never leave thee nor forsake thee.”
May I continue to learn the lessons that He has and respond the way that He would have me. May I look ahead to the growing up that I still have to do and rejoice that He will do the “tending and watering”.
Better Homes
I’ve never had a Better Homes & Gardens home – except in my dreams, of course. Although I’ve always wanted my walls to sport stylish wall groupings and have pristine suede furniture, I’ve had to face the reality that it wouldn’t last long with all of the sports in the house and wrestling over the furniture.
Instead, my children have fond memories of a swing in the middle of the living room, a child’s plastic slide/gym touching the ceiling in our play room, hammocks in their bedrooms, and walls and walls of books stacked every which way as long as they fit. Just keeping everything somewhat picked up, semi-organized and clean was all I could do.
As they got older and I no longer had a daycare in my home, my husband and I talked about upgrading from yard-sale finds to almost-new stuff. But that idea went out of the window as our children were constantly bringing home live-in friends or stray dogs and cats. (Sigh!) Then our living room started masquerading as a classroom and our dining room became our science lab slash craft room.
Every once in a while, I’d get the urge to redecorate or do a makeover. Then for the next several weeks I’d be totally preoccupied with paint, molding, “accents”, etc. Additionally, to go with the new look, I’d have to clean, vacuum, dust, rearrange, and you-name-it for the next several weeks after that. It was during one of these times that I had a revelation…not, unfortunately, due to my own soul-searching.
This time my oldest daughter was sitting across from me in my bedroom with tears running down her cheeks. “Mom! You’re hardly ever home! And when you are home, you’re not really HERE! I feel like you’re leaving everything to me.” My first thought was that I was usually home and what did she mean ‘you’re not here’? As she explained, it dawned on me that being with my kids meant being with my kids. You know, focusing on them, listening to them, responding to them. What had happened was that I was putting how my home looked above the needs of my daughters. As a result, my oldest was feeling abandoned. Talk about taking the wind out of my sails. That was the end of my focused redecorating.
Now, when I get the urge to do a home makeover, I have to ask myself, “What is really going to matter in 10 years?” The wall groupings? The matching furniture? The laundry and ironing I got done? No. In 10 years, it will matter that I listened to my kids, came along side them in their challenges, and encouraged them in their goals. In 10 years, I may not even remember what color my kitchen curtains happened to be.
Instead, my children have fond memories of a swing in the middle of the living room, a child’s plastic slide/gym touching the ceiling in our play room, hammocks in their bedrooms, and walls and walls of books stacked every which way as long as they fit. Just keeping everything somewhat picked up, semi-organized and clean was all I could do.
As they got older and I no longer had a daycare in my home, my husband and I talked about upgrading from yard-sale finds to almost-new stuff. But that idea went out of the window as our children were constantly bringing home live-in friends or stray dogs and cats. (Sigh!) Then our living room started masquerading as a classroom and our dining room became our science lab slash craft room.
Every once in a while, I’d get the urge to redecorate or do a makeover. Then for the next several weeks I’d be totally preoccupied with paint, molding, “accents”, etc. Additionally, to go with the new look, I’d have to clean, vacuum, dust, rearrange, and you-name-it for the next several weeks after that. It was during one of these times that I had a revelation…not, unfortunately, due to my own soul-searching.
This time my oldest daughter was sitting across from me in my bedroom with tears running down her cheeks. “Mom! You’re hardly ever home! And when you are home, you’re not really HERE! I feel like you’re leaving everything to me.” My first thought was that I was usually home and what did she mean ‘you’re not here’? As she explained, it dawned on me that being with my kids meant being with my kids. You know, focusing on them, listening to them, responding to them. What had happened was that I was putting how my home looked above the needs of my daughters. As a result, my oldest was feeling abandoned. Talk about taking the wind out of my sails. That was the end of my focused redecorating.
Now, when I get the urge to do a home makeover, I have to ask myself, “What is really going to matter in 10 years?” The wall groupings? The matching furniture? The laundry and ironing I got done? No. In 10 years, it will matter that I listened to my kids, came along side them in their challenges, and encouraged them in their goals. In 10 years, I may not even remember what color my kitchen curtains happened to be.
Becoming a Lifetime Reader
The girls and I were sitting in the living room for our regular “story time”. I opened the book and began reading aloud and in a few moments all of us were transported to a small South American island in the 1500’s, having adventures with four boys from Sir Francis Drake’s latest expedition. An hour later, we came reluctantly back to reality in order to go on with the rest of our day.
That evening, I had two of my daughters begging me to read to them -- this time from Rainbow Valley, book 6 in the Anne of Green Gables series by L.M. Montgomery. So, while they snuggled into their beds, I read the latest adventure among Anne’s children living in Glen St. Mary on Prince Edward Island.
More than an hour later, I looked up from the end of the 3rd chapter I’d read that night to see eyes closing and chests moving up and down slowly under the bed covers. Closing the book, I tiptoed out of the room and carefully put the book on my desk where it would be within easy reach for the next night.
"The single most important activity for building the knowledge required for eventual success in reading is: reading aloud to children. It is a practice that should continue throughout the grades."
The above is a quote from a 1985 report called “Becoming a Nation of Readers” issued by the Commission on Reading (organized by the National Academy of Education and the National Institute of Education and funded under the U.S. Department of Education.) In his book The Read-Aloud Handbook, Jim Trelease calls this “the most important and ‘common-sense’ education document of the past 25 years”.
There are four basic elements in learning any language: listening, speaking, reading and writing. Each element builds upon the knowledge of the last until we can express ourselves eloquently in our writing and thereby demonstrate our mastery. Whenever one or more of the basic elements to learning language are lacking -- listening or speaking -- the reading and writing suffers.
Is it so surprising that reading aloud to children would make such a fundamental difference in their reading and writing? It is only in first hearing vocabulary that we are able to retain it and use it again in our speech, which it then becomes easier to read, and natural to write. Sentence structure, descriptions, word pictures, ideas and arguments become easier to imitate when first heard aloud and then repeated in our conversation.
So what’s so special about reading aloud that cannot be accomplished in conversation or TV watching? It is only in well-written books that higher level language is used. We don’t usually converse using formal vocabulary or higher level language. Most of our conversation is casual and informal. When we watch Television, there is no need to describe scenes or events because we see them happening; and, unless we spend hours watching the Animal Planet or the History Channel, we will never hear any higher level dialogue…and even then, not very much.
Reading aloud has another great benefit that no other past time has: it stimulates our imagination. It requires our participation in bringing the story to life through our thoughts. Because of this, we learn to enjoy stories, language and eventually reading for ourselves. Our imagination becomes the bridge to comprehension so that when we read for ourselves we can understand.
Even though reading aloud seems natural for the elementary age child, we may miss the importance of reading aloud to our teens. Shakespeare suffers without hearing it and the Illiad becomes boring without the poetry rolling off of our lips. Comprehension of college history or English grammar becomes more difficult without having first heard good stories and literature.
Okay, so reading aloud to your teens is not something that you want to do or that they will allow. Audio books are a great alternative. My teen boys decided that they didn’t want to hear about Anne of Green Gables along with the girls, so they borrowed some Dean Koontz novels on audio from the library . Koontz is a master of description and I could see the improvement in their writing almost immediately. Even I benefit from audio books read by professional novelists.
Here’s a great idea: turn off the TV, put an audio book in the player and listen together as a family. You might be surprised at how much fun you will have. Or, snuggle on the sofa with Hank the Cowdog and laugh together as the “ranch security” dogs get into loads of trouble. Find out, like we have, that reading aloud can bring a family closer together in a way that nothing else can.
That evening, I had two of my daughters begging me to read to them -- this time from Rainbow Valley, book 6 in the Anne of Green Gables series by L.M. Montgomery. So, while they snuggled into their beds, I read the latest adventure among Anne’s children living in Glen St. Mary on Prince Edward Island.
More than an hour later, I looked up from the end of the 3rd chapter I’d read that night to see eyes closing and chests moving up and down slowly under the bed covers. Closing the book, I tiptoed out of the room and carefully put the book on my desk where it would be within easy reach for the next night.
"The single most important activity for building the knowledge required for eventual success in reading is: reading aloud to children. It is a practice that should continue throughout the grades."
The above is a quote from a 1985 report called “Becoming a Nation of Readers” issued by the Commission on Reading (organized by the National Academy of Education and the National Institute of Education and funded under the U.S. Department of Education.) In his book The Read-Aloud Handbook, Jim Trelease calls this “the most important and ‘common-sense’ education document of the past 25 years”.
There are four basic elements in learning any language: listening, speaking, reading and writing. Each element builds upon the knowledge of the last until we can express ourselves eloquently in our writing and thereby demonstrate our mastery. Whenever one or more of the basic elements to learning language are lacking -- listening or speaking -- the reading and writing suffers.
Is it so surprising that reading aloud to children would make such a fundamental difference in their reading and writing? It is only in first hearing vocabulary that we are able to retain it and use it again in our speech, which it then becomes easier to read, and natural to write. Sentence structure, descriptions, word pictures, ideas and arguments become easier to imitate when first heard aloud and then repeated in our conversation.
So what’s so special about reading aloud that cannot be accomplished in conversation or TV watching? It is only in well-written books that higher level language is used. We don’t usually converse using formal vocabulary or higher level language. Most of our conversation is casual and informal. When we watch Television, there is no need to describe scenes or events because we see them happening; and, unless we spend hours watching the Animal Planet or the History Channel, we will never hear any higher level dialogue…and even then, not very much.
Reading aloud has another great benefit that no other past time has: it stimulates our imagination. It requires our participation in bringing the story to life through our thoughts. Because of this, we learn to enjoy stories, language and eventually reading for ourselves. Our imagination becomes the bridge to comprehension so that when we read for ourselves we can understand.
Even though reading aloud seems natural for the elementary age child, we may miss the importance of reading aloud to our teens. Shakespeare suffers without hearing it and the Illiad becomes boring without the poetry rolling off of our lips. Comprehension of college history or English grammar becomes more difficult without having first heard good stories and literature.
Okay, so reading aloud to your teens is not something that you want to do or that they will allow. Audio books are a great alternative. My teen boys decided that they didn’t want to hear about Anne of Green Gables along with the girls, so they borrowed some Dean Koontz novels on audio from the library . Koontz is a master of description and I could see the improvement in their writing almost immediately. Even I benefit from audio books read by professional novelists.
Here’s a great idea: turn off the TV, put an audio book in the player and listen together as a family. You might be surprised at how much fun you will have. Or, snuggle on the sofa with Hank the Cowdog and laugh together as the “ranch security” dogs get into loads of trouble. Find out, like we have, that reading aloud can bring a family closer together in a way that nothing else can.
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