Monday, June 29, 2015

The Winding Road (a personal chat - Karen Andreola)

"The long and winding road
That leads to your door
Will never disappear" - The Beatles, 1970


It's been awhile since we've visited. I've managed to make it upstairs in the attic to sit in front of my computer and write what has been on my mind.

I was out-of-state helping my daughter with her difficult pregnancy. I was only a little help, really.

I sat around like an old-fashioned granny watching two boisterous little boys. This is because I'd been convalescing with my foot up on chairs - and keeping downstairs.

Not long ago Dean and I were visiting a church. Just as we were taking our places, I missed an unforeseen step. Twisting an ankle, I fell headlong to the floor, hitting my face on the oak pew across the isle. To my dismay, that beautiful spring morning was spent in the ER.. No broken bones, no lost teeth -thankfully. Stitches and bruises are healed by now. But I'm humbled by a small scare where my lip was supper-glued together. Never-mind. It feels good to be able to smile again.

As you can see I'm taking a moment for a personal chat. If you've come looking for informative articles, welcome. I invite you to click around. I hope the articles will encourage you.

Lancaster County farm

May I tell you why the above lyrics came to mind? It will explain why Dean and I took a drive together through the back roads of our neighborhood to take pictures for you today. 

We'd been reading the book of Ruth and hearing sermons on this moving story. It shows that the life of the believer is not a straight highway to heaven. Our journey is more like a winding road, more like the country roads around here, where we live in Pennsylvania.


Here the roads are old ones, roads made in the days when William Penn granted land to settlers looking for religious freedom, Quaker or otherwise. The roads wind around small farms, curve along creeks, go up and down rolling hills. They are obscured by woods or lined with weedy hedgerows.

This time of year the landscape is green and lush. The small farms are full of flowers and mini garden retreats.

Where Are We?
It isn't surprising that tourists to Lancaster County (and even we) who venture onto the "scenic routes" soon find we've lost a sense of direction. The life of the believer can be like this. We can feel lost. But using the lyrics above for my own purposes, the door to heaven will never disappear. In our hearts we believe the promise that it is truly and wonderfully there.


In the book of Ruth we see that life has set-backs. But set-backs are part of God's gracious road to glory. We move forward up and down the road, by faith, even when we cannot see around the bend.

I am trying to accept the set backs in my life and in the life of those I love. I believe that they are part of God's plan. I will admit to asking God, during times of discouragement, how He can expect me to be a faithful Christian with all the, pain, loss and set backs life holds? His answer to St.Paul's repeated prayers to remove the chronic, painful thorn in his flesh was, "My grace is sufficient for you for my power is made perfect in weakness."(2 Corinthians 12:10).


A Turn in the Road
Last year we asked for prayer for our son, Nigel, who was injured. The top treatment for RSD that he had undergone in Philadelphia, failed. Due to the pain of RSD in his hands, Nigel is very limited in what he can do. It is my sorrow to see him unable to use his hands in ways he once enjoyed. Playing piano, driving a car, cooking a meal, riding his mountain bike, fencing, etc. I am reminded of a verse I wove into my story, Lessons at Blackberry Inn (before this injury took place.) "A man's heart plans his way but the Lord directs his steps." (Proverbs 16:9)

Happily, when he was a boy, Nigel gave his life to Jesus his Savior. He's kept his faith. This is the most important thing, isn't it? What he can do is use a computer mouse and Wacom tablet with rests in between. He was schooled and received honors in graphic arts and web design, and stays current with the odd college course.

Presently, he is preparing my two stories, Pocketful of Pinecones and its sequel Lessons at Blackberry Inn, for Kindle. It is slow and steady work - but work he does well and gratefully.

When our current stock of Lessons of Blackberry Inn runs out we will no longer be printing a paper edition. If you've been meaning to purchase this story - a summer retreat for the home teacher - in paper, click here.





Joy in the Midst of Trouble
While I was away I enjoyed attending a baby shower for our daughter Sophia at her house. It was hosted by Sophia's sister, Yolanda and Sophia's homeschool friend Shannon. They did a beautiful job. The raspberry filled lemon cake with raspberry frosting, Yolanda's recipe, tasted especially fresh and delicious. (Proof of my opinion is that when Yolanda handed me a leftover piece of cake at the close of the party- I hid it in the very back of the Sophia's frig and treated myself with it by petite-fours-sized slices - after my grandchildren were in bed - for three consecutive evenings. Ahh.) I asked Shannon how long she and Sophia have been friends and she told me since they were 11 years-old. That was 22 years ago. Sisters and old friends are a blessing. (And daughters who know how to cook.)

My gift of a homemade quilt is one that had been resting in my Grandmother's Someday Box for some years, saved for whomever the next little girl would be to enter our lives.


I finished knitting the angora baby jacket I started this spring. It is soft and delicate.





All I need to do is attach a pink ribbon or a button to the collar. I can't decide which.

Anyway, we are looking forward to meeting the upcoming baby girl soon.

Living Along the Winding Road,
Karen Andreola










Saturday, May 23, 2015

Part Two - Even-Steven Expectations

Even-Steven Expectations - Part Two


Dear home teacher. Please give yourself credit. Don't be discouraged by the uneven path. If, by your guidance, your children possess knowledge-made-personal in this subject or that, (they don't have to like everything) you have done very very well. This is more precious than any perfect test score or Even-Steven grade level results.

Lilacs out the back door.

We Met a Snag

Baby One's high school Nature Notebook, May 1999.
I remember my first uneven learner. Sophia, Baby One, in first grade homeschool. We met a snag. She was having trouble recognizing her numerals in the teens. Why say thir-teen when the teen is pictured before the three (13)? This backwards order may have been what stumped her. Anyway, after several lessons she just couldn't get it. Being a new teacher I shared my anxiety with a friend who happened to be a school math teacher before she began home teaching. "Lay it aside for some weeks," she told me.

"Some weeks, really?" I asked. I had my doubts but followed her advice. After a month I returned to teens and tried again. My student got it. What went on during the down-time? I can't explain. Can anyone?  My student's mind needed a pause - as it needed again through-out our home education experience. But in later years I took it with a grain-of-salt.

Maple "helicopter" seeds near the front door.

Following a Child's Pace is Lessons at Their Finest

Once-in-a-while, with a twinge of disappointment, I'd replace a book I was reading aloud.*1 (A book change was infrequent but when it did occur I didn't mourn over the one that didn't lend itself toward a narration.) And, as uncomfortable as I felt, at first, to teach unevenly, inevitably, I did just that. I'd skip it, tweak it, review it, replace it, or return to it later. This is what happens when following a child's pace. When tested (the C.A.T. by law) years later, Baby One was grade levels "ahead" in reading comprehension and vocabulary, teetering on-average in math, pitifully "behind" in spelling. Fine. Being uneven people by nature, it was something I learned to pay little attention to. I kept pleasantly plodding along our journey, challenging her strengths, taking patience with her weaknesses. My readers could tell their own stories of uneven paths and uneven people, I know. 

Do I Hear A Sigh?

We want to live by faith not fear. As we've heard that faith is the evidence of things unseen we learn to live without the security of constant testing. Miss Charlotte Mason found the state of her country to be "an examination-ridden empire."*2 This state of things was born out of good intentions. More than one hundred years ago Even-Steven Expectations were born out of the large classroom. Population growth had to be managed somehow. But I can hear Miss Mason sigh between the lines of her books.

A rare Jack-in-the-Pulpit I found in our woods.
When grade level and passing tests become more important than knowledge-made-personal, over-testing and over-teaching (for the test) is the result. Sadly, this fear detracts from a peaceful and pleasant atmosphere of learning - an atmosphere where children best thrive. Today, an atmosphere of less-testing and less talky-talk from the teacher seems to be accepted among circles of the Charlotte Mason-minded. Fabulous. The nervous race to get-ahead, of constant quizzing and testing to prove progress to ourselves or to local authorities, is unheeded. We don't "run with the pack"- a phrase I borrow from my husband's boyhood school days. Rather, we preserve a child's curiosity.  His mind is made to grow with nourishment and exercise as his body grows with its nourishment and exercise. Trusting this we can test less, teach less. We can be more the mother, less the teacher.



It isn't surprising that teachers think learning is all in their hands. Yet, Miss Mason pops this bubble. She tells her conscientious teachers what to expect.

"In the great work of education parents and teachers have a subordinate part after all. You may bring your horse to water but can't make him drink: and you may present ideas of the fittest to the mind of the child; but you do not know in the least which he will take, and which he will reject. And very well for us it is that this safeguard to this individuality is implanted in every child's breast. Our part is to see that his educational plat [plot of ground] is constantly replenished with fit and inspiring ideas, and then . . . leave it to the child's own appetite to take which he will have, and as much as he requires. Of one thing we must beware. The least symptom of satiety, especially when the ideas we present are moral and religious, should be taken as a serious warning. Persistence on our part just then may end in the child's never willingly sitting down the that dish any more."*3

Just For Fun
Baby Two turned 30 this year.



My married daughter Yolanda (Baby Two) teaches cello to students who come to her home. She takes her teaching seriously. The Suzuki Cello Books she uses are good for progress in developing new skills. But she supplements theses with her own pieces, she told me with a smile, "just for fun." She composes Celtic style music or a hymn to fit each student's ability - arranging duets that she plays with her students. These they particularly enjoy. She also transcribes for the cello, a familiar pop song or two, perhaps one requested by a student, so that he or she can do some "side" playing, she calls it, - "exactly where they are.

The Side-Stroke

Isn't this what education is meant to do for us after all - at least in part? - that is - to enjoy being exactly where we are? Swimming the side-stroke is going somewhere. And when the yellow sunshine warms the air and the blue water is cool and refreshing, it is delightful to be right where we are for the moment. 

Resisting the "Not Enough Syndrome"

If self-education is to be fostered we would do well to remind ourselves that this is an education that also trusts in the enlightening work of the Holy Spirit (as talked about in earlier posts and comments). The Christian who rests in this needn't feel that she is never doing enough. Taking this yoke upon us the weight of our responsibility is light. The home teacher is diligent in overseeing daily lessons. But she resists packing information into a child like packing an already overstuffed suitcase - pressing down hard enough to zipper it closed (for the test) - my metaphor of Miss Mason's "satiety."

Yes, we provide - over the years of the journey - a feast of good books - on a sumptuous scale. We guide the student in forming skills and forming a relationship with pictures, music, outdoor experience, etc. But following the Charlotte Mason method, we do some stepping aside. The children step forward. They delve. They are given space to reflect, to observe, to consider. They form a relationship with what, they themselves, pack into their suitcase, piece by piece. They may be on a journey but they are also, for the present, enjoying being right where they are. If they are able to tell what impresses them. This is knowledge-made-personal - a blessing immeasurable.


End Notes

*1  I remember replacing a book (of bland and unmemorable mini-biographies) with the unabridged story Heidi by Johanna Spyri. Its setting widened my students world a bit further and the characters, her sympathies.




The 1937 film with nine-year-old, Shirley Temple, is sweet, is humorous around the edges, and exciting near its conclusion. I like happy endings, too, very much.  (Heidi DVD)

*2  Charlotte Mason, Parents and Children, page 224
*3  Ibid, page127

Related Topics
Are you new here? Welcome. Some of the ideas I've written above, I've introduced before in earlier posts. For your convenience I've linked to them. This May marks five years of my blogging. I've so enjoyed meeting those who have read my book, A Charlotte Mason Companion.


More The Mother, Less the Teacher
All Education is Divine   
Not Enough Syndrome


On Mother's Day  Libby's daughters presented her with a pint of Lavender Strawberry Sachets. Soon after, she thought of me kindly, and sent me a photograph. Thanks for sharing your strawberries with us, Libby. It looks like the girls used their own ribbon choices and that your gift was made by loving hands. Isn't a homemade gift a touching surprise?

Comments are Welcome
Karen Andreola
karenjandreola@gmail.com



Wednesday, May 6, 2015

Even-Steven Expectations - Part One

Even-Steven Expectations - Part One

My married daughter taught first-grade to her son this year. What a difficult time she had over the winter. Two herniated disks flared up after picking up her other son when he fell. Being pregnant further complicated matters. Her sister drove below the Mason Dixon Line to help her. I've been there to help (between posts) and plan to travel there again. Her husband is a big help. And some church friends brought meals.


All the while my daughter tried to obey her doctor and not do much. Telling a mother of two energetic boys, who like to play cowboys and Indians, to not do much - and while you are supposed to be home teaching - is a remedy hard to follow.

 In the midst of this she telephoned me in bewilderment to confess her son's "uneven learning." I did my best to console her.


When it came time for the year-end evaluation she was nervous. (She reports directly to a public school teacher/evaluator three times a school-year.)  Being truthful she told the evaluator that because of her physical limitations she had given her first grade student about one hour of formal lessons a day over the winter. (Although, she hadn't mentioned all the informal learning he picked up along the way.)


"Oh, honey," the evaluator told her, "from what I see here, and what you're telling me, you did great." "You homeschoolers worry too much, " she went on. "You shouldn't. You can accomplish far more in one or two hours a morning, at this age, than a classroom can accomplish in a day." This lady smiled when she added, "You aren't the only pregnant mother who's come in here with the same concern." My daughter was relieved. As she walked down the hallway (I should say hobbled) toward the door to leave, she noticed the colorful and happy-looking homeschool artwork this lady had pinned along the wall. They had scripture verses on them.

I like the rolling, uneven grounds of Ephrata Cloister 

The Object of Lessons

Miss Charlotte Mason points out the object of formal lessons. They should be twofold:

To train a child in certain mental habits, as attention, accuracy, promptness, etc., 

To nourish him with ideas which may bear fruit in his life. *1

A teacher with students. Swiss painter Albert Anker (1831-1910)

Incremental learning is advisable. It is especially helpful for math, penmanship, reading and other skills such as spelling. Daily lessons spaced out over weeks and months, show our faithfulness in helping our child gain skills and giving him something to think about.

But when it comes to knowledge for a fruitful life (I explained to my daughter) what the student is learning may not get digested or absorbed evenly. It would be nice if it did. It would conveniently match the objectives of the lesson planner. And it would secure confidence that we were really doing our job - and a good job at that. We would like evidence of that rock-solid phrase we've grown so familiar in hearing: Steady Progress.

A large bed of lily-of-the-valley thrives in an uneven flower bed. 

Uneven People, Uneven learners

But children aren't necessarily even-learners. If we look at the child's powers of self-education we see that learning often runs contrary to our Even-Steven expectations. What is really going on is that the child learns in spurts. He learns on the go. He can make wide strides one day and go on tippy-toe the next. "I get it," can come after a pause of reflection - after some down time. Or a certain book, painting, person, filed trip, science experiment, nature walk, piece of music, Bible story, etc., may open the door of a child's mind - a door of interest or a door of understanding, that wasn't open before.

A certain vivifying idea may leave an impression, merge-in-the-mind with a batch of other ideas (that seemed to lay dormant before) and now "it makes sense" - it makes wonderful sense. This knowledge-made-personal brings a sparkle to the learner's eye. Derived by uneven learning (and not something proved by any tidbit on a page of multiple-choice) it has left a welcome and meaningful impression - enough of an impression to be one of those delightfully satisfying morsels of knowledge that will bear fruit in the child's life.


The home teacher, who finds that learning isn't matching up to the lesson planner or the teacher's guide might find this uneven-aspect a worry. She might sink into utter exasperation. She might think she is a bad teacher. Or the thought might cross her mind that her student is an odd-ball, is stubborn, disobedient, or has a mental-block. But all the while, what could be taking place is normal uneven-learning by the uneven-people we are. In actuality this mother is probably a diligent and conscientious teacher who would be much encouraged to consider the ways of the Gentle Art of Learning.

End of Part One

The Gentle Art of Learning trusts in self-education. It is something uneven that takes place on the child's side of the fence. Next time we meet I hope to bring you the second half of this article.

 Do you have uneven learners in your home?

End Notes
Charlotte Mason, Parents and Children, page 229. 


Except for the paintings and the photograph of my fast moving grandsons - the springtime photographs are from my file taken by Dean at Ephrata Cloister a few years ago.

Jennifer and her daughter Keren sewed a batch of purple Strawberry Sachets from her kit, gave them as gifts, made more, and happily gave those away as gifts. Perhaps with the knowledge that the roadside stands will soon be displaying their offerings of red ripe homegrown strawberries, Jennifer and Keren couldn't resist making a pint of red sachets, (left). These are a gift to a special friend who has been kind to their family. I'm in anticipation of strawberry season, aren't you?

Until Next Time,
Karen Andreola