Not Less a Miracle
In Pocketful of Pinecones Carol writes:
"The robins are back. I awoke to their twitterings and the sound of the soft spring rain. You can’t keep a robin down. His sings in the rain and is always cheerful. If only I could be more like that."
Carol’s sentiments matched mine exactly these last two weeks. Life brings trials. A mother can have a heavy heart. But listening to the birds is a reminder to rejoice in the Lord. How I’ve been anticipating their enthusiastic notes all winter long. Now with my bedroom window open I awake to their twitterings and the sound of April raindrops just as Carol did.
Did you know that Pocketful of Pinecones is published in the South Korean language? Home teachers in South Korea are keen on Charlotte Mason’s method of education. I like what they did with the cover although the color choices are curious, aren’t they?
The ornamental tree blossoms are so pretty in town. I’ve also been keeping an eye on the wild woodland trees outside of town, too. The maples have tiny red flowers at the tips of their branches like the ones drawn in Yolanda’s nature journal in 1999. Click to read her entries if you like.
While driving past the post office I checked the color of the tree flowers of an age old shade tree that I remember seeing all ablaze in autumn. My suspicions were correct. Its flowers are spring green – a clue that it could be a sugar maple. That explains why it flaunts New England orange while the modest maples that dot the woods do not.
Now and again I like to share with you a paragraph from Miss Mason’s books. The middle of page 148 of my Philosophy of Education is boxed in yellow pencil. Miss Mason is so congenial and matter-of-fact on some pages that the profundity of her statements can be overlooked with too swift a reading. Therefore I am always happy to hear that highlighting, underlining, and the general marking up of passages, is being done by C.M. readers.
“Children should be brought up to perceive that a miracle is not less a miracle because it occurs so constantly and regularly that we call it a law; that sap rises in a tree, that a boy is born with his uncle’s eyes, that an answer that we can perceive comes to our serious prayers; these things are not the less miracles because they happen frequently or invariably, and because we have ceased to wonder about them. No doubt so did the people of Jerusalem when our Lord performed many miracles in their streets.”
When I was indoors reading up on trees during our April showers, I stumbled upon one of our old picture books. It has so thin a spin that tucked between its shelved neighbors it is easily lost. I covered it with clear contact paper years back, something I used to do when a book was repeatedly enjoyed. A Tree Is Nice by Janice May Udry stayed parked next to the rocking chair in Nigel’s room. I read it aloud to him at bedtime for a string of evenings when he was two-years-old. This month my baby is twenty-two. My, where do the years go? A Tree Is Nice won the Caldecott Medal in 1956 and so I’m guessing it can be found in most libraries. It is a simple introduction to the appreciation of trees in all seasons. I placed the book just outside our front door during one of our April showers to photograph it.
Old hymns sometimes use the word “tree” referring to the cross of Christ. This thought occurred to me this week with my mind on trees. I ended up humming the tune of the following chorus (adagio) while doing the housework.
Lift high the Cross, the love of Christ proclaim,
Till all the world adore His sacred name.
Near the end of the afternoon I overheard Dean singing it as I passed by his office. It’s catchy. The tree is in verse three:
O Lord, once lifted on this glorious Tree,
As Thou hast promised, draw men unto Thee.
Thank you for visiting.