I’ve been out, in case you dd not notice. Technical difficulties, partly. But also partly supervising the removal of the last of the kid stuff from my house.
Oh, I have a Grandmother toy box, educational games, and color books still lying around, but the closets reserved for my own children’s collections are empty.
And in the process I have found so many odd things:
- The mosquito netting for our cradle
- The other set of guest bed sheets
- The shower curtain the sellers left in our previous house
- A kaleidoscope
- Our gallon of exterior yellow paint
- A small vial filled with unpolished hematite pebbles
- A long-lost issue of the magazine I once wrote for
- My old art portfolio, AND
- A home-school graduation program with the following poem:
It is a holy thing to teach a child,
A holy thing to take the wild
And tame it for the LORD.
It is a holy thing to love your own,
A holy thing to stand alone
And be the three-ply cord.
It is a holy thing to stay behind,
A holy thing to never-mind
Things you cannot afford.
It is a holy thing to work for good,
A holy thing to take for food
His righteous, written Word.
It is a holy thing to read and run,
A holy thing to rest when done
And take the good reward.
It is a holy thing to put to flight
Ten thousand with a little might,
And then lay down your sword.
Can I get a witness?