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The Parable of the Trees

I have always loved trees, I grew up surrounded by woodland. I find trees beautiful as well as fascinating. When you look at a tree it has the potential to produce hundreds of little trees per year, and yet such a small percentage of seeds will ever grow into a mighty, majestic tree. There is an interesting parable here for life. A young sapling is so fragile, it chances of becoming a mature tree are stacked against it. The sapling must avoid being nibbled by rabbits or deer, trampled under foot, or chocked out by the other plants, in the fight for survival. And yet if it manages to survive it will grow to be tall and strong; immovable, able to withstand storms, and able to sustain life in it’s branches. The saplings that survive can last for hundreds of years. The different species of tree require different conditions, different soils in order the thrive. Children are not dissimilar. It is a sobering thought for any parent to look at the world of adults and see what some achieve, the richness of life experienced by some; and the sadness of others- the homeless man on the corner, the criminal in prison. Each one was born: each one lay as a tiny baby, helpless, innocent and vulnerable- the saying is true “some mothers son”. What is it that nurtures and supports one child to reach the fullness if potential locked up within that tiny baby; and what crushes and kills all hope? Childhood is the making of the man or woman. It is not that we wrap our children in cotton wool. Some children thrieve when challenged, but for others the need a gentler pace. For example Richard Branson’s childhood was very happy and full of love, but his parents would do things that are not conventional (I don’t recommend this!), Branson describes one incidence when he was six: “My mother in particular would do things that you’d get arrested for today. Quite famous situation was when she pushed me out of the car aged six on my way to my grandmother’s house – we were about seven miles away – and told me to make my own way there” In another story he tells how his mother had him ride 300 miles on his bike when he was about ten. But he believes it was things like that which made him who he is. For me this is one of the reason we home educate. I can tailor each child’s education to their needs. I do not treat my...

In the Midst of Mayhem…

With four young children, a day is like a whirlwind of noise and mess. Some days all you can do is cling on, bearly in control of this crazy busy life. The children can drive you to distraction. You want it all to stop, for an oasis of calm, and stillness in the midst of mayhem. But they won’t comply- why should they? They are living, exploring, testing, growing… they are being who they are. Parenting young children can feel like never-ending drudgery. On such days I come to the end, not sure if the strength is their for the next one lined up tomorrow, or the day following, or the seemingly endless days thereafter. Then you read words of wisdom from a mama further down that road less travelled than yourself. A mama who is watching her boys grow into men. Who cannot go back to the mayhem of little boys rampaging through the house with swords, or have a small boy climb upon her knee looking to suckle on the breast. Then you remember why you do it all, and why to cherish the mayhem, as it really won’t last forever. A day will come when the house will be calm, quiet, and tidy; and when that days comes will you yearn to be back in the midst of mayhem? Share this:PrintFacebookTwitterEmailLike this:Like...
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