Wednesday, June 5, 2013

Little boys can become great men.

My kids love when Kim comes over because she helps them build forts.  The fort from Monday night was left up through yesterday, and James wanted to take his nap in it.  I thought there might be some shenanigans from him before falling asleep on the floor, but I didn't hear a peep from his room.  On the contrary, he was sleeping so deeply he slept through me taking a lot of pictures of him, and finally had to be awakened by me crawling under there myself.

I've been thinking a little bit about what kind of man he will be one day, what his pursuits will be someday in the future.  Those sweet lashes and the curve of his soft baby cheek... I'm glad I have them to remember when "someday" is here. 

KJ and I finished reading Echoes of Eden by Jerram Barrs on Friday.  In the chapter about Tolkien's writing Barrs wrote a summary of the things that shaped Tolkien as a boy:

"His mother taught him at home, and he was eager
to learn languages, Latin especially--he liked the
sound of its words--and also French...His mother
taught him botany, and this fascinated him.  He was
entranced by trees:  looking at them, climbing them,
drawing them..."

I really liked the mentions of Tolkien's mother.  I've never thought about Tolkien's mother; do we ever think about the mothers of people we admire, the people who make, create, and do wonderful things?  

I'm sure Tolkien's mother had no idea what the fruit of teaching languages and botany to her son would be, but it's obvious there was much fruit indeed. The whole world can see the fruit of those early lessons now.

I don't know much about botany, but I was inspired to teach my children what I do know, to invest what God has given me in them, because those things will shape their lives in both big and small ways.

P.S.  I'm currently caught up in teaching James how to not lose his cool when Ella's foot touches him on the couch.  It's an important lesson in its own way, I suppose.

1 comment:

  1. tears.

    This is so beautiful, dear Lynn.

    precious James.

    ReplyDelete