Wildflower Writes

I've never been much of an artist. I can sketch well enough that the object is recognizable, but my drawings of people and my playdoh figurines probably haven't changed much since 4th grade. I appreciate art- color, contrast, texture... but I would never consider myself an artist. I prefer a different kind of canvas. Every day I get to read stories to elementary-aged students. Those faces, and the minds behind them, are my canvas. I'm not a teacher, per se, but I know that connecting children to characters, to stories, to books, to reading... provides building blocks for education and intellectual curiosity. I believe advancing literacy is more important than achieving high scores on standardized tests, although there certainly is a correlation. Working as a librarian, even temporarily, is like spending time with my childhood friends. From Green Eggs and Ham to The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, the whole Nancy Drew series, the amazing illustrations of Eric Carle, T...

I enjoy festivals . It’s not the crowds, because I could do without that. It’s the celebratory atmosphere, the neighborly chats, and the break in the everyday humdrum. I just came back from the Wakarusa Maple Syrup Festival. Even though it was cold and wet, my children and I had a really nice time. After several years of festivalling with my children, I’ve learned a few things. 1. Know where you’re going. I spent a half hour traipsing all over a small town with young children because I was too proud to get a map and too cheap to pay for a shuttle. These days almost everything is online. You can look up schedules, directions, everything. You just have to plan ahead. 2. Dress for the weather. And walking. I always make my kids where tennis shoes and socks, even if it’s scalding hot. Hot is better than blisters. I also try to prepare for the worst. It was fifty degrees outside today, but if we hadn’t all had long sleeves and winter coats, we would have frozen. Ponchos would have ...

Sometimes I worry about what kind of mom I am. I don’t spend inordinate amounts of time with my children. Sometimes I yell at them. Sometimes I say things I shouldn’t about people or situations that frustrate me. Sometimes I forget to keep up with their papers, projects, and events from school and activities. Sometimes I shut myself up in my room for some alone time. When it comes down to it, I am largely responsible, along with my husband, for the kind of people my children become. By helping support their interests and abilities as they grow, we give them tools to become what they are created to be. By instructing and disciplining, we teach them what is and is not appropriate in the social arena. It’s more than turning my children into responsible citizens, however. Whether I like it or not, their view of the world is colored by their interaction with me. When I show them affection, they feel how great it is to be loved. When I laugh with them, they learn how to find joy. ...

Have you ever wondered what are children good for? They can’t work; they can’t contribute. They tend to be loud, needy, and self-centered. Why did God create us so that we come into the world in the form of an infant, rather than fully mature? Why did He send His Son to earth in the same form? Anyone I’ve ever known who has become a parent has said the experience changes him or her. All of the sudden, you are not living for yourself. As a pregnant woman, everything you eat, drink, or breathe affects your child. After a baby is born, it relies on its parents for everything. The choices the caregivers make will affect whether that child learns to trust them to meet his or her needs. A child teaches you to love in a way that you’ve never loved before. It’s unconditional and fierce. It protects at all costs, yet disciplines without regret. It believes that anything is possible, and teaches how to deal with reality. It is completely patient, and always yearning for more time. Ch...

Five hundred children were packed into the elementary school gymnasium. It was assembly time. I watched little faces, some edged with pre-teen boredom, others gleaming with unmerited enthusiasm.. Some kids obviously took pride in their appearance, others dressed for comfort. Some were part of a cute little clique, others tended to drift alone. Some friends seemed unusual combinations- the almost 6-foot-tall fifth grader and his buddy, who came up a little higher than his elbow. Another was tall solid girl with long natural wavy hair and glasses, chatting happily with a petite blonde with a ponytail and name brand clothes. As I scanned the faces, all shapes, colors, and sizes, I wondered what life was like for them. Surely some are happy-go-lucky, enjoying school, and living in a safe, loving home. Others may give that appearance but really struggle with abuse, self-doubt, or poverty. They each had different reactions to receiving awards. Some were obviously purely excited for the recog...

As a child, I remember fighting with my siblings to get my fair share. In those times, one of my father’s favorite sayings was “It’s not all about you.” While often said with force and intended to end the argument, the underlying message remains. Life is not about self or what you want or what makes you happy. Life is infinitely richer than the narrow framework of self. It involves interacting with and caring for other people. At the early stages of a child’s life, the parents make a choice to pander to every felt need of that child, or at some point communicate to him that parents are people too. When a toddler is told “no” he begins to realize he is not the center of the universe and is not entitled to have all his desires met. He learns some actions are unsafe and others are not kind. Compassion is also taught in parental response to their children in times of pain, sadness, or fear. An attentive parent learns to distinguish the types of cries. A child needs to know that her parent...

They swam in squiggles and lazy circles- gold, pink, speckled. “That one’s fat!” said my daughter. “Look! There’s more over here!” exclaimed my son, pointing to the far area of the koi pond at the front of the Chinese restaurant. For just a moment, I lost myself in my children’s world, gazing at the large multi-colored fish as they swam through the clear water, gliding past one another in silence, fins moving gracefully back and forth. “I like the blue speckled one,” I said, pointing. “What’s a speckle?” asked my daughter. I tried to explain and tried to stay in that world as long as possible, looking almost longingly as the carved Chinese men decorating the bridge across the faux mountain range. As adults we are so anxious and busy, we rarely take time to notice the small delights around us. Sometimes, we even force our children along when they want to enjoy the journey. There may not even be a reason, except we have a never-ending “to-do” list that has taken top importance in ...