PrincipledMom™

I am surprised at the number of poems that have peppered my posts lately. Must be a "season" heehee. Well of course it was a short week in our celebration of Thanksgiving. Princess G asked to read Psalm 100 before dinner. I was very proud of her initiative and she read aloud beautifully. I wish she'd speak up more but she did a great job. While we are on the subject, I thought I'd share a poem she wrote last year (I was surprised at the result--she was only 6). It may inspire you to do something similar for Christmas.

Giving Thanks
Today I will go
Unto the house of the Lord,
Remembering what God has done:
Keeping me safe,
Everlasting love for me,
Years and years of life.

So her latest poem has a little different flavor:
God
God has great powers
So He gave us flowers.
Girls are so sweet
When they meet.
I love God;
He's sure not odd.

This poem made us laugh. The last line was originally "He's not a pod" but I couldn't let that stay, so she changed it a little. She worked hard on that little poem, on her bed with a note pad and pencil. This was the big English work we did last week.

We read more of the Pilgrim story, and we read through "An Old-Fashioned Thanksgiving," by Louisa May Alcott. We laughed at the "bear" and the funny things that happened as they were cooking dinner. I think the story will become a tradition around here.

We also started our holiday notebooks and gathered materials for that. We had a good time listening to carols online and chatting and printing. I let her choose what she wanted in her notebook and we created pages for each topic. We printed pages for people to write what they were thankful for (she wanted it to read "Whatcha thankful for?") and took around for the family to sign. We also printed some pages for recipes, journaling, traditions and the Advent study we are doing.

We reviewed some things we had discussed in JBC up to this point. That's always good to do. We will break from that this month and do our Advent Bible study.

So I guess last week was mainly reading and writing and having a good time. She also worked on some math, including a multiplication table with half of the numbers missing, for her to fill in. She got them all right! YEA!!! We had a good time and I'm very happy with how last week came out. We spent time together around God's word and some good writing--even if we aren't quite up to Ms. Alcott's caliber...just yet.

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I have posted a lot of poetry lately. Well, here are some more beautiful poems for the holiday. Enjoy!

At Thanksgiving
by Lucy Larcom

For the wealth of pathless forests,
Whereon no axe may fall;
For the winds that haunt the branches;
The young bird's timid call;
For the red leaves dropped like rubies
Upon the dark green sod;
For the weaving of the forests,
I thank Thee, O my God!
For the sound of water gushingIn bubbling beads of light;For the fleets of snow white liliesFirm anchored out of sight;For the reeds among the eddies;The crystal on the clod;For the flowing of the rivers,I thank Thee, O my God!

For the rosebud's break of beauty
Along the toiler's way;
For the violet's eye that opens
To bless the new born day;
For the bare twigs that in summer
Bloom like the prophet's rod;
For the blossoming of flowers,
I thank Thee, O my God!

For the lifting up of mountains,
In brightness and in dread;
For the peaks where snow and sunshine
Alone have dared to tread;
For the dark of silent gorges,
Whence mighty ceders nod;
For the majesty of mountains,
I thank Thee, O my God!

For the splendor of the sunsets,
Vast mirrored on the sea;
For the gold fringed clouds that curtain
Heaven's inner mystery;
For the molten bars of twilight,
Where thought leans glad yet awed;
For the glory of the sunsets,
I thank Thee, O my God!

For the earth and all its beauty;
The sky and all its light;
For the dim and soothing shadows,
That rest the dazzled sight;
For unfading fields and prairies,
Where sebse in vain has trod;
For the world's exhaustless beauty,
I thank Thee, O my God!

For an eye of inward seeing;
A soul to know and love;
For these common aspirations,
That our high heirship prove;
For the hearts that bless each other
Beneath Thy smile, Thy rod;
For the amaranth saved from Eden,
I thank Thee, O my God!

For the hidden scroll, o'erwritten
With one dear name adored;
For the Heavenly in the human,
The spirit in the Word;
For the tokens of Thy presence
Within, above, abroad;
For Thine own great gift of Being
I thank Thee, O my God!

Boys and girls Thanksgiving of 1892
by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Never since the race was started,
Had a boy in any clime,
Cause to be so thankful-hearted,
As the boys of present time.

Not a girl in old times living--
Let the world talk as it may--
Found such reasons for Thanksgiving,
As the girls who live to-day!

Grandmas, in their corners sitting,
Toiling till the day grew late,
What knew they with endless knitting,
Of the jolly roller-skate?

Grandpas sitting by the fender,
Reading by the fagGots' blaze,
What knew they of modern splendor
Found in incandescent rays?

Where they toiled in bitter weather,
Braving rain and snow and sleet,
Gathering sticks of wood together,
We have radiators' heat.

But these fruits of modern science
They first planted seed by seed,
In their strength and self-reliance
We may find a noble creed.

With the dawn of great inventions,
Came the anti-warring days.
Men are sick of armed contentions,
God be thanked with heart-felt praise.

Once a boy was trained for fighting,
Now the world is better taught,
'Tis an age when wrongs are righting
By the force of common thought.

Once a girl was trained for sewing,
Spinning, knitting, nothing more.
She must never think of knowing
Aught of things outside her door.

If she soared above her spinning,
If she sought a life more broad,
She was looked upon as sinning
'Gainst the laws of man and God.

Now a girl is taught she's human,
Brain and body, soul and heart--
All are needed by the woman
Who to-day would play her part.

Swift and sure the world advances,
Let the critic carp who may.
God be praised for all the chances
Boys and girls enjoy to-day.

The Old-Fashioned Thanksgiving
by Edgar Albert Guest (1881-1959)

It may be I am getting old and like too much to dwell
Upon the days of bygone years, the days I loved so well;
But thinking of them now I wish somehow that I could know
A simple old Thanksgiving Day, like those of long ago,
When all the family gathered round a table richly spread,
With little Jamie at the foot and grandpa at the head,
The youngest of us all to greet the oldest with a smile,
With mother running in and out and laughing all the while.

It may be I'm old-fashioned, but it seems to me to-day
We're too much bent on having fun to take the time to pray;
Each little family grows up with fashions of its own;
It lives within a world itself and wants to be alone.
It has its special pleasures, its circle, too, of friends;
There are no get-together days; each one his journey wends,
Pursuing what he likes the best in his particular way,
Letting the others do the same upon Thanksgiving Day.

I like the olden way the best, when relatives were glad
To meet the way they used to do when I was but a lad;
The old home was a rendezvous for all our kith and kin,
And whether living far or near they all came trooping in
With shouts of "Hello, daddy!" as they fairly stormed the place
And made a rush for mother, who would stop to wipe her face
Upon her gingham apron before she kissed them all,
Hugging them proudly to her breast, the grownups and the small.

Then laughter rang throughout the home, and, Oh, the jokes they told;
From Boston, Frank brought new ones, but father sprang the old;
All afternoon we chatted, telling what we hoped to do,
The struggles we were making and the hardships we'd gone through;
We gathered round the fireside. How fast the hours would fly--
It seemed before we'd settled down 'twas time to say good-bye.
Those were the glad Thanksgivings, the old-time families knew
When relatives could still be friends and every heart was true.

Giving Thanks
Unknown
For the hay and the corn and the wheat that is reaped,For the labor well done, and the barns that are heaped,For the sun and the dew and the sweet honeycomb,For the rose and the song and the harvest brought home --Thanksgiving! Thanksgiving!For the trade and the skill and the wealth in our land,For the cunning and strength of the workingman's hand,For the good that our artists and poets have taught,For the friendship that hope and affection have brought --Thanksgiving! Thanksgiving!For the homes that with purest affection are blest,For the season of plenty and well-deserved rest,For our country extending from sea unto sea;The land that is known as the "Land of the Free" --Thanksgiving! Thanksgiving!

Thanksgiving- Anonymous
The year has turned its circle,The seasons come and go.The harvest all is gathered inAnd chilly north winds blow.Orchards have shared their treasures,The fields, their yellow grain,So open wide the doorway - Thanksgiving comes again!

An Old-Fashioned Thanksgiving
a short story by Louisa May Alcott

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This poem is a must-read every Thanksgiving. It reveals the Providence of God in the lives of the Pilgrims and the preparation for America's birth.

THE WORD of God to Leyden came,
Dutch town by Zuyder-Zee;
Rise up, my children of no name,
My kings and priests to be.
There is an empire in the West,
Which I will soon unfold;
A thousand harvests in her breast,
Rocks ribbed with iron and gold.

Rise up, my children, time is ripe!
Old things are passed away.
Bishops and kings from earth I wipe:
Too long they’ve had their day.
A little ship have I prepared
To bear you o’er the seas;
And in your souls, my will declared,
Shall grow by slow degrees.

Beneath my throne the martyrs cry:
I hear their voice, How long?
It mingles with their praises high,
And with their victor song.
The thing they longed and waited for,
But died without the sight;
So, this shall be! I wrong abhor,
The world I ’ll now set right.

Leave, then, the hammer and the loom,
You’ve other work to do;
For Freedom’s commonwealth there ’s room,
And you shall build it too.
I ’m tired of bishops and their pride,
I ’m tired of kings as well;
Henceforth I take the people’s side,
And with the people dwell.

Tear off the mitre from the priest,
And from the king, his crown;
Let all my captives be released;
Lift up, whom men cast down.
Their pastors let the people choose,
And choose their rulers too;
Whom they select, I ’ll not refuse,
But bless the work they do.

The Pilgrims rose, at this God’s word,
And sailed the wintry seas:
With their own flesh nor blood conferred,
Nor thought of wealth or ease.
They left the towers of Leyden town,
They left the Zuyder-Zee;
And where they cast their anchor down,
Rose Freedom’s realm to be.

By Jeremiah Eames Rankin

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As I said a couple of posts back, I'm back to creating my own plans, which I really enjoy. Here's what went on at our house in the way of lessons.

Bible
Principle: Law of Love
Leading idea: theme from JBC in Ex. 20:1-2
We read the account of giving the Ten Commandments. That was interesting, and we painted "word pictures" to really set the tone. We talked about how the Children of Israel must have felt, knowing God was physically coming to the mountain in three days. How would that make us feel? How are things different now that we have the Holy Spirit and Jesus living in our hearts? How does that affect our "law"? (law moved from the outward ten commandments to the inward Christian self-government). She did a great job reasoning these things and we talked quite informally over the week about it. Then we read the commandments and talked about what each of them meant. We will continue next week.

History
Principle: America's Heritage of Christian Character
Leading idea: Pilgrims had a strong work ethic
We read from "Of Plimoth Plantation," reading some and paraphrasing some. We talked about the leading idea and gave examples from the story. I love reading the account from William Bradford. I recommend using primary sources as much a possible. Don't take a writer's word that something happened the way they say. Find out for yourself. So the more we read from it each year the more familiar we will become. I highlight different things each year. We rehearse the basic account and then I focus on one particular trait of the Pilgrims. This year it is diligence and hard work. Nothing for the notebook, just reading and discussing. Notebook will be next week. Geography has been with history this week, looking at Holland, England and Cape Cod.

Science
Principle: God's creation communicates His Truth and love to man.
Leading idea: God made flowers for us to enjoy
I cannot believe how much I love our science text, The Child's Book of Nature, by Dr. Worthington Hooker. If you are struggling with this subject and you have kids in the elementary ages, you should at least get a copy and see it for yourself. He's a Christian scientist who wrote these books in the late 1800's and they are gentle, godly and terribly educational. I will write more about this in another post. The chapter we read this week was the first chapter on why we love flowers. We created a botany cover page and we also made a violet with tissue paper for our notebooks. They had fun with the paper and glue. She reasoned several things: why nature can teach us about God, how flowers teach us and how she would feel about a plant that taught her things.

Mathematics
Principle: God uses the concept of measurement to express His plans for man. (Jer. 33:22, Gen 14:16)
Leading idea: measurement is an expression of the mathematics language
We are still working on her multiplication tables to 12. She's doing great. Also we are talking about how math is a language and that we must express it precisely or we will communicate the wrong idea (answer).

Economics
Principle: God is the source of all good work
Leading idea: work is good and we need to do it
Now my 7dd is interested in money and how the economy works, so each Wednesday we take time in math to discuss economic principles. This week was work. If you have Mr. Rose's Guide, I took it straight from there. We discussed the importance or work, defined it, and discussed "producing". We are all producers, even if we don't work outside the home. We also read the poem "Work" by Angela Morgan(we printed the first and last stanzas and she drew pictures of tools around it). I include a paragraph about John Smith and Jamestown because it ties in so beautifully (from this web page).

When Captain John Smith was made the leader of the colonialists at
Jamestown, Virginia, he discouraged the get rich quick seekers of gold by
announcing flatly “He who will not work shall not eat”. This rule made Jamestown
the first permanent English settlement in the new world, but work does more than
lead to success; it gives an outlet from sorrow, restrains wild desires, ripens
and refines character, enables human beings to cooperate with God, and when well
done, brings to life it’s consummate satisfaction. Every man is a prince of
possibilities, but by work alone can he become into his kingship.

Work!Thank God for the might of it,
The ardor, the urge, the delight of it.
Work that springs from the heart’s desire,
Setting the brain and the soul on fire,
Oh what is so good as the heat of it,
And what is so glad as the beat of it!
And what is so kind as the stern command,
Challenging brain and heart and hand.

Work!Thank God for the pride of it,
For the beautiful conquering tide of it,
Sweeping the life in it’s furious flood,
Thrilling the arteries, cleansing the blood,
Mastering stupor and dull despair,
Moving the dreamer to do and dare,
Oh, what is so good as the urge of it,
And what is so glad as the surge of it,
And what is so strong as the summons deep,
Rousing the torpid soul from sleep!

Work!Thank God for the pace of it,
For the terrible, keen, swift race of it;
Fiery steeds in full control,
Nostrils a-quiver to greet the goal.
Work, the power that drives behind,
Guiding the purposes, taming the mind,
Holding the runaway wishes back,
Reining the will to one steady track.
Speeding the energies faster, faster,
Triumphing over disaster.
Oh, what is so good as the pain of it,
And what is so great as the gain of it?
And what is so kind as the cruel goad,
Forcing us on through the rugged road?

Work!Thank God for the swing of it,
For the clamoring, hammering ring of it,
Passion and labor daily hurled,
On the mighty anvils of the world.
Oh, what is so fierce as the flame of it?
And what is so huge as the aim of it?
Thundering on through dearth and doubt,
Calling the plan of the maker out.
Work, the Titan; work, the friend,
Shaping the earth to a glorious end,
Draining the swamps and blasting the hills,
Doing whatever the spirit wills-
Rending a continent apart,
To answer the dream of the master heart.
Thank God for a world where none may shirk.
Thank God for the splendor of work!

Princess G enjoyed the poem and drawing the tools. She reasoned that the tool is dictated by the job. And that the right tool makes the work easier. That's a good thing to know!

Literature
Principle: America's Heritage of Christian Character
Leading idea: God prepared people in America to help the settlers
We read the D'Aulaire's Pocahontas. Their illustrations are great and the story is nice. (They don't tell the kids that she dies in England.) We were impressed by her story and how she conducted herself in England, being a girl raised in America in the woods and not in a palace. In England they were all very impressed by her. We were too. Princess G reasoned the leading idea and we discussed the priniple from that.

English was thrown in among the other lessons, with definitions, Daily Grams, and review of the basic parts of speech using text we were reading.

If you are still reading this, I'm impressed. I can't believe how I've gone on and on and on... God is good and we are learning so much. I cannot wait to tell you about Dr. Hooker's book...and the importance of original sources...and more Thanksgiving fun stuff...so much to blog, so little time!

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When I was working on my lessons for the week I was copying a poem by the poet Angela Morgan (which I will share here soon as well). This is another of her poems that is so wonderful I thought I would share it with you. I hope your children enjoy it as well. We try to read all the fine literature we can, especially when it so beautifully glorifies our Creator.

God the Artist by Angela Morgan

God, when you thought of a pine tree,
How did you think of a star?
How did you dream of the Milky Way
To guide us from afar.
How did you think of a clean brown pool
Where flecks of shadows are?

God, when you thought of a cobweb,
How did you think of dew?
How did you know a spider's house
Had shingles bright and new?
How did you know the human folk
Would love them like they do?

God, when you patterned a bird song,
Flung on a silver string,
How did you know the ecstasy
That crystal call would bring?
How did you think of a bubbling throat
And a darling speckled wing?

God, when you chiseled a raindrop,
How did you think of a stem,
Bearing a lovely satin leaf
To hold the tiny gem?
How did you know a million drops
Would deck the morning's hem?

Why did you mate the moonlit night
With the honeysuckle vines?
How did you know Madeira bloom
Distilled ecstatic wines?
How did you weave the velvet disk
Where tangled perfumes are?
God, when you thought of a pine tree,
How did you think of a star?

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