"Today I didn't do school."

"Did you write in your journal today?"

The children's journal is a personal record of the day's educational activities.

She looks at me.

"Today I didn't do school."

What does she mean? Mentally I reflect on the day.

We did math. I'm not sure how many lessons it was. We read and we sang. They worked on their craft. The cows in the neighbour's field were inspected (again!). They wrote, made lunch and the list goes on.

What does she mean by "school"? What am I teaching her about education?

How deeply have we imbibed society's definitions? When did we examine all the givens we have accepted and say "they are mine"?

God created the mind. He provided for its development. In the home, in the field, through life's duties and its pleasures and through holy Scripture, God gives us His lessons, impressing our hearts and minds.

What if we didn't sit at a desk in a classroom today? A life centered in God is a life of completeness.

How does a child write "God's class" in the journal?

That face

From Luke 2:49: "And the child grew and waxed strong in spirit, filled with wisdom and the grace of God was upon Him."

I was just trying to imagine the face of Jesus, expectantly looking at Mary as she instructed Him, as they ate together and as she taught Him the lessons of life.

I saw it in my child. The face of innocence and childish joy. The children grow, their minds expand and the powers develop.

She washes up now and wipes the benches.

She eats the meal of raw fruits blended together. (We indulged ourselves in bananas. They have been so expensive since Hurricane Larry. These were tiny and a bargain. Threw in a few mangoes and cut into the whizz the flesh of a fresh coconut.)

And that look is in her eyes.

"Mum, can you guess where I am in my Bible reading?"

"Mum, where is Lebanon?" I tell her that will find it together in the atlas.

She composes and corrects her post on her sister's forum.

Today we've been to town for a flute lesson. There was new vocabulary to learn and tears to conquer. That sound just wasn't coming. The mirror at home might help to get her mouth shape and right. We are going back for another lesson tomorrow.

In town the girls noticed a neighbour walk past. They stopped him and we chatted about the cows and their calves.

One of the cows is overdue.

"They just come when they come," he said.

Sounds like the way human births are!

He told them about the foal that he rescued from its sack at its birth only yesterday.

"Can the girls have a look at the foal?"

He nodded and told me where they will find it.

Then we talked about the rain and how much fell.

We need to find our rain gauge.

The last stop was to buy blank card paper to make a card. Another project about to start.

What will we do this afternoon? Oh, maybe math and that flute again before tomorrow.

The sky has a special atmoshere about it, being the hues I would love to paint - if I could! It is the colour of clouds filled with rain but not threatening yet. Through the kitchen window I see banana leaves blowing and hear that soft sound of rustling and sometimes the rattle of roofing as it lifts and falls ever so slightly.The clean washing beckons. Boxes of fruit need rearranging. Some jobs for the girls and I to do together.

The mood is right for some art, some quiet reading.

And some praying that God may put His grace upon them.