Books I Like

I have no memory of not being able to read.  According to my family I started in early and never quit.  We didn't have a tremendous number of books in the house, but my mom and I made frequent trips to the library, usually on Monday nights when Dad worked late and we went out for what we now call a "girls night out."

The best part of our library trips was the freedom to browse the children's section all by myself.  Now I'm a mom and I just realized that my mom was probably enjoying browsing the adult section all by herself.  But I digress...  The worst part was when I didn't check out enough books to make it until the next trip. Dang.

The last big book I read was Les Miserables by Victor Hugo.  It took the better part of my first pregnancy and I frequently discussed the finer points of the book with my unborn son. Now I read all the time, but the books usually contain a fast talking pigeon or Jedi Knight.  I miss having the time to absorb an entire novel at a few sittings.  Most of my adult reading falls under the excuse of "book review."

Still there are Books I Like. There's no pattern here and it's by no means a complete list.  But these are books that resonated somehow.  I've either read them multiple times or think about them as the door to which a genre opened.  They're a mixed bunch: Pride and Prejudice,  Fahrenheit 451,  A Christmas Carol, Ender's Game, Time and Again, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, This Present Darkness...

On a shelf of our bookcase sits a collection of children's Books I Like:  The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe; From the Mixed Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler; Alice in Wonderland;  The Phantom Tollbooth.  They're "newer" books; my childhood copies are long worn away by repeated page turning, so these replaced them in college. Old friends--and I look forward to the day when my kids can meet them too.

One of the Good Guys

It's a conversation I'd hoped we'd be able to avoid until he was older.  But television commercials, playground talk, and the natural curiosity of a 4-year-old forced my hand.  Last week we began addressing one of the mysteries of life.

Is Anakin Skywalker a good guy or a bad guy?

When I was a kid (and I love saying that) life was simpler.  Darth Vader was bad. Period.  Sure, Luke ultimately saved him from the Emperor and they were reunited as a redeemed father and son.  But Vader was the villain.

Then along came episodes 1-3.  We see Anakin grow from a cute little boy into a lovesick teenager into a vengeful Jedi.  He's the hero--albeit a doomed one-- and Anakin doesn't become Vader until the very end of chapter 3.  As an adult I can appreciate the epic story cycle. I understand the complexities of character and the symbolism of fall and redemption.

D doesn't care about complexity and he hasn't seen any of the movies. He just wants to know where Anakin stands. When it comes time to play pretend with his buddies, he wants to play one of the good guys.

I pray that both of my sons always want to be the good guys.  I love their gentle hearts and desire to do good and be the heroes.

So last week, I punted.  Anakin starts out good, but he turns into a bad guy later.  We moved on to Obi-wan Kenobi, Luke Skywalker, and Han Solo. Safe territory.

Satisfied for now, D's moved on to Transformers, a show that debuted after I'd graduated from high school.  I guess that's a subject we'll study together.

A Win for My Brother

Last Tour-related post for this year. We've turned our TV off and it's quiet once again. Or what passes for quiet in our house.

We had a nice, teachable moment for DW this past weekend. Though he still can't figure out what all the fuss is about--he knows what "bicycle race" means: somebody wins, somebody loses, and at some point you get to ride fast.

We watched Frank and Andy Schleck race with the leaders this year. They're brothers from Luxembourg and are very close on and off the track. Though big brother Frank has worn the yellow jersey in past years, younger brother Andy was competing for this year's overall lead. Andy also wore the white jersey--best young rider. The Schleck brothers are expert climbers and excel at mountain stages. On the climb up the Col de la Colombiere, Frank paced Andy up the steep mountain. Frank set such a quick tempo they left almost everyone else behind. Andy stayed on Frank's wheel until the closing kilometers when he took over the lead to give Frank a rest. At the finish line, Andy let his brother pass him and cross the line in first place.

Andy let his brother win to thank him for all his hard work on the mountain. But they shared the victory.

The lessons weren't lost on big brother DW. Brothers work together. Brothers help each other. Brothers share. And it's good to step aside and let your brother win. Big brother Frank won the stage; little brother Andy kept his 2nd place overall lead and white jersey prize. At the finish line they both cheered. After the race--a big hug.

Thank you, Shleck brothers.

How good and pleasant it is when brothers live together in unity! -- Psalm 133:1

Acting on Impulse

Vacation Bible School ran its high energy course through our church last week. It’s a big production with over 100 volunteers (including those who set up and take down). Attendance hovered around 250 singing, dancing, chattering children from age 3 through 5th grade. This year’s theme, Crocodile Dock, somehow combined down home Southern swamp fun with Moses and the Passover story.

We five crew leaders led our combined group of 27 primary grade children through the daily stations of Bible, snack, video lesson with Chadder Chipmunk, crafts, and games. Our main tasks: guide the way, answer questions, and keep the group together.

My crew included one child with, um, well let’s just call them problems with impulse control. Loose communion cup holder in the pew? Kick that baby right off there. Feel like wrestling? Take down in the chapel. See something you want? Go after it. He agonized over waiting even one minute for something he wanted right now. Since this is my 2nd year shepherding this particular child I knew that somewhere in the midst of his chaotic mind, the gospel was taking root. Praise God.

Throughout the Exodus story we see Moses and the Israelites acting on impulse. Lose your temper? Kill the Egyptian overseer. (Ex. 2:12) Lose patience? Make a golden calf. (Ex. 32) Angry with the people? Can’t wait for God? Strike the rock at Meribah. Twice for good measure. (Num. 20) Our curriculum didn’t cover these stories, but I was reminded of them as the week wore on. Our sinful human nature doesn’t want to wait. We want it and we want it now.

This week I’m reading through the book of Proverbs. It’s a 31-chapter book on controlling our impulsive nature.

Watch your temper.

Hold your tongue.

Seek wisdom.

Wait on God.

Be patient.

Be still.

Listen.

True in Moses’ time. True in Solomon’s time. True today.

Shalom, y’all.

A Date with a Calendar

Now that school’s out, we don’t have the thrice weekly routine of getting ready and heading out to preschool. My boys are feeling a little lost.  Regular activities defined their days during the school year.  They felt secure knowing that Monday meant school and gymnastics and Wednesday meant library and church. Summer is a little more freewheeling and I’m not one for scheduling every minute of the day. So we needed something to help us keep track of our time.

Enter the kids’ calendar.

DLTK is a fantastic website, with printable coloring sheets and activities for young children, including some excellent Bible activities.  DLTK’s calendar page  allows us to customize a monthly calendar by theme and language. It’s simple. Choose the month, year, title image and click create.   We’re using the summer calendar theme and selected a sand castle for June.

Each morning we look at the calendar and place a sticker in the square for the day.  We talk about the name of the month, the day of the week and what we’re going to do.  I added in our regular weekly activities with color-coded symbols (cross for church, wavy blue line for swim).  We’re using our calendar to count down to much anticipated events like Vacation Bible School and family vacation.

As a bonus, we’re reviewing math skills by counting to 30 (or 31) and repeating the names of the days of the week. By the end of August, we’ll all be ready for preschool to begin again.

Writing in the Margins

Every once in awhile I pay a visit to Pat's Porch--a peaceful place maintained by fabulous, fellow Floridian Pat Guy.

The other day she posted about writers who try to keep up a "writing schedule" with children in the house.  She spoke of such mysteries as a "writing zone" and "mommy me-time".

I find that, with a 2-year-old and 4-year-old in the house, I'm often writing in the margins of life. For instance, they're currently in a post-Chuck E. Cheese-party coma right now. So, after putting in a load of laundry and loading the dishwasher, I have time to make a quick blog entry.

Or--after everyone's been fed, bathed, brushed, and put to bed--I might have time to do some work on Ruth. If I'm not too tired.

Some days I wish I could go to a writer's conference or even an 8-hour workshop in town.  But I'm in a season of life where I can't get away for one reason or another.  So it will have to wait. They're growing up fast.

For now I consider myself fortunate to have any time to write at all.  It exercises my brain and brings me joy. And, when I start to feel a little sorry for myself, I am reminded that I've written 2 books in the last 4 years. Not published, not polished, but written.  Then there are the few articles and winners in the FaithWriters challenges. Not too shabby for a busy mom.

I am writing. I am learning. I'm making notes.  I'm building muscle. I'm laying foundation for whatever God has in store. I'm where He's called me to be.

So I'll publish this post, grab my laundry basket, and wait for the next bit of free time to open up.

Shalom, y'all.

Full Heart

Today I’m participating in "Monday Manna," hosted by Joanne Sher at An Open Book.  Visit her blog for links to more discussion on 1 John 2:15.

Do not love the world or anything in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him. 1 John 2:15

I have a bag that I pack for swimming lessons. Since the kids are starving after they get out of the pool, I load one center compartment with drinks and snacks.  Another compartment carries my diaper changing kit. The zippered pocket secures items that I don’t want to fall out: wallet, cell phone, swim tickets for lessons.  Outside pockets store easy-access items: keys, sunglasses, sunscreen. But other items sink into corners of the bag: toy cars, paper towels, discarded ads from the mailbox, empty snack wrappers.

Sometimes my bag is so full of non-essential items that I barely have room for towels and swimsuits.

If I’m not careful, I’ll fill my heart with the desires of the world: possessions in one pocket, relationships in another, my to-do list stuffed around the outside. Pile in the empty wrappers of chatter and worry and soon I realize that I’m filled with the world--not the Word. I’ve made no room for the love of the Father.

I cleaned out my swim bag and discarded all the garbage. Now it’s packed with our main goal in mind--swimming.  First in--towels, clothes, and goggles.  They fill the bag, but since I’ve thrown out the garbage, there’s plenty of room left over for the things a mom needs to carry. 

When I ask God to clean out my heart and throw out the garbage--the desires of the world--and put Him in first, I find that He fills my heart. But there’s also room for family and fellowship, a purposeful life and peace.

Shalom, y’all.

Happy Mother's Day

Fevers, fall-downs, and funny odors--this was one of those weeks when I was waist deep in momminess.  

What I've learned this week:

Potty training videos are useful, but the songs are a bit too catchy.  Hope I don't start singing "No more diapers for me" in the grocery store checkout line.

JW doesn't want to be a "big kid". He did ask to drive the car.  Not until you're potty trained, young man. 

Mommy kisses heal boo-boos, especially the invisible ones.

Children can run a 102.5 fever, complain of chills and tummy ache--and be up running around like a maniac 2 hours later.

Children can run a low grade fever and need to visit the pediatrician--ear infection

Love is the best Mother's Day gift.  At bedtime tonight, DW thanked God for his mommy. It doesn't get any better than that.

Happy Mother's Day.

Play it Again, Mom

The chocolate Easter bunnies are a happy memory.  Empty plastic eggs appear to have multiplied and hidden themselves in various corners of my house. The baskets are holding other treasures now, but one of their Easter goodies still retains its luster.

I bought the boys personalized CDs from Christianbook.com.  #1 son received "Jesus Loves You" which rocks like a praise band.  #2 son has "Fun Time Bible Stories" which giggles and marches and hums along at a toddler tempo.  They've been in steady rotation ever since Easter Sunday.  The guys are fascinated by hearing their names spoken and sung aloud.

"I love to spend time with you. It's my favorite thing.

J--- you make me want to sing.

Today is going to be great fun

Spending time with you." (From Fun Time Bible Stories)

One day, when I picked up DW from school, his teacher said she had a touching story to share.  At lunchtime he'd turned to one of his buddies and said, "I got a CD for Easter. It says 'I'm precious in God's sight.'"

Worth every penny.

Banana-Bran Muffins

Don't touch those bananas--I mean for them to turn brown.  Today we made "Banana Bran Muffins", one of our favorite snacks.  The basic recipe is from Mommy Made*and Daddy too!  Home Cooking for a Healthy Baby & Toddler, but I've tweaked it over the years.

It's a big ol' plate of happy....

Banana-Bran Muffins

Makes approx. 12 full size or 24 mini muffins

Dry ingredients:

1 cup unbleached all-purpose flour, sifted

1/2 cup wheat bran (I've also used wheat germ)

1/2 tsp salt

1 tsp baking soda

1/2 tsp cinnamon

1/4 tsp nutmeg

Wet ingredients:

1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, melted

1/3 cup light brown sugar

1 1/4 cups pureed ripe banana (about 3-4 medium-large bananas)

2 eggs

1/2 tsp vanilla extract

Add ins (optional)

Semi-sweet chocolate chips

Nuts

Preheat oven to 350 degrees and prepare muffin tins (lightly grease or line with paper baking cups).

Stir dry ingredients together in one bowl.  Use a larger bowl to mix the wet ingredients together.  Pour the dry ingredients into the wet ingredients. Add your add-in(s) and stir until just blended. 

Fill muffin tins about 2/3 full.  Bake 15-20 minutes--until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.  

My recipe says they'll keep for a few days.  We've never had any stay around that long!

Bunny Munch Baskets

The preschool Easter party was this week and I signed up to bring a “fruit/vegetable” snack.  Great.  Now all I needed was an idea.

An Internet search revealed that most of the featured snacks for Easter involved eggs or some sort of carbo-sweet. Wrong food groups.  So I invented this basket of bunny food to add some fun nutrition to our festivities.

The basket is simple: a paper cupcake liner.  I put coconut in a baggie with a few drops of green food coloring. A few shakes later I had edible grass to line the baskets.

I filled the baskets with colorful fruits and veggies that a bunny might eat. I like the contrast between orange and green and we all know that bunnies like carrots, so matchstick carrots went in first.  Grapes, apples, and cantaloupes are on sale this week, but there’s no end to what can be included: strawberries, thin celery sticks, blueberries. Slice the larger fruits into bite sized pieces.  I cut and prepared everything in advance, so assembly only took a few minutes.

There was a little something for everyone.  Some kids passed on the coconut, but eyes sparkled at the colorful array of goodies.

One Little Palm Branch

Today is Palm Sunday. We've been talking about Easter for weeks, mostly learning the story and building vocabulary.  Passion Week is noisy and confusing. There's talk of death and crucifixion.  People are waving palm branches and shouting. There's a "last" supper and betrayal with a kiss.  Heady stuff for a 4-year-old, but he wants to hear it again and again.

Yesterday he cried because he fell asleep before his Bible story CD was finished.  "I wanted to get to Easter!"  He'd listened patiently through creation, the flood, Joseph, Moses, Daniel, and Jonah. Just about the time that 12-year-old Jesus was left at the Temple, my guy fell sound asleep.  So he missed Easter.

Today he carried one little palm branch around the sanctuary as the choir and congregation sang Hosannas.  It was noisy, a little confusing, and he needed to follow the big girl who carried the cross.  But he got to be part of the story--waving his palm branch for Jesus.

Plenty to do this week: Easter parties, egg hunts, chocolate bunnies, baskets, even a birthday celebration.  Through it all we'll try to stay awake for the big moment, so we don't miss what we've been waiting for.  We'll not miss Easter.

Painted Toast

Today's rainy day activity was Painted Toast.  It's simple, inexpensive, and easy to clean up--three things that make it popular with this mom.

Here's how: 

1. Put 2 Tbs. milk into bowls--one bowl for each color
   
2. Add 5 drops food coloring into each bowl
   
3. Stir
   

We made blue, yellow, green, and red (pink, actually).  The paint is a deliciously creamy color and completely edible. We used small paint brushes that I keep aside for food use.

Once the paint is mixed--the sky's the limit.  My 2-year-old enjoyed applying paint, mostly in one spot. My 4-year-old made rainbows, a face, and one piece that blended colors to make purple and orange. Even mom got into the act with a butterfly and a self-portrait.

Then it's off to the toaster.  We like our bread lightly toasted and the colors stayed bright.  The bread was so pretty that they passed on the jelly and enjoyed it plain.  

Their verdict?  "Yummy!"

Fay Watch

Are you evacuating?  That was the question up and down our street this morning.  I took the boys out for a bike ride down the cul-de-sac and ran into a couple of neighbors.  One family has a dog and they’ve already made hotel reservations on higher ground.  Another couple is elderly and they’ve already decided to go. 

We went to the mall.

If there’s one thing I knew this morning, I knew that I had to wear the boys out if I was going to get anything done this afternoon.  They had a good time. Now they’re napping.  I just finished cleaning off the lanai, cleaning part of the garage, and securing bikes, toys, and garden decorations.

Who got the better end of the deal?

The 2 p.m. advisory shows Fay’s track heading into Ft. Myers or Charlotte Harbor, well south of us.  That can change. Local media says that we might feel winds on Tuesday afternoon/evening approaching 70 mph with 4 to 8 inches of rain.  Most of the wind and rain is on the eastern side, so Pinellas County might just escape the brunt of the storm.

Right now we have fluffy clouds and thunderheads building.  I took a photo from our back yard (those swings have to be taken down).  It’s of the NE toward Tampa and not part of Fay, but we should start to have some outer rain bands this evening.

Anyway, my garage is almost clean enough to park both cars in it.  My laundry is almost done. The lanai is swept and the toys are picked up.  First a break, then I’ll tidy the house.

Bruce reminded me of a verse that’s been running through his mind the last couple of days.  It was the key verse from a sermon 2 weeks ago.  A good thought for today.

The eternal God is your refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms. (Deut. 33:27a)

This Little Light of Mine

“Can I use the flashlight, mommy?”

We were playing our usual afternoon game of dinosaur race. The rules are simple: each of us has a dinosaur, the dinosaurs race, DW’s dinosaur wins.  From there it gets complicated, but we usually get “trophies” which, for some reason, are kept in the crawl space beneath my bed.  The trophies themselves are invisible, but are described to me in detail as DW hands them to me.

After opening the door at the foot of our captain’s bed, DW prepared to crawl through to fetch whatever trophies his imagination devised.  I gave him the small flashlight to use and off he went in search of prizes.

“Mommy, come and see.”

I crawled around to the head of the bed to peek underneath.  In the illuminated space behind my bed, I saw dust bunnies. No, not bunnies. These were dust dinosaurs.  Our cats also like the cozy hiding places between the underbed drawers. I could have knitted a small cat from all the fur.

The flashlight illuminated everything.  All the fur, dust, fluff, and fuzz from, well who knows how long, clumped in piles beneath the bed.  I’m a good housekeeper, but I’m certain I haven’t vacuumed behind the bed since I had the kids.

Out came the vacuum and all the attachments.  DW enthusiastically held the flashlight while we sucked up dust tyrannosaurs and dust velociraptors by the dozen.  

On JW’s last visit to the pediatrician I was asked if he mimicked what we said or did, a normal milestone for an 18-month-old.  I looked at my little 30 lb sumo wrestler of a toddler and remembered all the ways he imitates his brother, dad, and me.

Big brother has taught JW a few wrestling moves which he now uses to pin his slightly heavier brother to the ground.  JW can pull a serious face, eyebrows cocked at odd angles, that looks so much like his daddy it’s funny. His baby voice chirps along when I sing and he throws in a familiar word or two right on cue.

That’s all well and good, but I know they’re also catching us at our bad moments. We’re not a four-letter-word family, but we have plenty to say about the bad drivers we encounter on the road.  I’m waiting for the day one of them rolls his eyes at me.  I already hear my “no” reflected back, usually by JW. (Although it’s really cute and dramatic. Nooooooo.) I need to erase the word “stupid” from my vocabulary for awhile. (oops, there’s that eye roll again)

Nothing throws a light on our words and actions like our children do.  They grasp their flashlights with their little hands and shine them everywhere, even on the dust bunnies...er, dinosaurs.

I’d better get out the vacuum.

Didn’t I Just Clean This House?

We had a rite of passage in the library for new pages, the folks who put away all the returned books.  They truly became part of the family of staff when they made the observation, “Didn’t I just clear this cart?”  After we finished laughing we assured them that yes, they had just put all those books away. In the meantime, thirty more people had come in and returned books, filling the cart once more.

Library work is not for those who like closure.  New employees who thought they’d actually finish their work in a day, a week, a month were quickly disappointed.  Our job was to keep one step ahead of chaos.  Like Mickey, the Sorcerer’s Apprentice, in Disney’s Fantasia, the circulation desk staff bravely tried to maintain order as our patrons passed through our doors carrying armloads of books like so many pail-toting brooms.

Now my pail-toting brooms are toy-toting boys who manage to create endless piles of dishes and cups to clean, laundry to do, and messes to straighten. Like our library’s patrons they ask interesting questions, have a boundless curiosity, and love to read.  There’s no closure, only the change of seasons and the growth and deepening of lives. 

So here I sit, having just cleaned the house. Again.  I’ll do it again and again, trying to keep one step ahead of chaos. I know better than to ask, “didn’t I just clean this?”

While I cleaned I plugged in the iTouch and listened to the album at the top of the list.  As I scrubbed, Charlie Peacock sang 

I have got to clean house


Gotta make my bed


Gotta clear my head


It's gettin' kinda stuffy in here


Smells sorta funky too


Like monkeys at the zoo;

...

Spirit come flush the lies out

One of the things I love about Sunday morning worship is the chance to sit quietly and clean house, especially on communion Sunday.  The weekly grind fills my mind and soul with gunk as surely as those brooms filled Mickey’s master’s workshop with water.  I treasure one entire hour (!) of reflection, confession, and praise as my Master puts things back in order. He never asks “didn’t I just clean this?”  He welcomes my confession and strengthens me as I confess my weaknesses to him. I know that one day there will be closure, for there won’t be any housework in heaven.  But for now I’m thankful for the one in whom there is no chaos, the one who washes me white as snow.  

A magic eraser, indeed.

The Write Thing

Two hours.  I knew I'd have two whole hours to myself to work on Ruth.

Daddy took DW to his first baseball game.  Baby J and I would have dinner, playtime, then bath and bed. The balance of the evening (until the guys got home) belonged to me.  I'd even watched the Tour in the afternoon so that tonight would be distraction free.  I planned to spend two hours writing.

But unfinished tasks got in the way.  My eBay auction was doing well.  Very well. I needed to pull together clothing for the next auction. But what's this?  More summer clothes the baby's outgrown. I realized I had another mixed lot of toddler clothes. Hmm. I need the cash and summer's half over. Better get this lot online now.

Task #1 - get a box of items listed, photographed, weighed and ready to go on the auction block

Then there's Sunday dinner.  I could leave the preparation until Sunday afternoon, but DW has a birthday party to attend after church.  Our neighbor is turning three. The party will be a blast. And my spinach cheese manicotti tastes much better if it's prepped the night before it's cooked.

Task #2 - make ahead spinach manicotti so I can play (not cook) on Sunday

Task #3 - wrap presents so that I'm not a hurried, crabby Mommy on Sunday afternoon

There goes my two free hours.

But, as I stood in my kitchen stuffing manicotti, I realized that tonight's tasks were best done tonight. What took me two (well, 3) hours to do by myself would take much longer if I had to work around my family.  My auction ended well.  Hopefully the next batch of clothes will exceed expectations.  Dinner tomorrow will be delicious. Best of all, I can focus on worship and family on the Sabbath instead of unfinished tasks.

Tonight's jobs weren't the write thing to do. But they were the right thing to do.

The Arsenic Hour

Ahhh, it’s that transitional time in the afternoon lovingly dubbed “The Arsenic Hour”.  This is not an original term, but one borrowed from The Mother’s Almanac and brought into our family vocabulary by my sister.

Between the nap and the twilight

When blood sugar is becoming lower,

Comes a pause in the day's occupations,

That is known as Arsenic Hour.

—Marguerite Kelly and Elia Parsons, The Mother's Almanac I, 1975

Kelly and Parsons appear to have taken a page from Longfellow’s poem “The Children’s Hour” (1863)

Between the dark and the daylight,
When the night is beginning to lower,
Comes a pause in the day's occupations,
That is known as the Children's Hour.

No amount of naps or high quality snacks can stave off this phenomenon in our house.  This is the time that tests Mom’s soul. I have yet to figure out how to prepare dinner with one wailing child on each leg. So I reach for the remote control.  Today’s child-calming feature is the movie Cars. Thank you, Lightning McQueen.

Interestingly enough, there’s another type of late afternoon meltdown experienced by Alzheimer’s and dementia patients--Sundowning.  Lengthening shadows and end-of-day fatigue trigger a type of confusion that leads to inappropriate behaviors and increasing agitation.

It appears that God created our bodies to need a time of rest, no matter what age. Just like we need a good night’s sleep and possibly even a daily nap, we also need to take a break from our busy lives and refuel. Otherwise, let the cranky times begin.

So a quick prayer for Mommy and a kiss for the kids.  Daddy’s coming home soon.

Bless the Children

When I put the boys to bed tonight DW asked for "a blessing." On nights that I remember I place my hand on his head and say, "May God bless you with the ability to hear his voice." I was watching the Jewish Jewels program one day and the mother said that she prayed this over her children at night. What a blessing.

That program made me curious about the blessings that Jewish parents say over their children. On Friday nights fathers (and sometimes mothers) place hands on their sons and say, "May God make you like Ephraim and Menashe." Why Ephraim and Manasseh? The following information is from Aish.com

• "Ephraim and Menashe were the first brothers among our forefathers to live without rivalry."
• "Ephraim and Menashe were brothers who lived in harmony, for their life focus was the highest example of working for good for their community and people."
• "Of the 12 sons and their families, these two were the only ones to grow to maturity outside of the Land of Israel. Yet despite great odds, they still remained steadfast in their commitment to Judaism. We cannot always guarantee that our children will not be exposed to a negative environment. We therefore give them the blessing to be like those who were not tempted by their immoral surroundings and maintained their ethical and righteous behavior."

I hope that my two sons can live together without rivalry, look to the needs of others, and be committed to serving Christ all their lives in spite of the world. What a blessing that would be!

How good and pleasant it is when brothers live together in unity. (Psalm 133:1)