Thoughts About Tots (and their Teachers)

A row of  little shoes, 

Father's Day on Sunday,

...and late last night, tripping over Edison who shouted into the quiet kitchen,

'Hi, I'm Edison, let's sing along with Alphabet Pal!' 

are all part of what inspired this poem.

By the way, thanks to Edison and other alphabet-repeating gizmos

 Tots can belt out the abc's long before they go to school!

Imagine if we drilled them in eternal things the way we do the temporal...

Deut.11:18-21

Remember God’s Words

18Fix these words of mine in your hearts and minds;

 tie them as reminders on your hands and bind them on your foreheads.

  19Teach them to your children, speaking about them when you sit at home

 and when you walk along the road, 

when you lie down and when you get up. 

20Write them on the doorposts of your houses and on your gates, 

21so that as long as the heavens are above the earth, 

your days and those of your children may be multiplied 

in the land that the LORD swore to give your fathers.

Ephesians 6:4

Fathers, do not provoke your children to wrath; 

instead, bring them up in the discipline and instruction of the Lord.

It takes a village of parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles,

 teachers, neighbors, childcare providers, etc.

to raise a child, but to train up a child in the way they should go (Prov.22:6) 

is mostly up to parents (*and grandparents)!

Deuteronomy 4:9

Only be on your guard and diligently watch yourselves, 

so that you do not forget the things your eyes have seen,

 and so that they do not slip from your heart as long as you live. 

*Teach them to your children and grandchildren.

They trust us not to lead them into ways they should not go

They look to us to teach them so much that they want to know

This is no small or simple charge that follows you and I

These tots, so full of innocence and never-ending ‘why’

This is no brief commission we can annul when we choose

Once donned we cannot nonchalantly kick off parent-shoes

Tots are not little long; the stars they are trying to reach

Reflected in their eager eyes, see far more than we teach

The agelessness of truth is a beacon that does not dim

It is no shifting shadow that adapts to wish and whim

The manual for moms and dads is pure and undeterred

The sound and supreme counsel and instruction in God’s Word

To grasp astronomy, ecology, geologic worth/girth

Begins with knowing Who created the heavens and earth

The One who designed galaxies and rolling seas and bugs

Creates each little child we shower with kisses and hugs

The abc’s and one-two-threes are important to learn

But better far than shiny stars these tender triumphs earn

Is the sacred retelling of the One who made us all

No nursery rhyme is He who sees all creatures great and small

Children grow up so fast; Past echoes with the strange replay

Of scenes, that in a child’s childhood, we think, are far away

The feet outgrowing shoes, the boo-boos on elbows and knees

Soon fade into the fond, fine fabric work of memories

Children trust us to lead them; oh, forbid we teach a lie

To tots, so full of innocence and never-ending ‘why’

Who look to us to tell about so much they want to know

Tis no small charge to teach them about God who loves them/us so

© Janet Martin

Teaching children is a moment-ous charge

Small choices can make a big difference!

For instance, what books we choose to read to them.

Yesterday was HOT! 

A great opportunity to enjoy the shade with books

while a child delighted and astounded me with her

intuitive innocence!!

I forgot about photos till we were leaving to tackle other important tasks

on her to-do list; like trike😂💖

Of Wizened Ways...and Innocence

 

"I love it!' squealed the Little One

as she delighted in our weedy, flowery lawn...

...where, pray we never get too 'wise'

To see the world through little eyes

Or ever get too old to reach

For lessons only children teach...

We rise and take our place once more

Where morning breaks and seasons pour

The ink of poetry and such

Before our eyes, beneath our touch

…to steal our breath and test faith’s ‘yes’

Of heartache riddled happiness

Where 'nothing new under the sun'

Vexes a new generation

…and stuns us with the wizened way

Of whispers weaving yesterday

Of cares and prayers oft intertwined

Of ultimatums, God-designed

…where, by the granting of His grace

In the crook of mercy’s embrace

We take our place to do our bit

To honor the Giver of it

…where morning breaks through darksome bars

And rends night’s noose dazzled with stars

The heavens like a bud that spills

A garden above fields and hills

…where innocence and Wizened Way

Compose a baffling interplay

Where roles of teacher-student switch

Until we don’t know which is which

...where, pray we never get too 'wise/wizened'

To see the world through little eyes

Or ever get too old to reach

For lessons only children teach  

© Janet Martin

a little like a bud that spills...

a garden above fields and hills...

Psalm 100:2-5

Worship the Lord with gladness;

come before him with joyful songs.

3 Know that the Lord is God.

It is he who made us, and we are his[a];

we are his people, the sheep of his pasture.

4 Enter his gates with thanksgiving

and his courts with praise;

give thanks to him and praise his name.

5 For the Lord is good and his love endures forever;

his faithfulness continues through all generations.

This Is Not Role-play (prince and princess-training)

Grand-daughter (little princess) turns three today!

Her wish; a princess party! 

So on Sunday mommy, aunties and gramma enjoyed some princess role-play

(quite unlike the training of these little charges)

Let’s be gently kind and patient; let’s be diligent in prayer

For princes and princesses in training need our utmost care

Seems too soon the tender duel between right and wrong begins

Innocence is like a precious jewel; let’s guard it with angel-wings

This is not role-play; this higher calling than most calling is

Prince and princesses require constant correction and kiss

This is no small undertaking; title Mom and Dad imparts

This is Wisdom-in-the-making melting its way deep in hearts

Preconception under fire, fatigue-warped, sweet, would-be joy

Duty dominates desire, all for darling girl and boy

My, oh my, so much explaining; wisdom is a hard-earned crown

While Prince and Princess In Training strain at chains of featherdown

Let’s ask God to guide and bless us; lest we lay a stumbling block

Lest we trip prince and princesses at the mercy of the clock

Let’s love spills and stains and messes; what a gift each moment is

With prince and princesses in a sacred metamorphosis

© Janet Martin

Her sheer delight at her first glimpse of the eagerly anticipated birthday cake

made me wonder if perhaps this is how our faces

will look when at last princes and princesses in training will behold 

the eagerly-anticipated Day/King!👑

a few more fond-moments memories...

Prince/Brother, who received a random-patches 'quilt/comforter' for his birthday 

made by great-gramma (my mom)

 was just as excited as Princess when she received hers

 because they were hoping she would get one too!

Train up a child in the way he should go,
[a]And when he is old he will not depart from it.

Prov.22:6

Propriety of Poetry (Part 1)

At the dentist, while the screen overhead

broadcasted the latest distressing/sobering war updates

the friendly young assistant and I chatted

(while my freezing was setting in😅)

about how we re-appreciate the simplest of things

(yes! even visits to the dentist!)

in the light of everything going on right now

And on that note, the propriety of poetry!

(yes! Even in times like these)

When Job lamented of his troubles

 (with what seems like extremely just cause)

God replied with one of the most poetic powerful passages of scripture

opening Job's and our eyes to His mighty wisdom and providence. 

May the poetry published here always

mirror the majesty of Him

and stir the writer and reader to

dearer awareness and awe

of He by whose grace we go

Over and over children remind me to pause

And take delight in simple things

The photo below I entitle

Poetry of Scrambled Eggs

or

On the Hem of the Master's Robe

Matt.19:14 NIV

Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, 

for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.”

Inside scoop to photo: I looked down to see three curious, upturned faces

wondering at the noise way up on the kitchen counter 

where I was using the egg-beater to scramble the eggs for lunch.

 "Well, said Cook a little dumb-struck at the hint of halos...

 "what's to stop me from bringing it down to your level so you can watch and learn?

 So she did. And yes, everyone who wanted a turn got one. 

(some with a little help of course)😄

Imagine if we turned blind eyes

To penmanship of earth and skies

And could not, from this beveled globe

Perceive the hemline of His Robe

…and did not pause to trace the part

That stills the tempests of the heart

Or with glad eagerness and vim

Of children, did not notice Him

…the Master/Maestro of all poetry

Imagine if we would not see

Beyond the showcase of the frame

To recognize the Author’s Name

…then miss the joy that sings and sings

With thankfulness that His Name brings

And thrill to taste the ink that drips

To earth from heaven’s fingertips

…to tremble like a silver gem

In Time’s momentous diadem

And emphasize the praiseworthy

Vestige of Divine Poetry

The lesser poets of this world

Gape at masterpieces unfurled

Where inkwells of sky, sea and sod

Swell with the magnitude of God

Imagine if we bowed to doubt

And instead, let the stones cry out

And missed the sweet humility

Of listening to God’s poetry

...with childlike wonder to delight

In poems only He can write

Then if a verse should start to brim

What honour then to honour Him

© Janet Martin

this poem had the impetus to run wild!

Thus the title includes (Part 1)

just in case there's more

Job 38:1-3

Then the Lord spoke to Job out of the storm. He said:

 “Who is this that obscures my plans

with words without knowledge?

 Brace yourself like a man;

I will question you,

and you shall answer me...

The Heart of a Child

Yesterday I was so touched and astounded

by the eager astuteness of our Sunday School kids age Gr.1-3,

as they answered the questions they were challenged with!

God bless you, diligent moms and dads aware

of the sacred blip before the heart of a child

becomes the heart of a young man or woman!

Eccles.12:1

Remember now your Creator in the days of your youth, 

Before the difficult days come, 

And the years draw near when you say,

 “I have no pleasure in them”:

The heart of a child is like a pure, precious plot of sod

Pray, there we start to plant the seeds of faith and love of God

For when the soil is tender seeds of goodness gently root

And even in the green of life begins to bear good fruit

The heart of a child is such sweet and sacred innocence

Pray, there with utmost care, we are aware of Influence

To guard its supple yard with caution’s kind integrity

And to remember seeds are strewn by what they hear and see

The heart of a child is not soft and tender very long

How swift the gift of childhood turns into yesterday’s song

Then pray, we nurture well the plot where seeds we scatter grow

For the heart of a child is the most sacred soil we sow

© Janet Martin

Art-Throb

The closing of another chapter in my child-care 'book'...

as tomorrow Little Girl becomes School-girl!

 

"You're so big and I'm so little" She said as she looked at the pictures

And I said 'yes'💕

(why do I feel so small and how has she gotten so big?!)

I wish that I could paint for you

A very lovely work of art

A keep-sake I would give to you

To show the colours of my heart

To paint the perfect shade of joy

And spill with artistic finesse

The preciousness of girl and boy

That fills my heart with happiness

For little tot can teach a lot

To we, weathered by Father Time

And if I could, I’d paint, not jot

The spot that overflows with rhyme

…where poem then, mingled with prayer

My aching art-throb must appease

And ink must etch in frames of air

A Masterpiece of Memories

…for like the bubbles that we blew

An era pops and disappears

Leaving behind for me and you

A gallery of rainbowed spheres

…where laughter lilts and echoes bob

Like butterflies and petal-falls

As pictures waft from love’s art-throb

To hang forever on heart-walls

© Janet Martin

Last week these two left just a few days before becoming proud 

new big sister and brother to a new baby sister!

This 'job' tugs my heart every which way but loose💗💖

(I tried a few times and EVERY time

just as I clicked he looked down😀😘)

...and last but not least Grand-sonny starts school today!

When my daughter sent me the pictures

I told her I don't know whether to laugh or cry💖💖💖

Best-Of-All Blessings

This poem was inspired by the flood of loving grad photos on social-media

from proud moms and dads...

One photo esp. inspired this poem as I stared at the tall, handsome, young man,

 that spent many hours at our house

and seems, was the size of the tots in the photos below not so long ago.

Reminds us to cherish the Here and Now,

the 'noisy joys of girls and boys' 💗

which filled the morning at Janet's/Grandma's house

They start so small;

life's best-of-all-blessings...

The momentum of to...

...and from, is subtle in its tugs

They start so small

Life’s ‘best-of-all-

Blessing' fills arms and hearts

The noisy joys

Of girls and boys

One of love’s sweetest parts

…while sparkling streams

Of hopes and dreams

Become the tender tide

Of smiles and tears

And days and years

That draw them from our side

The momentum

Of to-and-from

Is subtle in its tugs

As moments meld

To seasons felled

Beneath kisses and hugs

Time’s stellar flight

Of morn to night

Turns little people tall

While ‘I love you’

Fashions the flue

Through which youth's contrails fall

And keens us to

An avenue

Trampled, but not with feet

Where blessings of

Life’s best part; love

Makes thankfulness complete

 

© Janet Martin

Eph.5:2

And walk in love, as Christ also has loved us...

 

Dear Child, Why Do We Spend Precious Time With You?

Train up a child in the way he should go,

And when he is old he will not depart from it.

Proverbs 22:6

PAD Challenge 24: 

For today's prompt, write a question poem. 

Bird-watching/learning

Grampa-trampa-line...

Aunty-secrets

Order up; Pine-cone Corndog

puppy-love

Next two photos; photo credit Brittany Ruppert

Uncle antics...

Aunty-acrobats

Why do we walk, talk, read, sing, pray

And spend precious time patiently

With you? Because, sweet child, someday

The sapling will become a tree

How swift the seed begins to sprout

To crucial pliability

Thus, it takes love’s diligent clout

To train the tendrils of a tree

…the kind and gentle touch, the knife

To prune weak offshoots faithfully

So, you can weather storms of life

When you become a full-grown tree

How brief the shaping season is

How swift the tender sapling grows

Why do we scold, hold, hug and kiss

To make you strong when life's wind blows

© Janet Martin

Garden Stroll

PAD Challenge day 18:

For today's prompt, write an ekphrastic poem.

An ekphrastic poem is one in which the poet writes a poem based on another work of art, 

whether that's a painting, photograph, sculpture, mixed media, or other piece of art.

This painting, almost 30 years old was at the time, a splurge!

I purchased it Brand New! (likely from Zellers) 

In 'young mom/homeowner' days that was quite an

extravagance, but I'm so glad I did. I still love it.

 (it was not expensive, by any means but still, an extra)

I feel so much more than meets the eye when I look at it!

(I took the liberties of adding a few extras to the poem,

perhaps the pond and arbor are just beyond the scope of the lens??)😉

It is so much more than flowers

More than birdsong that beguiles

She and Child to garden-bowers

It is Time and Touch and Smiles

She looks down at her sweet daughter

Who does not yet see beyond,

Picket fence, wisteria arbour

Ducklings paddling in the pond

She is not attuned to hours

Or the mementos they spill

Happiness is picking flowers

In a place where time stands still

The world fits inside her pocket

She fits into mother’s smile

They fit into a heart-locket

Forever Mother and Child

© Janet Martin

Yet Hope Lives

 

(my brother's grandson)

In Memory of Cody Troy

August 27, 2019-March 28,2021

Yet Hope Lives

When God reaches down from Heaven

For a child, so sweet and fair

Hearts with sorrow’s pangs are riven

We are tempted to despair

When death claims a life so tender

Grief is raw and tender too

Yet Hope lives as we remember

Where this little angel flew

Safe within the arms of Jesus

Is the little child He lent

For a little while to please us

And make homes and hearts content

Gifting gladness with their laughter

Weaving through grief’s agonies

Fond echoes that linger after

Touch has turned to memories

God ordains our days of passage

Before one has come to be

Some He spares from life’s cruel heartaches

Some must suffer patiently

So, by grace that we are given

We will hope and not despair

When God reaches down from Heaven

For a child so sweet and fair

© Janet Martin

Echo-graphs...

For young people everywhere

Don't Give Up!

No child can outgrow their mother's prayers...

I really pray for our young people right now

with everything shut down

school online etc. 

Many are bored, restless and lonely!

Today, as I watched one of my childcare tots 

totter across the yard all bundled up

it reminded me of a (sort of) long ago world 

that seemed so permanent at the time;

when our own children were little.

Now they are young men and women,

and all this isolation is very hard,

esp. for young men who tend to perhaps not have

as many indoor hobbies as girls might.

(esp. if they play sports)

Please pray for our young people, 

that they use this as an opportunity to grow in their faith

and to become upstanding examples of man and womanhood.

Moms and dads, I guess we need to set good examples first, right?

This poem formed in my head as I watched the tot with one eye

and the little girl trying to touch the sky with her toes

from the swing I was pushing, with the other!

Photo Echographs...

They scatter on December's yard 

Like tatters of an old postcard 

And decoupage a mother’s heart 

In a collage of mem’ry-art 

They waft like echoes on the air 

A soft impression of Somewhere 

Entangled in a mother’s sigh 

Those whisper-grins of days gone by 

They sparkle in fresh fallen snow 

Footfalls muffled by come and go 

To mirror in a mother’s tear 

Reflections of sweet yester-year 

They tug and hug and ebb and surge 

Where past, present and future merge 

To urge within a mother’s prayer 

A tender plea for daily care 

© Janet Martin

For Kids and Parents (of all ages)

We make laundry, 

Lots of messes 

Happiness’s 

Finest parts 

We make parents 

Laugh and lament 

We melt popsicles 

And hearts 

We make Ordinary 

Sacred

We make headaches ...

We are loud 

We make parents 

Lose their patience 

We make parents 

Feel so proud 

We make dishes 

And the wishes 

Of mommies 

And daddies come true 

We make noise 

And joys 

And sorrows 

Cause that's what 

Girls and boys do 

We make sticky 

Hugs and kisses 

We make adults 

Children too 

We make everything 

So worth it 

With soft, chubby, 

‘I wuv/love you’ 

Did I mention 

We make messes 

We make parents 

Find their knees 

While we make 

Best Happiness-es 

While we make 

Best Memories 

© Janet Martin 

I wrote this with one on my lap 

Squeezing me with hugs and kisses and one 

Beside me who, after I read 

Part of the poem 

pleaded non-stop 

‘ple-e-e-se may I have a melty popsicle? 

I love melty popsicles, ple-e-e-e-ase! 

Sometimes ya’ just gotta 

Strike while the iron is hot! 

Now let’s see if we have any popsicles! 

Yes!

So they had those while I posted this,

then Little boy climbed back up on my chair

 put his arms around my neck and right now he

is hiccupping loudly in my ear😍😂😇

(must be that popsicle:)