"Education is not the filling of a pail, but the lighting of a fire." William Butler Yeats
The following, by Karen Kindrick Cox, is a Journal Entry, October 8, 1994
Ashley Kindrick at the Botanic Gardens, Claremont, California
It is an art to work with and teach children. It is the highest creative pursuit.
In no other situation are you working with such a majestic medium. The outcomes are so far beyond any skills or application you put into them.
All other finished products or results of our creativity begin to descend from the height of their beauty the minute they are completed.
Not only are they inanimate, but dust, decay, and the elements lessen the illumined glow they once had; the bright newness fades.
Not so with children. The masterpiece is ever fresh and new, not only enhancing what you gave, but creating itself -- the product contributing to the process, ever expanding beyond the limits of even the best of our efforts.
How hallowed is the studio where such work occurs. Do we understand even in minute ways the meaning of this remarkable gift and setting where Heavenly Father places mothers?
Few on earth could contemplate even the first step on the path of creativity that teaches us to be like the Creator. The creative process of nurturing, teaching, inspiring, and inviting our children is the workshop of the gods.
No other place, but our homes, can such a workshop be found. And such a Master Craftsman is always at our side waiting to fill our minds and hearts with every step of the process. Always there at our bidding, we work hand in hand with God to uncover and release the form that has always been, yet cannot be without us.
The following poem is by Jeanne Bradley, --After watching her
daughter, Amber, with her grandson Trenton.
Amber Bradley Spencer and son Trenton
at a museum.
Ode to an Unsung Hero
The troubadours of days gone by
Caroled deeds of heroes past --
Of dragons slain, of cities saved,
Of maidens rescued at long last.But where the hero of today,
Whose sacrifice inspires such praise?
Serving, counting not the cost --
Where such deeds to turn one's gaze?More courage, by far, than they of yore,
She toils on, both day and night.
Her purposed hand on cradle curled,
She knows someday will rule the world.
"Every man gives his life for what he believes, every woman gives her life for what she believes. Sometimes people believe in little or nothing and yet they give their lives for that little or nothing. One life is all we have, and we live it as we believe in living it and then it's gone. But to surrender what you are and live without belief is more terrible than dying -- even more terrible than dying young." Joan of Arc
Greatness is in your blood, and you'll have to square with that someday.
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(c) 2011 Karen Kindrick Cox, Kindrick-Cox Unlimited LLC
