Laurel Elisabeth Stevens

This morning on our walk I delighted in the cool, fresh air.  “Oh, it’s so lovely!” I exclaimed to the children and the birds and the dog, thinking that it will soon end.  The days will come when 8 AM is already too hot and humid for a walk. The weather put me in such a good mood that I thought we ought to have some education.  “Kids, remember that verse you are learning in Latin . . .In principio erat Verbum.  Et verbum erat apud Deum . . .” They nodded, squinting in the sun, not looking at me.  “That’s John 1:1.” I told them.  “But do you know it in English?” Immediately Elisabeth began reciting, “In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God.” We were rounding the corner and Henry looked up at me and said, “That sounds kind of boring.” What could I do but laugh?  The words that delight and confound grownups simply sound boring to kids.  Maybe he was more interested in “putting on the armor of ...

The chapel at Calvin College in Grand Rapids, Michigan is a chapel in the round.  The wooden ceiling shined golden and watched in expectation as the writers and readers and lovers of the Word poured in.  I waited expectantly too, surrounded by goodness and hope.  I saw the poet, Scott Cairns, recognizing him from a book I’d quickly browsed an hour ago.  With his downward eyes and a black binder tightly clutched I imagined that he would not appreciate all of us waiting to hear from him, as though we were interrupting what he really wanted to do--write.  A woman came in and sat beside him, greeting him with a smile and a few chatty words.  A few moments later when Mr. Cairns went up to the podium the woman jumped in surprise as she realized that she had been sitting next to such a man who could command words that delve into the heart.  Mr. Cairns stood and blessed us, calling us to worship in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.  He...

The following are some remembrances from our time in London where my parents have been living for nearly a year.   I wrote this in September towards the end of our month long visit. John was with us for three weeks and by this time was back in the U.S. It's Monday evening.  My parents are at choir practice and the kids are outside playing.  I can't see or hear them because they are in the garden, and my parents' house doesn't have a high enough window that looks out to the garden.  But it's quite a large garden, and they bring a ball and play with some kids from neighboring houses, and I'm  content that the kids have found things to do outside and on their own.  I didn't expect to find that in London. St. Paul's Cathedral as seen from the Tate Modern (You've seen this one in Mary Poppins). We've been here for a month now, with a week away in Hannover visiting friends.  Now as I face our last few days here and the task of returning to rout...

Summer travels took a detour this year, and in July the kids and I wended our way through hilly back roads of Missouri and found Laura and Almanzo Wilder’s little house in the Ozarks .  I’d heard a long time ago that there was a museum there, but I thought, “Missouri?  Laura never lived in Missouri!”  But she did.  It was not a move taken lightly.  After their marriage, written about in These Happy Golden Years , Laura and Almanzo suffered greatly in De Smet, South Dakota: they had lost an infant son, lost their livelihood in a drought, and their property in a fire.  So when their daughter Rose was seven years old, and Laura had saved $100 from sewing jobs, Laura and her husband packed up what was left, said tender farewells to Laura’s parents, and began the long trek to Mansfield, Missouri. In the house in Mansfield there is a picture of Laura and Almanzo taken in 1942.  Laura is 75 and Almanzo is 85.  Since they are the only two in the p...

If you can laugh, it will be okay.  If you can chuckle at the huge water stain on your ceiling and the fact that the AC quit just when you had 12 people in the house, and at least one guest spending the night, then it will be okay. So far I’m still chuckling. . .but then again, the downstairs AC is working. Niobe, our chocolate lab has been with us three months now.  She’s grown comfortable enough to bark at every guest and ringer of the doorbell, be they 5 or 40.  But she’s still a bit confused about where to go when she needs to do her business.  A few weeks ago she was using the upstairs carpet as her spot of grass, oh, about every other day.  That didn’t do well for my view of her.  I was getting really annoyed, if not angry.  She only did it when the kids were upstairs, and I would hear, “Niobe! No!  oh no . . .Niobeee!” That’s my cue to grab three rags and the carpet spray.  Blot, blot, spray, spray, blot.  Grumble, g...

While eating chocolate cake in honor of Tim’s birthday, Elisabeth asked if we could watch “A Bit of Bitsy”--a collection of video clips of Elisabeth at about age 20 months.  It’s one of many treasures that Tim put together.  A few months later, he made a video of his first nephew, Timothy, entitled “A Tat of Timothy,” and we chuckled because Tim got his letters mixed up, meaning to call it “A Tad of Timothy.” Something we lost when Tim died was a family chronologer.  We all enjoyed his artistry and humor when it came to videography and film editing.  Before a trip to England when he planned to use his video camera, he emailed us a list of rules for the camera which included most importantly, “Pretend the camera isn’t there.” I’m sure I don’t know the half of what was involved, but I know that he and Kristen spent a lot of time getting the touches just right and finding the right music.  He even had a series of titles, film company names, credits, and even ...

My nine year-old girl and six year-old boy have enjoyed discussing what they want to be when they grow up.  It’s been a hot topic of late, and when kids get to talking about it, there’s no limit.  Elisabeth’s list changes from day to day, but most recently she wants to be -a vulcanologist -a biology teacher  -a teacher at a museum who teaches kids about animals,  -a veterinarian -a writer, or -a veterinarian who writes books Henry also wants to be a writer, or, if he can figure out how to make money this way, a lego collector.  As a writer he will write 3 books.  One will be 435 pages long, one 646 pages, and one 108.  The topics range from planet exploration to large dinosaurs. Being the proud parent I am, I think our kids could do any of these things.  John even thinks Henry could figure out a way to make money selling legos.   Today Elisabeth showed a trait that is valuable in just about any job, but especially...