This morning I looked over and spied this book in a Pooh Bear's pile, and it served as a simple reminder of why I homeschool. Without these moments, I just might chase the yellow bus down the street one day and stuff all my children into it, pour myself some ice cold milk, whip up chocolate chip cookies, wrap myself in my luciously warm red throw blanket, and read the book of my choice. All day.
Last winter, I read this particular story to my children. Miss Rumphius is a book about a lady who was the Johnny Appleseed of Lupines. She went about spreading beauty in the hidden form of seeds and changed the world to a better place. After reading, I realized I didn't ever recall seeing a Lupine, so in the spring I scattered hard,black, round seeds resembling whole pepper in the flower bed in front of our house. Last summer, broad star-shaped green leaves popped out of the ground, but it takes two years to get bloom. If I am blessed enough to wake up alive and well each day, this summer I may have five foot stalks of cone shaped beauties to gaze upon just beyond my beloved porch swing.
If I'd have picked a grown up book and snuggled by myself on the couch, I'd have missed the great anticipation of glorious blossoms due in just a few short months after a long year of waiting with expectation.
What else would I have missed? If we had not read this story, our entire family might be unfortunate enough to pass a Lupine in all its splendor and have it's foliage remain completely unnoticed.
More than that, it wouldn't have been me to catch this tender story and sprinkle its majesty and potential over four precious people in my specific bundle of folks to love deeply.