A Tender Affliction: How it Spread Like Mad and Infected my Children...

It all began when I was about eight years old. My parents were members of the Dallas Symphony, and they were part of the pit orchestra for the Dallas Opera's performance of Samson et Delia. Either my parents didn't believe in babysitters, didn't want to pay babysitters, or they just liked having me around. I'll never know. But they took me with them to the performance this time, and I was comfortably seated on a backstage stool when my dad took me by the hand and said, "Come with me."

It was intermission. He walked me across the stage and down the steps to the velvet seats in the music hall at Fair Park. "I spotted some empty seats, and it's so late now that I know they'll remain empty," he said. I sat down and smoothed my fingers across the soft, maroon-colored velvet. I rocked gently. The lights dimmed. The orchestra tuned. The opera singers took the stage.

I don't remember much about this night because all previous memories fled during the final scene where Samson cries out with a loud voice, sings his heart out, and shoves the pillars until the entire set falls to the ground with an enormous thud. I shivered. Tears gathered in the corners of my eyes. It was an incredible moment.

That was the night I fell in love with opera.

I know it's silly, but I just watched it again and cried. AGAIN. After all these years. That's the power of opera to move you. Here is that final scene:

And here is the famous duet from Saint-Saens' Samson et Delia, Mon Coeur S'ouvre a ta Voix. Hopefully, it will be familiar to you.

My heart was torn. It was diseased. Infected. Crushed. Pulsing with passion. I was afflicted with a malady that defied all eight-year-old logic. I was magically, completely, wholeheartedly in love with opera. And the disease was about to spread. 

Years later, longing for some deep music study for my children, I enrolled them in the Choir School at St. Peter's Episcopal Church in Charlotte, NC. It was a tough program! They had to study hard each year to earn ribbons and progress through levels of music theory and its application. Not only that, they were required to learn solfege, to my great delight. Their teacher, Carol Lillard, was patient and kind but firm. And they learned. And grew. 

Then it happened. 

 The choir director was asked if his choirs might participate in an Opera Carolina performance of Tosca by Puccini. He said yes and off the children went to be fitted with wigs, costumes, and shoes. They rehearsed for what seemed like hours each day until they knew the piece backwards and forwards. It was called Te Deum. You can watch it about three minutes into the video below. But the version they performed here in North Carolina used lavish sets imported from Italy. The kids were in utter awe. Never had they performed in a professional opera, much less in full costume with gorgeous scenery. 

Here is Luciano Pavarotti singing one of the tenor arias from Puccini's Tosca. He's divine in the role of Cavaradossi and his most famous aria, Nessun Dorma, is also by Puccini, from his last opera, Turandot. Many thanks to Mr. Pavarotti for leaving us such a delectable legacy as this. Here is E Lucevan de Stelle, or I Never Loved Life so Much (sung on the eve of his execution). Can't get more dramatic than that, except, perhaps, the following gorgeous rendition of Nessun Dorma from Central Park in NYC. (below)

The kids went on to perform with Opera Carolina again, this time as supernumeraries, which is just a fancy word for people with a walk on role who don't speak or sing. Extras for crowd scenes. The opera was The Pearl Fishers, by Georges Bizet. Once again, they were enthralled. The music, the singers, the dancers, the costumes, the wigs, the makeup (full body makeup so they would look Indonesian). Here is the famous Au Fond du Temple Saint duet from Bizet's Pearl Fishers. There's no video, but it's my favorite version because of the tone and technical genius of these two performers. Once you begin your opera journey, you'll start noticing things like tessitura and coloratura. And your personal preferences will develop alongside your love of opera. This performance is by Jussi Bjorling and Robert Merrill.

Next, our daughters and one of our sons auditioned for the local community college's opera program. They sang entire operas as chorus members. What joy! Our daughter Hilary remained involved with Opera Carolina, performing in La Boheme even when she had to get there through a blizzard. She was almost the only member of the "band" there that night! What dedication. 

Pirates of Penzance

Tales of Hoffman

Marriage of Figaro

Their love was deepening. Crescendoing. It was lovely to behold, as a Charlotte Mason educator and as a parent. And, I should say, as the daughter of symphony musicians. My parents have both passed away, so I feel a tender whisper of delight brush over me each time one of our children performs in an opera, an orchestra, or any musical performance. Our youngest son is an excellent drummer, guitarist, and singer. The opportunities are going to be endless, and it all began with Samson et Delia in a darkened auditorium filled with a hushed audience in Dallas, Texas. Little did I know how deep the veins of gold would go within my heart and soul -- or how actively our family would mine them.

The Educational Bits

To address what Charlotte Mason would say about studying Music, Opera, and Composers in general, is simple. 

Go to live performances. Often. 

Listen to the works of the same composer repeatedly for a season until you develop a deep affinity for him (or her). 

I would add to that participating in operas, taking voice lessons, singing arias, and developing relationships with your local opera company, or even with a company further away if you live in a small town or rural area. Our family got to know Maestro Meena here in Charlotte through talks he gave before or after each performance. We developed a relationship with him. Then, to our great surprise, we discovered we had a mutual friend and ran into him at a party. What a treat that was. You'd be amazed at how open professional musicians can be to interacting with children who show an interest. We are raising the next generation of classical music lovers, and that interests them greatly. 

Here's a thought. Let's learn an aria together, just you and me. It's called Vissi D'arte. You can download the music here. And here it is in Italian, then in English:

Italian Text

Vissi d’arte, vissi d’amore,
non feci mai male ad anima viva!
Con man furtiva
quante miserie conobbi aiutai.

Sempre con fè sincera
la mia preghiera
ai santi tabernacoli salì.
Sempre con fè sincera
diedi fiori agl’altar.

Nell’ora del dolore
perchè, perchè, Signore,
perchè me ne rimuneri così?

Diedi gioielli della Madonna al manto,
e diedi il canto agli astri, al ciel,
che ne ridean più belli.
Nell’ora del dolor
perchè, perchè, Signor,
ah, perchè me ne rimuneri così?

English Translation of "Vissi d'Arte"

I lived for my art, I lived for love,
I never did harm to a living soul!
With a secret hand
I relieved as many misfortunes as I knew of.
Always with true faith
my prayer
rose to the holy shrines.
Always with true faith
I gave flowers to the altar.
In the hour of grief
why, why, o Lord,
why do you reward me thus?
I gave jewels for the Madonna’s mantle,
and I gave my song to the stars, to heaven,
which smiled with more beauty.
In the hour of grief
why, why, o Lord,
ah, why do you reward me thus?

Won't you listen and learn with me? If you're joining me, please leave a note in the comments. I'd love to know! God bless you and have a great week!

The Ragged Schools of Scotland: A Dickensian Dream fulfilled

by Megan Hoyt

Thomas Guthrie's "Ragged Theology" was a new concept in 1800s Scotland, but we see glimpses of it throughout Charlotte Mason's writings. Did you know that? I didn't -- until a couple of weeks ago when I fell in love with Ragged Schools! Gentle whispers throughout the pages of each of Miss Mason's volumes woo us toward magnanimous thinking, toward proffering ideas to children instead of speed drills, toward seeing the infinite value of a human being instead of his utility to the state. 

Miss Mason believed every living soul deserved to access the great minds of the past -- the great art, music, literature, inventions, poetry, and all the glorious ideas that came before them.  But just prior to the time she began saying such things, Thomas Guthrie and Andrew Walker were heading into Edinburgh's slums to offer the Gospel to those who thought themselves beyond reach, who others didn't even bother with -- the nameless, faceless poor. Guthrie wrote about one man's response to the Gospel in his autobiography. What a beautiful recognition this gentleman had! May we all have such tender souls as this grace-filled man!

"He rose, bowed down by a sense of sin, in great distress of mind; he would go to the church that day, but being a man of a very tender conscience, he hesitated about going to the Lords table; deep was answering to deep at the noise of God's waterspouts, and all God's billows and waves were going over him; he was walking in darkness, and had no light.  In this state he proceeded to put himself in order for church, and while washing his hands, one by one, he heard a voice say, 'Cannot I, in my blood, as easily wash your soul, as that water wash your hands?' 'Now Minister,' he said, in telling me this, 'I do not say there was a real voice, yet I heard it very distinctly, word for word, as you now hear me.  I felt a load taken off my mind, and went to the Table and sat under Christ's shadow with great delight.' " (Thomas Guthrie, Memoir and Autobiography, 1896, p 115.)  

Once I began reading about Ragged Schools, the idea clung to my heart. I hope one day to bring some level of hope to America's struggling poor, the way Andrew Walker did in Scotland: 

Obituary:    
London City Mission Magazine  
for May 1, 1896

We have received intelligence also of the death of another servant of Christ, who at one time did earnest effective work as a London City Missionary. A gentleman in Edinburgh writes:-

On the 3rd of February there died at City Troy, New York State, at the patriarchal age of eighty-nine, Mr. Andrew Walker, well known fifty years ago as the pioneer of the Ragged Schools in Westminster.

He was born at Craigsford, Earlston, a pretty village in Berwickshire, July 20th, 1807, and partly educated in the village at the same school which the famous Dr. Waugh, of Wells Street, London, had attended half a century before.

When the time came for choosing a calling, he became, like Robert Moffat, a gardener. His first engagement was at Newton Don, his last in Scotland at Camperdown . . . From Camperdown he went to Hans Place, London. Wandering one day through the narrow lanes and courts of Westminster that lay to the south of the Abbey, he was so impressed with the signs of vice and misery all around him, than he resolved he would make it his life’s work to do what he could to bring light and liberty to the region.

He gave up his occupation at Chelsea, entered the London City Mission, November, 1838, and began his work within the district bounded by Clare Street, Orchard Street, Strutton Ground, and Great Peter Street.

Mr. Walker remained there for fourteen years, and during that time, by the blessing of God on his labours, effected a most remarkable change in the inhabitants. When he went there were six public-houses, one of them having a thieves’ training school attached to it, after the manner of that described by Dickens in “Oliver Twist.”

His first place of meeting was in an old stable . . . By the kindness of Lady Trowbridge, part of it was fitted up for girls. Lady Hope provided sixty of the children with articles of clothing. On the opening day many titled people were there, and Robert Moffat - home on furlough - addressed the children.

Mr. Walker was not long in finding out that any benefit given during school hours was neutralised by the scenes of home life. It was, therefore, decided to retain the young people there night as well as day and provide them with food and clothing - in short, to form a Ragged School, the first of the kind in Westminster. In this he was greatly assisted by Lord Shaftesbury - then Lord Ashley - who, by public speech and private influence, was the means of exciting interest and raising money. Mr. Walker’s next step was to secure the interest of the thieves in his Mission. The district was one of the headquarters of the “swell mob.” These he sought to influence, and accomplished it in this way. Securing a place of meeting in the upper room of one of the public-houses, he accosted some of them one day when they were playing “pitch-and-toss,” and invited them to form a Sunday afternoon class, to which none but those of their own fraternity would be admitted. They agreed, and next Sunday met for an hour in the afternoon for singing, prayer, reading, and explaining God’s Word.

Mr. Walker had many visits from those interested in reclamation work. In his journal he mentions meeting Charles Dickens and taking him round the district. The result of the visit was a powerful article in Household Words, entitled “The Devil’s Acre.” Another visitor was William Chambers, who came introduced by Lord Kinnaird, a warm friend of Mr. Walker’s. This visit was also followed by a paper which appeared in Chambers’  Journal, under the heading “A Visit to Westminster, but not to the Abbey.” His final scheme was to secure another of the public-houses, known as “The Green Man.” It also was fitted up as a Refuge, where trades of various kinds were carried on. Secular education was given during the week and, by the assistance of various ladies and gentlemen, Sabbath instruction also.

In due time the lads passed into the world to earn an honourable living, many of them going to Australia and the States.

After this arduous labour in Westminster, Mr. Walker removed to the Surrey side of the river and began the Wellington Nursery for the reclamation of the wanderers, where education and out-door occupation were combined. Here he was again visited by Charles Dickens, who penned another graphic article in Household Words, called “Tilling the Devil’s Acre.” Acting under medical advice he gave up this work in 1858, sailed for the States, and settled down in Troy City, where he became an active worker and elder in the United Presbyterian Church, carrying on his first occupation.

From Thomas Chalmers to Thomas Guthrie to Andrew Walker to the London City Mission of today, Charlotte Mason's revolutionary ideas about personhood and education must surely have been influenced by these few kindly gentlemen who looked and really saw, who cared and actually did something to help the less fortunate poor of their day. God bless them! 

Poetic musings from my heart to yours (and a Christmas pudding besides)

by Megan Hoyt

What are your favorite Christmas traditions?

We don't just celebrate Christmas; we also celebrate Hanukkah. This keeps us hopping. We have eight nights of partying with dreidel games, cookies, listening to NPR's fantastic Hanukkah storytellers and music, and, of course, praying to Almighty G*d, the Creator of the Universe, the unspeakable, all powerful One. Everything blue and white goes up at our house, then comes back down eight days later and is replaced by red and green. It's really tricky! But loads of fun. Chocolate gelt for everyone!!!

These are the special moments -- the times we carve out for only our family. As I sit here snug beneath the Christmas quilt, I can't wait for our children to come home from college and celebrate with us again! 

Tasha Tudor illustrations

We always bake the traditional Hoyt family eggnog cutout cookies, along with a special treat my mother called a "puff." It's like a gigantic cream puff with yummy vanilla glaze on top. It's rich with egg yolks and out of this world. I also started making dishes and desserts out of The Frugal Gourmet's Christmas recipe cookbook. He has food for the magi, the shepherds, etc. We have so much fun with this! Well, I do, anyway. So every year, I make date pudding with whiskey sauce. It's intoxicating in more ways than one. And I don't even like those fruitcake sorts of desserts. But with finely ground walnuts and dates chopped very small, this one is out of this world rich and decadent. We sometimes make plum pudding and figgy pudding, but date pudding is my favorite. I'll post the recipe for it below, and many thanks to the Frugal Gourmet, God rest his merry soul.

The evening before Christmas Eve day, we always go caroling. Just our family. We take along a candle or two in brass candleholders that we only use for this occasion, and we take a plate of cookies to each neighbor. We can't do this any earlier or the neighbors will try to return the gift. If you go close to Christmas, they won't have time and you will have blessed them without getting anything in return which is, of course, the whole point!

Tasha Tudor illustration from Take Joy

We like to read Dickens' A Christmas Carol every year, too. And we always read through a few stories in Tasha Tudor's Take Joy. This must be done beside a roaring fire with Wassail in hand or the spell will be broken. It's magical, I tell you! I remember so fondly carrying this book around the house as a child, poring through the lovely illustrations, singing the hymns (all verses), reading the stories, and, well, taking joy in the Savior's birth!

About the Wassail. It is a Hoyt MUST! From Thanksgiving to Christmas, there is always a pot of steaming Wassail on the stove. The aroma of Wassail and evergreen means Christmas to us. To make our special Wassail, you must use a gallon jug of Apple Cider, a half gallon jug of pure Cranberry Juice -- not cocktail and no added sugar. Then you add a cup of brown sugar, about five cinnamon sticks broken in half, and top with ten slices of orange with cloves tucked into them (This keeps the cloves out of the drink but still adds their flavor). Sometimes we add apple slices, too. It's a simple recipe with fabulous results. And after the kiddies go to bed, you can add a little red wine for a lovely chill-out time with the adults in your life.

Every Christmas Eve, we act out the Christmas story. And Steve always plays the donkey. Now that the kids have gotten a little older, he begs for mercy! Each girl gets a chance to play Mary, so this can take a while. I am always the angel. Funny to some of you, I'll bet. This is a great way to help the kids memorize the story from Luke. At first, I recited it while they play acted. Now, I'm pretty sure we can all recite it word for word. I had to memorize the story in third grade for a Christmas play, and I have never forgotten it. Memory work is good for children. And this is one I would definitely recommend. Any time they can recite from memory a favorite scripture verse or hymn or psalm you can rest assured they will be able to draw from that treasured memory when future struggles inevitably arrive on their doorstep. It's like carrying gold in their satchels, ready to bring it forth in trying times. 

Also on Christmas Eve, we all snuggle up and watch White Christmas. It's a tradition for us because Steve and I watched it on our first date. We were the only ones in our group of friends who did not go home for Christmas when we were in graduate school. So we hung out together, did some Christmas shopping, went to Steve's work Christmas party together. And on Christmas Eve, we fell in love. So every year, without fail and no matter how tired we are from all the festivities leading up to Christmas Eve, we watch White Christmas. Then Steve and I stay up most of the night trying to bake, cook, and get everything else wrapped and set up for Christmas morning. 

Christmas morning. 

We always have breakfast before anything else. Crazy of us to make the kids wait, right? But with full tummies, there is less negative emotion. That doesn't matter so much now that they're older, but when they were young, wooooo! 

We open presents one at a time, taking turns. It's an obsession of my husband's. He's a television producer, and he always wanted to make sure he got everything recorded on video. 

So we must TAKE TURNS! 

Now that they're older, the kids savor their time together, watching each person open a gift and rejoicing as they see what they were given. 

We don't do Santa. We never have. I have taught the kids the story of St. Nicholas from a young age, and they understand the whole concept and don't spoil it for anyone else. But we prefer to focus on the Christ child, the meaning of it all, the Alpha and Omega, beginning and end. The reason for the season is Jesus and the salvation he bought for us all on the cross.

God bless us, every one!

The long-awaited Christmas pudding recipe

Steamed Date Pudding with Whiskey Sauce

serves 8

1/2 cup (1 stick) butter, at room temperature

1 cup honey

1 tablespoon grated lemon peel

1 teaspoon lemon juice

2 eggs

3/4 cup chopped pitted dates

1/2 cup chopped pecans

2 cups all-purpose flour

1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon 

(1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg and 1/2 teaspoon ground cloves optional)

1 cup milk

With an electric mixer, beat the butter and honey together until smooth. Add the lemon peel and lemon juice and blend again. Beat in the eggs, one at a time. Mix the dates and pecans with 2 tablespoons of the flour and set aside.

Sift together the remaining flour with the other dry ingredients. Add the dry ingredients to the creamed mixture alternately with the milk. Stir in the dates and nuts.

Butter a 2-quart mold, including the lid. If the mold has no lid, butter some aluminum foil and tie it on the mold as a lid. Pour the batter into the mold and cover. (You could also use a 2-pound coffee can as a mold, or a juicy juice can.) Place the mold in a large pot and add water to come halfway up the sides of the mold. Bring the water to a boil, cover the pot, and simmer for 2 hours, or until the pudding pulls away from the sides of the mold. Let stand 10 minutes before unmolding. This may be done before dessert time. If necessary, simply reheat in a standard oven at about 325 degrees. Serve with Whiskey Sauce.

The Whiskey Sauce

1/2 cup (1 stick) butter

1 cup confectioners' sugar

1 egg, well beaten

2 tablespoons whiskey, or more to taste

In a double boiler, cook the butter and sugar until the sugar is completely dissolved and very hot. Remove from the heat. Add the beaten egg, using a whisk, so that it will not curdle. When very smooth, allow to cool. Add the whiskey to taste.

When the pudding is assembled, pour extra whiskey over the top and ignite. Enjoy!

This recipe is courtesy of The Frugal Gourmet Celebrates Christmas. Go out and buy this book, so you, too, can make soup for the shepherds, rose cakes for the Magi, and all the other wonderful recipes in the book. It's a treasure!

Tasha Tudor illustrations

And now, a couple of free verse poems I wrote several years ago -- my gift to you!

Lily of the Valley

Tangled among sharp nettles, amid barley prickles and darkened, dry grass lay a long-forgotten lily -- soft, brilliant, pure, touched with dew, thirsty with hope, and stained with sorrow.

He shoved his sleeve above his elbow, thrust his bare hand through the mire of thorns, grasped the lily gently between hardened, calloused fingers, and tugged at its satin-soft petals until it was free.

Long forlorn and quite forgotten, the lily was torn and tinged with brown.
Laid in a crystal vase filled with sweetened water, she was drenched with anticipation, filled with nourishment, tinted creamy pale by the sun streaming through his windowpane. 

Soon blossoms cascaded down her branches. Tears welled up in his eyes. Immersed in pure joy, innocent love, and touched with fresh clarity, a song was born of her distant sorrow. It traveled for miles, floating across the sea, over mountains, hills, and valleys until, gathering speed and power from the light above, the song reached the moistened clouds, the shimmering stars, the milky host of Heaven above.

He heard it and was enraptured. Adding angelic voices and thundering echoes of heavenly instruments, all sorrow was swept from the song, leaving only delight. 

The lily burst forth into searing beauty. Pure, white, soft, delicate, fragile, her moment had come. Bursting with fragrance, dampened with dew, she leaped from the soil and landed in His arms, to rest forever in peaceful surrender. 

She nestled snugly upon his breast and felt the comforting pounding of His strong heart, beating only for her as for the thousands who came before. 

And she was forever changed.

I was sitting at the computer watching an episode of my husband's tv show, Think It Thru, when a poem began drafting itself inside my head. I typed it in as it came to me, fast and fluid, like a waterfall tumbling over rocky crags with unseen force. I believe it was God trying to tell me who He really is, who His son, Messiah, is, and to urge me to show others who we, as living sacrifices left on earth to be a witness to future generations of the validity of Yeshua's messiahship, should be toward everyone we meet, Jewish or goyim, sinner and saint. For some reason, as the show was ending, I said the words, "Find me." I think maybe He did. 

Here it is...

Amid the faint starlight and temporal glow of evening, lies a dim flicker, a dying ember, waiting to be fanned to glorious flame.

Nearby sits a still, quiet, thoughtful creature, a spotless lamb of unmentionable quality and astonishing vigor, 

filled with laughter and joy, freedom and love, gentleness and peace.

The lost, the lonely, the longing, the grieving--they arrive as the sunrise deepens, transforming the shade of night into the brilliant color of a fresh, new day;

they come with fear and anguish written across their tear-stained faces, but they do come.

Washing over them with aromatic oil, fragrant and floral, the princely lamb lifts each chin, meets each eye, and says to every wandering heart, "Come."

I rush forward, leaping over rocks and skirting thorn-infested brambles, to meet this gentle lamb with His healing touch and knowing eyes.

I fall at His feet, wrestling with my inadequacies, wallowing in my guilt and shame, writhing in secret pain.

He does not curse and swear, He does not cringe in disgust, He does not stand in judgment.

He stoops to meet my gaze, holds me in His strong, loving arms, and rests my weary head across his sturdy shoulder.

Then He sings over me--sweet songs of forgiveness and peace, deliverance and rest, comfort and life.

I am humbled at His touch; I dirty his woolen white coat with my sin-stained skin.

Yet He doesn't walk away.

He stays.

Matthew Arnold "Think clear, feel deep, bear fruit well." Anyone else want to fix these adverbs like I do?

by Megan Hoyt

"In Mr. Arnold's opinion too much time is still spent in the introductory discipline of grammar and mathematics, which, though most valuable in the cultivation of exact habits of mind, are not ends in themselves except for a few philological and mathematical specialists. Most people's aptitudes lead them best to knowledge of themselves and of the world through literature, philosophy, history, or through some one or more of the natural sciences. We should then treat Greek, Latin, and modern languages more as literature and less as mere scholarship, so as to enter into vital contact with other nations, and to seize the spirit and power of their highest thoughts." 

http://www.amblesideonline.org/PR/PR07p660MattArnold.shtml

I knew Matt wouldn't let me down. 

Sometimes I think as Charlotte Mason educators we see vitality measured by moments of human connection or mutual understanding. And Matthew Arnold seems to agree. He's not recommending loads of memory work and lots of problems and a heavy dose of textbook reading. Not that those are bad things. But he seems to see a bigger picture -- "to enter into vital contact with other nations, and to seize the spirit and power of their highest thoughts." His aim is toward noble, magnanimous thoughts. 

I wonder what the big picture goal of our NEA leaders here in the USA is. Wait, no, I don't. I already know. Their goal is to prepare students for college and the work force. That rings a bit hollow in light of the lofty goals of Matthew Arnold, doesn't it? It's very utilitarian. It doesn't exactly ring true when you think of your own life either. Proverbial you. When I ponder the saying that life is measured "in moments that take your breath away," I can't help but wonder why our children are forced to spend so many of them indoors sitting on hard chairs at desks, listening to adults drone on about a subject when they could be focusing in on more impactful moments. Here are a few of mine -- both real and imagined:

Sitting quietly with a friend watching the sun setting over the ocean amid the sound of gently rolling waves.

breathing in the fresh aroma of pine on a chilly mountainside as we chop down our first Christmas tree and drag it to the car through powdery snow. 

The sight of our first child being born, holding her in my arms for the first time, seeing all that bright red hair and wondering how in the world God packed all that incredible DNA within such a delicate frame. 

Feeling the exact same sense of wonder at the births of each of our other children and experiencing the awe of new life alongside every new believer. 

Watching baby birds learn to fly with my two little girls by my side. 

Leaning forward to listen to mourning doves coo and watching them cuddle because they built their nest in our gutter and it's right outside my son's window. 

Knowing that these moments are holy and precious and recognizing how fleeting they will feel once they are in the past and not the future. 

I am 50 years old now. These special times ARE in the past. And I treasured each one as they came. I jumped in the leaves with my children. We laughed giddily as we read silly books out loud. I let them blow bubbles in their chocolate milk. On purpose. Because every moment of life is sacred and special. 

Yes, these are the hushed undertones of the miraculous. These are the moments of vitality that make up our days as Charlotte Mason families. This is how we choose to live. And this is the vitality Matthew Arnold recommends for us. The one that Miss Mason chose to write about in her Parents' Review article about him so many years ago. 

But what about the mind that has a natural bent toward numbers, statistics, scientific data and notation, patterns, figures, numbers, and such? 

There is absolutely a holiness to having a methodical mind for numbers and details and data. I should know because I don't lean in that direction and time and time again I have suffered the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune as a result of "not having my ducks in a row" or, on a deeper level, not safeguarding myself against those who had unfettered access to my soul when I really should have analyzed the situation rather than jumping in impulsively with my heart on my sleeve. 

If you are a numbers person, you are loved and appreciated! I think it's important to strengthen the areas in our personalities where there is a lack. Just like I read about in the Bacon essay in my last blog post. There is always room for stretching higher toward skills we aren't naturally gifted in, right? 

Here's an example. I am not a particularly financially savvy person, but I was listening to the radio one day and heard "the fifth caller will win a free investment class." I called and I won. I think probably everyone wins and that it may have been an advertisement to get people to take a sample class, but impulsive me took the bait! So we went to the class and learned quite a lot about investing and strategies. I haven't yet used this newfound ability, but I'm really happy that I stretched and reached for it. I'll keep you posted. 

But back to Matthew Arnold... Here's another snippet:

"Arnold was not ungrateful to his own public school training, and when his work at the Education Office brought before him the state of the country generally as regards education, he grieved to see the dismal swamp in which middle-class education was allowed to flounder, while that of the aristocracy was fairly provided for, and that of the working classes was becoming efficiently organised. ... With incisive iteration he tells them that they have 'a defective type of religion, a narrow range of intellect and knowledge, a stunted sense of beauty, and a low standard of manners.' And these defects he ascribes chiefly to the mean type of school in which the middle-class Englishman is trained."

Ouch. Sounds like he was pretty appalled at the state of middle class education in his day! Well, if the opposite of narrow is broad, Charlotte Mason came to their rescue with her broad, liberal education for all and her focus on beauty. 

Thank you, Miss Mason! Here's more:


"...he was always ready to drive home his favourite doctrine--Organise, organise your secondary education, make it a public business, give it prestige. Your children are badly taught and ignobly trained, and this deteriorates their standard of life, their civilization. With organisation would come the special preparation of teachers, as well as that of other public servants, for their office. The need for such preparation Arnold was never weary of inculcating. He puts the case for training so well and so clearly that we must have his own words--

'The end to have in view is that every one who presents himself to exercise any calling shall have received, for a certain length of time, the best instruction preliminary to that calling. This is not, it must be repeated again and again, an absolute security for his exercising the calling well, but it is the best security. It is a thousand times better security than the mere examination test, on which, with such ignorant confidence, we are now, in cases where we take any security at all, leaning with our whole weight. ...' " 


I think I'll read more of Matthew Arnold's work in the coming days. Here's what's on my list:

Essays in Criticism

Literature and Dogma: An Essay Towards a Better Apprehension of the Bible

Culture and Anarchy

The Letters of Matthew Arnold to Arthur Hugh Clough

Poems

From Matthew Arnold's The Scholar Gypsy:

But fly our paths, our feverish contact fly! 
For strong the infection of our mental strife, 
Which, though it gives no bliss, yet spoils for rest; 
And we should win thee from thy own fair life, 
Like us distracted, and like us unblest. 
Soon, soon thy cheer would die, 
Thy hopes grow timorous, and unfix’d thy powers, 
And thy clear aims be cross and shifting made; 
And then thy glad perennial youth would fade, 
Fade and grow old at last, and die like ours.

May we not be distracted or unblest. 

And may our aims be clear and not cross or shifting. 

From wiki:  Matthew Arnold (24 December 1822 – 15 April 1888) was a British poet and cultural critic who worked as an inspector of schools. He was the son of Thomas Arnold, the famed headmaster of Rugby School, and brother to both Tom Arnold, literary professor, and William Delafield Arnold, novelist and colonial administrator. Matthew Arnold has been characterized as a sage writer, a type of writer who chastises and instructs the reader on contemporary social issues.

"Studies serve for delight, for ornament, and for ability."

by Megan Hoyt

While I am waiting for a couple of bloggers to send me their thoughts on other topics, I thought it might be fun to take a look at some of the people Charlotte Mason admired and whose work she emulated. I'll begin with Francis Bacon's essay On Studies, in which he explains this idea that "Studies serve for delight, for ornament, and for ability." I've never truly understood this concept -- especially the ornamental bit.

After we take a look at Francis Bacon, I'd like us to consider Matthew Arnold, Jan Amos Comenius, and a few other scholars Miss Mason referred to in her Series and Parents' Review articles. There is much to be learned and gleaned from studying those she studied, whether she agreed or disagreed with them. And I want to know what resonates within you. You know, human nature never changes. We may see new inventions, new ideas, and even new political agendas rolling around again and again, but our humanity is still just the same as always with different areas of self-centeredness than other generations but the same basic need for the Holy Spirit's guidance and protection and teaching and leading us into all truth.
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From Francis Bacon's Of Studies:

STUDIES serve for delight, for ornament, and for ability. Their chief use for delight is in privateness and retiring; for ornament, is in discourse; and for ability, is in the judgment and disposition of business. ...  To spend too much time in studies is sloth; to use them too much for ornament, is affectation; to make judgment wholly by their rules, is the humor of a scholar. They perfect nature, and are perfected by experience: for natural abilities are like natural plants, that need pruning, by study; and studies themselves do give forth directions too much at large, except they be bounded in by experience. Crafty men condemn studies, simple men admire them, and wise men use them; for they teach not their own use; but that is a wisdom without them, and above them, won by observation. Read not to contradict and confute; nor to believe and take for granted; nor to find talk and discourse; but to weigh and consider. Some books are to be tasted, others to be swallowed, and some few to be chewed and digested; that is, some books are to be read only in parts; others to be read, but not curiously; and some few to be read wholly, and with diligence and attention. ... Reading maketh a full man; conference a ready man; and writing an exact man. And therefore, if a man write little, he had need have a great memory; if he confer little, he had need have a present wit: and if he read little, he had need have much cunning, to seem to know that he doth not. Histories make men wise; poets witty; the mathematics subtile; natural philosophy deep; moral grave; logic and rhetoric able to contend. Abeunt studia in mores [Studies pass into and influence manners]. Nay, there is no stond or impediment in the wit but may be wrought out by fit studies; like as diseases of the body may have appropriate exercises. Bowling is good for the stone and reins; shooting for the lungs and breast; gentle walking for the stomach; riding for the head; and the like. So if a man’s wit be wandering, let him study the mathematics; for in demonstrations, if his wit be called away never so little, he must begin again. If his wit be not apt to distinguish or find differences, let him study the Schoolmen; for they are cymini sectores [splitters of hairs]. If he be not apt to beat over matters, and to call up one thing to prove and illustrate another, let him study the lawyers’ cases. So every defect of the mind may have a special receipt. ________________________________________________________________________ Hear no evil; see no evil; speak no evil; smell no evil? What resonated with you from this essay? Anything stand out as especially important? I loved the last section, where he says, "if his wit be not apt to distinguish or find differences, let him study the Schoolmen; for they are cymini sectores [splitters of hairs]." One thing that I like to do is give students' different books to read based on their needs. In fact, I just did this in a class I'm teaching on the Medieval period of Christendom. Educational methodologists might call this "differentiation." It's this idea that you address each student's areas of lack, in an effort to strengthen them. If we truly view each child as a born person, we will be more apt to do this, I think. It resonates deeply, this idea that we should give what is needed to address a lack. If, for example, a person was vitamin D deficient, we would give them a supplement of that particular mineral, right? We would not blame them for it, nor would we give them vitamin C supplements and expect to see results. So our job as educators is to find the perfect living materials to address each child's need. No easy thing! But necessary. I love it. What part of this essay leapt out at you? Let me know, okay? I'd love to hear from you!

Knowledge of the Universe

As many of you know, Science is not my forte. Neither is math. These are the joy of left brain, administrative people, not right brain creatives like me, right? Well, that's not completely true.

Strauss and Brahms

The little known fact about musicians, artists, and creative people in general is that they can be extremely precise, detailed, and mathematical. We are an oddity, I realize! There is this innate determination toward perfection that runs deep within the soul of a creative person. You wouldn't think it's there at all, judging from the artist's loft or the musician's lair. Look at Beethoven! He was a total, disorganized mess!

Or was he?

If you were to look at the exterior scene where he created his masterpieces and his bedraggled clothes and disheveled way of living, yes. (Brahms was also a bit disheveled in dress, as were many famous artists and writers). But take a peek at Beethoven's music, and the complexity will astound you. It's an interior, introverted focused approach. We all have it or at least the possibility of it. So when discussing knowledge of the universe -- such a vast, expansive thing to talk about -- let's not forget that although those obsessed with the Humanities (guilty!) are not typically going to go into science as a career, they can and do study science voraciously.

Here are my somewhat sparse imaginings about Science, the most vivid of my memories from the past 17 years of homeschooling. The first thing I remember doing with our children is ordering caterpillars and watching them build cocoons and become butterflies. Our poor little girls did not want to let their butterflies go free! It was tough to watch them tearfully say goodbye to their precious new friends. But isn't that sort of the point? We hope and pray that our children will engage with what they are learning, and this was one occasion where there was clear engagement, that's for sure! After that experience, they found caterpillars outside and redid the experiment again. This time, the giant brown moth that pushed his way out of the cocoon was quite different than the pretty blue butterflies, yet they were ecstatic! They named him Fred, as I recall. And again, they were fully "on" and engaged.

The next few years we used Apologia curriculum for Science, since I really had less than no clue what living materials to buy. When they did an experiment with eggs in Physical Science, they built bleachers for the rest of the eggs to sit on and watch the experiment along with them. They had drawn faces on all the eggs, named them, and included them in the whole process. Again, totally engaged. Sometimes they videotaped their experiments so they wouldn't forget a moment -- all were precious. Other times, they wrote lengthy dissertations about the topic at hand. As high school approached, we switched from homeschooling solo to joining a co-op and thankfully, I was no longer their inept Science teacher. They retained that same vigor and interest they had begun with so many years prior.

Here is Miss Mason's take on it:

"If we ask, what is knowledge?––there is no neat and ready answer at hand: Matthew Arnold, we know, classifies all knowledge under three heads,––the knowledge of God, divinity, the knowledge of man, known as the 'humanities,' and the knowledge of the physical world, science, and that is enough to go on with. ...

One thing at any rate we know with certainty, that no teaching, no information becomes knowledge to any of us until the individual mind has acted upon it, translated it, transformed, absorbed it, to reappear, like our bodily food, in forms of vitality. Therefore, teaching, talk and tale, however lucid or fascinating, effect nothing until self-activity be set up; that is, self-education is the only possible education; the rest is mere veneer laid on the surface of a child's nature."

So how do we encourage attending and engaging on the part of the student without force-feeding knowledge? Ah, that's the all-important question. I just spent a weekend learning how to teach Science at the Landry Academy's Mom's Retreat in the mountains near Asheville, NC. Beautiful setting for a marvelous group of teachers to pour their hearts' deepest loves out to a thirsty crowd! We pricked our own fingers and found out our blood types, spit into a cup and cultured our own DNA, dissected animals (I did not participate in that part), and learned that finding out how the universe works for ourselves is really the best way to secure knowledge for ourselves. 

They gave us the keys to unlock the doors to this knowledge. They taught us about type A and type B antibodies and told us what chemicals they were handing out that would cause our DNA strands to separate from the rest of the solution. In other words, they laid out the feast for us, set the table, and we partook. So our job is laying it all out there for our students. How?

Well, when it comes to Science, I'm not the best person to ask. Still, I think the best education is caught, not taught. Find someone who is an expert in their chosen field and who is excited about it. Bring them into your school and let the kids sit at their able feet and take in knowledge. Want to learn about the planets? Bring in an astronomer. Biology? Contact someone who specializes in infectious disease or something in the medical field.

Jean Henri Fabre

There are living books that cover these areas of specialization, too. I remember when my children were young reading The Life of the Bee by Maeterlinck, Fabre's fantastic books, Madam How and Lady Why, and Arabella Buckley's Fairyland of Science. But Science has changed so much since those books were published that we need to find newer living books to use. We can still use the old conversational ones like Storybook of Science, but it's important to add up to date, informative works that engage while offering hands-on work students can do alone. Let them take in knowledge and let it give them vitality of mind, as food gives us physical vitality or energy.

Here are a few websites and blogs where those more able than I have shared about science:

Charlotte Mason Home
Be Like Fabre
Aut to be home in Carolina