The conversation with my so mature 8-year-old boy went like this: Jon: Dad, when are you going to tell Hannah about the birds and the bees? Me: When she’s ready. Jon: When will that be? Me: When she’s ready. Then shortly later, the conversation, now with Jon and Hannah, all of seven, went like this. […]
Jon and Hannah on the birds and the bees Read More »
There is a time to weep and a time to laugh, and a time to keep silence and a time to speak, and a time for many things under the sun. This is how the poet in Ecclesiastes put it. He was talking about time in the sense of what happens in it, that is the type
It’s the other day, Friday, and I’m saying goodbye to my children’s cousin, the little girl of My Bride’s sister, a bright little six-year-old with wavy brown hair and the best manners. ‘Why thank you for asking,’ she would say all week whenever I asked how her day was, her day at the camp that
Miss Manners goes to camp Read More »
We’re talking about telling the truth, Jon and me, and the truth is something that to a seven-year-old boy can be this or that. Apparently at camp, a day camp just a few minutes from our Canadian home, he told everyone yesterday that he had been up at 5 a.m. here at the house playing
Jon to jump from helicopter … maybe Read More »
We were eating. It was the first meeting with my side of the family since all of us, the Froese 5, returned to Canada. And my nine-year-old, Liz, was explaining everything that I had taught her. Ever. ‘Daddy says not to wear high heels. It’s bad for your back,’ she explained. ‘This is the only thing Daddy has
Why it’s important to wear sensible footwear Read More »
He was a hard-working man, which isn’t the worst, except that he worked so hard and so long and his love for it all was so very satisfying that his wife and children stopped expecting him to join them around the dinner table, never mind the Little League games and the school plays and evening
Why slowing down matters Read More »
‘Daddy, Daddy!’ It’s Jon. He’s really excited. He’s harvested his potatoes. ‘Look at this one. It’s as big as the ones you see on the shelves in the store!’ He stands at the edge of his garden and holds up a potato. I wouldn’t say it’s huge. But it’s not small either. Not like the
Jon, my son, Mister Potato Head Read More »
It’s bedtime. The issue of Catholics and Protestants comes up, like we just dropped into the 16th century. That moves to Mennonites. The kids want to know what Mennonites are all about. We have a Mennonite name and heritage. (You know Friese, Frieselandt, Froese etc.) I figure it’s a good time to share some family pride (in
We’re Mennonite. Which way to Switzerland? Read More »
