Thanks, But Can We Have This Life Lesson Some Other TIme?

Please?

Aimee's cat Duchess was last seen Wednesday night, and, given her habit of bounding in the back door by dark at the latest, hopes for her return are now seriously waning. I know this is just a cat we're talking about, and these things happen, and this is just life. It's hard sometimes, and we learn and grow from these kinds of experiences, but oh, how I wish with all my being that we didn't have to do this right now, and didn't have to do it at all with Duchess. Aimee has loved her, cared for her, and has been as responsible and attentive a pet owner as anyone could hope for - it just seems cruel that she is losing something she has cherished so deeply. And I know better, but as I've prayed for Duchess' return and/or for Aimee's comfort, I've asked God why he would allow such a thing at an already stressful time (I spent all of Thursday morning listening to Aimee's tears and lamentations, while also consoling Scarlett during her long crying jags - it wasn't a happy time!). If one of our animals had to disappear, why did it have to be the most beloved one? And I even asked what would happen to Aimee's faith if it seems her passionate prayers go answered - and worse yet, if she has to pass through this particularly agonizing tug-of-war between hope and despair that will probably go on for days and maybe weeks until she finally gives up? Of course I know better - we don't need to go into theology or discuss the importance of a cat versus other issues in life - and even as the thought entered my head, I was reminded that God will take care of Aimee's faith in him. It's not even my business to try to defend Him to her in this matter, only to comfort her as she endures a difficult time.

I've always liked the part of The Horse and His Boy in which Aslan explains to a character that she doesn't need to know what's going to happen to another, because "No one is told any story but their own." I thought of that this week as I grappled with why God would allow this to happen to Aimee right now, and how it might affect her, etc. It's just alarming to realize (more than just intellectually) that my children have their own stories, and many parts of those stories have absolutely nothing to do with me. Some of my children, of course, are still in the stage of life in which I am the answer to all of their needs and questions. as far as they know anyway. It's a good thing that other aspects of that stage are difficult; otherwise I think we as mothers would want our kids to stay there forever. Who doesn't like being adored and being looked to as the one who can make the path of life fair (as it seems to us, anyway) and fairly easy? But my older children, Aimee in particular right now, are moving into an entirely different stage, one in which they are beginning to step out into their own story, full of griefs and joys - one in which they are beginning to deal with their Creator on their own. It's strange not to have as big a part of the conversation anymore.


But while it is strange, and while watching my oldest grow up often tugs at my heartstrings, it can also be wonderful. The same day we realized Duchess was truly missing, Aimee received a letter from the zoo, saying that she was invited to come for an interview for the "Kids' Comission". In the spring, she noticed that they were accepting application for this, which is a panel of 7-14 year-olds who give their opinions about some aspects of the zoo. (I'm still a little sketchy on the details!) The application involved writing a short essay, and so Aimee promptly wrote one and put it in an envelope. I remember when she brought it to me and asked me for a stamp, my first reaction was, "Wait - you need me to proofread that first!" I checked that first reaction, but I did ask her if she wanted me to read it. She said no, she was perfectly happy with it, and I swallowed feelings of wanting to make sure her handwriting was neat, her spelling accurate, and her writing polished enough to make a good impression. We mailed it, and I forgot about it until we reveived the letter this week. Aimee was beaming, her confidence lifted by having done something that was completely hers alone.

So I suppose there are some life lessons I'm welcoming this week. Still heartsick about others.

Are You Going to Read All These?

Librarians who don't know us as well as most of them do sometimes pose this question to the kids when we're checking out. Of course the answer is yes, and it almost turns out to be true. So the kids did actually devour - more than once - "supplemental" Ancient Egypt books you see on the long list to the right. Some were more popular than others, but all in all, we've covered quite a bit of Ancient Egyptian history in the past few week, and all without much effort on my part. (Like, like, like.) I'm probably supposed to make them do more writing on it, and they would like to do some activities from the Story of the World activity book (a chicken mummy? I'm on the fence about this)...but we'll see.