One of the greatest gifts God has given us as a family is the privilege to educate Cami at home. When we first had her evaluated, Cami’s learning disability list was long: dyslexia, dysgraphia, dyspraxia, sensory integration disorder (specifically auditory processing disorder), and “other learning disorders.” It was overwhelming.
We brought Cami home from public school in an act of desperation. She spent her school days either hiding in the hallway or crawling under tables. She hated kindergarten. Who hates kindergarten?
Seven years later, I am amazed at the difference in my child. She loves to learn. Her boundless curiosity drives our homeschooling (for the most part). If I can get her to want to learn something, then I just step out of the way and she learns it.
The biggest delight I have in homeschooling Cami is the creativity that rises up in her and leaves me speechless. Last week, with her permission, I shared here on the blog part of the book series she’s writing. Today, I’d like to share the poetry she’s been writing this month.
And a drawing from her latest sketch book:
In her little poetry book, Cami wrote, “Just because I’m twelve years old does not mean that I can’t write good poetry.
If you turn the page, you’ll find that it’s true….”
I’d prefer to duel an orc than go on shopping trips,
And I just plain drink my tea instead of taking little sips;
I don’t collect pressed flowers, just cool rocks,
Not to mention sticks, books, and socks;
Who cares about dresses? Who cares about pink?
I guess I’m more of a tomboy than other people may think.
And I ain’t cute!
The Great Lion
I see the stars twinkling high above me,
Through the branches I see the constellations—
The Leopard, the Hammer, the Ship.
You placed each star in the sky, You know each by name.
To You, mountains bow;
To You, every ocean roars;
At Your coming, the trees dance and clap their hands:
Festive Holly, with his spikey crown,
Mighty Oak, an old man,
And Beautiful Beech, the fairest of all.
At Your mighty roar, Your enemies tremble in fear,
At Your call, ordinary people become kings and queens,
At Your Word, the darkness leaves,
At Your Name, my fear disappears.
Forget your wars, cast aside your differences!
Narnia, Britain, America,
All nations of all worlds, be joyful!
The Great Lion is come!
When I Grow Up
It seems that some people think
that I’ll grow up to be a painter,
but I don’t want to spend all my days painting.
Frankly, I think that’ll get boring.
When I grow up…
I want to be an explorer,
I want to be a knight,
I want to be an archaeologist,
I want to shine a light,
I want to be a secret spy,
I want to be a wizard,
I want to be a pet-shop owner
who only deals with lizards,
I want my friend to be a talking tabby cat,
’cause when you’re a writer,
you really can do all that.
King Roscoe the Third
Our dog is a bit odd,
You may find he’s fairly weird,
He meows, he never barks,
He also has a beard!
He drinks his water very loudly,
He can chew anything,
But would you call electing him president
“Going a bit extreme”?
He rolls around on the floor,
I built him his own house,
One eye is crooked,
He’s a movie star,
He’d never hurt a mouse.
So, as you may see he is a bit odd,
But then again, so am I;
Roscoe’s a gift from God.
I can’t wait to read her first screen play!
Grateful for God’s provision and healing in my girl,