Welcome to GrandmaShaman.com!
Children: Our Teachers

Children: Our Teachers

10563067_864471636914795_2540532130429297083_nSo I do have gobs of children.


I love the sight of a child. Looking and being with children reminds me of God’s love and absolute perfect creation. And I wanted lots of them.


When I myself was just a kid, I had promised myself that I would have a dozen children.


I had a lonely childhood. The youngest of three with siblings five and seven plus years older, a mother who worked non-stop and the hours she was home had no idea what to do with a child, I was bored. I remember so bored that I even watched the Republican Convention when Eisenhower was elected. So I knew I needed a household of many to have fun.

And fun we had, my children and I!

A child brings wonder into the life of adults who had forgotten what it is like to be amazed at the things of the world: a fallen tree, a train passing by, the joy of plunging in a puddle of rain.

“My trips in the car aren’t the same,” my son Greg once told me, “Now I ride with Jordan and he points to things I never pay attention to. It’s so exciting!” Greg had the triumphant look of the discover contemplating life now with his little boy.

Rearing 17 children, plus having been an elementary school teacher as well, I do not have a Pollyanna attitude or perception. Children take a lot out of you. They are demanding little creatures who tax our egos to the max. I do not have blinders on. Then they turn into young adults and make the most foolish mistakes and won’t listen to you who made foolish mistakes too. To them you have become an old fool who knows nothing especially if you can’t figure out things in this technological era.

But you love them. That’s makes it all worthwhile. That ego that they kept bruising forgives and delights in their presence and accomplishments. They can’t seem to realize how absolutely much you love them even as they grow grey hair or lose them. That no matter what mistakes they make or how far they are, you still see them a those precious little children who hugged you with arms filled with dirt and noses running and who slobbered kisses all over you and ruined your clothes.

What precious memories.

Yes, that’s why I had and adopted a lot of kids. They taught me to love. They were and are my teachers.

Leave a Reply

Close Menu