"Your children are very different from each other." That was a new friend's comment recently when I picked my oldest two children up from her house. After spending 10 and 12 years in the same home with this son and daughter, I knew exactly what she meant. One of the joys of parenting is discovering the unique way God has wired each of my children and encouraging them to use their God-design for His glory. I look at the youngest and wonder what sorts of things we have yet to learn about him as well!
When we rewrote stories for school recently, I had an interesting glimpse into two uniquely crafted personalities. The story was about a fox, a crow, and some cheese, but each child added his or her own twist.
Rachel's version has a redemptive thread, as has every story she has written since. This girl desires everyone act righteously and that there be a happy ending.
The fox the crow and the cheese
It was a foggy and early morning. A sly, hungry fox was searching for something to devour. Above him something dark caught his eye. It was a crow and it caught his eye quickly. The crow looked vain and dull but in her mouth was new and fresh Colby Jack cheese. He trotted off towards the crow.
“Good morning” exclaimed the fox trying not to show his desire for the cheese. He flattered the crow because he wanted the cheese. He slyly and dramatically sweet-talked the crow. She was pleased but still didn’t open her mouth. He pleaded, “Crow, please sing for me”.
She opened her mouth, squawked, and hawed. The cheese tumbled; the fox carefully moved himself into position, and the cheese fell right smack dab in the middle of his mouth. He devoured it quickly because he was so hungry. He said to the crow “Next time don’t believe everything you hear”. But when he was walking off he felt guilty and the next day he gave the crow a present, a piece of cheese.
Micah had recently learned that "murder" was an old term for a group of crows. He put this piece of information to good use in his somewhat darker story.
Glibberglodder by Micah
Freddy the fox was famished. On this stormy morning during the Most Terribly Oppressive Drought in the Land, even the weather seemed to be mocking him. The sky was dark, and there were frequent flashes of lightning, but it was not raining. Wait, what was that he could catch a whiff of? Cheese, in this withered deciduous forest? He could tell it was Swiss cheese, his favorite. What he failed to notice was that the cheese was moldy. Who had the cheese? There, in the blasted oak still smoldering from the lightning strike. It was a crow; she looked sort of dull and very vain.
Exploiting her vanity, Freddy flattered the crow irresistibly. He had no idea that he was speaking to the Crafty and Evil Duchess of the Fourteenth Murder, Augulus. She was very fortunate to find this victim of which to test the new fungus she was growing on her cheese, Glibberglodder. Freddy begged Augulus to cantillate, and, playing her part to perfection, she did, croaking harshly.
The cheese plunged straight towards Freddy’s mouth, and, feeling proud, he basically inhaled the cheese. He wondered, though, why the crow was flying away, cackling. After all, wasn’t she the one who was tricked?
A few days later, Augulus scanned the forest, wanting to record her research. Ah, there he was. Lying flat out, and completely transformed into Swiss cheese, was Freddy the fox. Augulus cackled and called the 14th Murder to a celebrative feast.
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