Owner: Joy in the Morning URL:www.mamahooper.blogspot.com Join Date: Wed, 15 Nov 2006 23:29:31 -0600 Rating:0 Site Description: Finding joy in the hilarious antics of my 3 children, the love of my minister husband, and in the complete grace of the Father. I'm always searching for areas in my life that need change, which I, in turn, proceed to write about. I review children's boo Site statistics:Click here
Home 1970-01-01 00:59:59 (This is dedicated to my Mama. She instilled in me the desire to be a wife and mama - and my love for hearth and home comes from her enduring example.)Songby Henry Wadsworth LongfellowStay, stay at home, my heart, and rest;Home-keeping hearts are happiest,For those that wander they know not whereAre full of trouble and full of care;To stay at home is best.Weary and homesick and distressed,They wander east, they wander west,And are baffled and beaten and blown aboutBy the winds of the wilderness of doubt;To stay at home is best.Then stay at home, my heart, and rest;The bird is safest in its nest:O'er all that flutter their wings and flyA hawk is hovering in the sky;To stay at home is best.
For My Sister Friends 1970-01-01 00:59:59 I've been asking myself a question lately, as most mama's are wont to do. It's a tough question, but I think there's an answer, if we can look past who we are. Many times it's the reverse problem - we can't see who we are because we are identified by what we do. But that is not the case for me. I know who I am. I just want to know, at the end of a day so long and non-stop that I can't remember most of it......what do I do?I speak the words of truth - "I am a wife; a mama; a daughter of the King".But what do I do?I am easily anxious; pretty well organized; frequently impatient.But what do I do?Indeed.I minister to the weary.These days, my husband is visiting his congregation, writing his sermons and two classes for the week, preparing a memorial service for our dear Vivian, holding devos for teens from three separate churches, working through a graduate course online, handling finances that are quite complicated thanks to the WONDERFUL blessings of our supporters (I'm not com Read more:Friends
Weary... 1970-01-01 00:59:59 Oh, I am so tired.Have you ever gotten to this place? It's hard to move quickly - nearly impossible, really. I hope there are no emergencies tonight, since calling 911 would entail crawling to the kitchen, pulling the phone down to the floor, crawling to a drawer and looking up the number (since my brain is fried as well) and then misdialing 2 or 3 times. If I was successful in actually getting through, I would probably forget what I was calling for and just might end up having a conversation with the operator about whether or not she knows where I put my shampoo, and when she suggests looking in the shower, I would burst into tears because I can't believe what an idiot I am and oh, yes, could she send an ambulance because I think a couple of days in the hospital with a nurse at the other end of the emergency cord sounds really nice.Anyway, did I mention I'm tired? It's been a very draining weekend.The worst part about this, sisters, is that my hubby is getting sick. Actually, that
Micah Nathanael's 5th Birthday! 1970-01-01 00:59:59 Friday, September 22nd, Micah turned 5! We had a knight-themed party, complete with a pinata joust, and an archery range created by Daddy! Micah requested beef stew, bread, and apple pie - true medieval fare! We dressed him up as a king, and Corban became his squire; following him around, retrieving his arrows, etc. Lots of family came up for the special time, and boy, did the weather ever cooperate with a truly beautiful fall day! Enjoy the show! Read more:Birthday
Eliana Pearl 1970-01-01 00:59:59 This is my October Beauty. Okay, she was born in December, but isn't she a beauty? Read more:Eliana
, Pearl
Autumn Morning Walk 1970-01-01 00:59:59 We took an early morning walk today, hoping to see some deer with their young like we did last year at this time. The boys tiptoed past the meadow, then broke into a full run down the trail. Eliana snuggled inside Daddy's sweatshirt, and I was free to breathe in the woodsy, fresh autumn smell of my favorite kind of morning.Lord, keep me peaceful today. Help me to remember the glory of the sunrise, the beauty of the twilight, and the wonderful madness in the middle. Sunday mornings are such a busy rush, and I can miss my communion with you so completely that I am grieved for the rest of the week. Help me to put aside my worries and desire for a "proper" schedule and just BE. With YOU.As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for you, O God. Psalm 42:1 Read more:Autumn
, Morning
Inevitable, Repetitive, Wonderful Change! 1970-01-01 00:59:59 Fall is coming!Every once in awhile, a breeze laden with the scents of fall floats past me. Flowers at the end of their season. Leaves. Chimney smoke. My heart begins to race while these aromas convey the promise of the season; full-time schoolwork; corn on the cob; pumpkins so big my sons hands cannot even meet around them; final cuttings of grass; warm, comforting fires in the fireplace; cool, evening walks on the trail; musty boxes full of autumn decorations being brought into the house; thick, bulky sweaters; pumpkin spice candles; hot, hearty soups; afternoons of leaf raking. Of course, there is the occasional freeze-out, when we've left the windows open all night for the cool, fragrant air and wake up with frozen noses and toes, as well as the intermittent morning that the leaves and crisp, cool air are calling me so loudly that I cannot focus on school (that's right - I can't focus!). So the boys are released to accompany me on an excursion to the park, picnic blanket and sch Read more:Inevitable
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...a second glimpse...
103. Hot water - oh, I'm ... 1970-01-01 00:59:59 ...a second glimpse
...103. Hot water
- oh, I'm so thankful.104. Carnations from my husband105. Flexibility. Which kind, you ask? Well, both, I suppose.106. Glowing lamposts107. Blowing curtains108. Comforting nightlights109. Dental floss111. Toilet paper111. Canning jars112. Gala apples113. Herbs, especially Marjoram114. Pine Creek115. Hummingbirds116. Sunlight breaking through the clouds117. Rainbows118. The senior saints in our church family119. My parents120. Ivy121. Heavy platters122. Potlucks!123. Hand towels124. Baby monitors125. My rocking chair126. Memory127. Timelines128. Sofa tables129. Our parsonage; small it may be, but so home, for now130. Brooms131. My new vacuum132. Tomatoes, warm from the garden133. The mountains134. Chalkboards135. Prayer…and my sons…15. The dike we play on in the back16. Socks17. Puddles so we can wear our new boots18. Every other day cause we get cold cereal!19. Kissing Eliana20. Getting a hug after a spank (Micah)21. Pencil sharpeners22. The pu Read more:Hot water
Generational Gifts 1970-01-01 00:59:59 Giving thanks today for generations past.My grandmother prayed faithfully for her children, her children's future spouses, and her children's children. We are still seeing the fruits of those prayers today, generations later.Praise the Lord!Blessed is the man who fears the Lord, who finds great delight in his commands.His children will be mighty in the land;the generation of the upright will be blessed. Psalm 112:1-2174. My grandmotherI have an abundance of riches. An embarrassing amount, really. I know it to be so, yet sometimes my mind becomes sluggish; it cannot unearth one single gift.Those are the moments I turn to my boys and ask them what they are most thankful for. Effortlessly, the gifts roll off their tongues, my hand fairly flies to keep up as I write them down. And my mind clears, my eyes open; again the precious blessings are vivid and apparent, through the eyes of the ones who sit right in front of me. They hug my neck, make me laugh, make me cry, make me fearful, make Read more:Gifts
The Gift of Community 1970-01-01 00:59:59 The last few gifts on this week's list centered upon some events that have happened in our tiny church recently.We minister at a congregation of 25-30, when everyone comes. It is the church my husband grew up in, and many of the people my sons now love were here when Kevin was a child. That in itself is a gift, but there is so much more.219. Corban, reading the opening scripture to the people, with words like "festal procession", and "boughs".220. Baptism221. Several denominations under one roof for a harvest meal222. Potlucks with too much food, made by a handful of people. Loaves and fishes.223. Messages of salt and light, igniting hope and encouragement224. Little boy voices singing their Bible verses to the congregation225. Smiles on the faces of lonely people, holding my daughter and talking to my sons226. Reconciliation 227. My delightful family, dressed in their Sunday best.228. Beautiful, old hymns229. Six new visitors to our congregation230. Little boy laughter during Daddy'
My Cup (and my toilet!) Overflows 1970-01-01 00:59:59 My exercise program is dancing to "The Fiddler on the Roof" soundtrack with my boys while holding Eliana on my hip.My music scene is a drum performance by The Rockets, (Corban and Micah) complete with metal bowls, trash cans and Koolaid spoons.My reading material involves "I Can Read" books, and little board books that have the corners chewed off.My decorating scheme has accents of army men, tinker toys, and legos.My sleep is full of interrupted dreams that never get a chance to flow, so they end up being quite strange and disturbing.My wardrobe consists of skirts with spit-up all the way down the front, and t-shirts with stretched out necklines from little hands searching for her meal.My dining experience is not an experience, it's a blur. I eat too fast and that's probably why my stomach hurts.My school schedule wraps itself around my cooking and nursing schedule. Corban reads to me while I punch down the dough. He practices his handwriting while I'm throwing number beanbags w
Martha, Martha... 1970-01-01 00:59:59 I want to be a Martha
...Now hold on, I know what you're thinking. Let me finish.I want to be a Martha who has been lovingly reprimanded by the Savior. She is not the same woman she was before. She now seeks the joy she was lacking before Yeshua spoke those sweet, painful, truthful words; "Martha, Martha! You are worried and upset over all these details! There is only one thing worth being concerned about. Mary has discovered it, and it will not be taken away from her."Luke 10:41-42 The story doesn't end here!He knows she loves Him, and that in her rush to serve Him with the best she has to offer, she has lost the true meaning behind His definition of the word servant... sacrifice. Yet, when He looks at her, she knows He does not ask her to stop her work; only to be aware of what is most important about her work.She is feeding a roomful of people who desperately want to soak in everything He has to say, knowing that there may be a time He will not be with them. Her error is not in ov
Ruminating 1970-01-01 00:59:59 Since Sunday morning, the words of this hymn have rolled through my mind. Not quietly, not gently. Persistently.Holy, holy, holy Lord,God of Hosts on high adored!Who like me Thy praise should sing? Oh Almighty King!Holy, holy, holy Lord,God of Hosts on high, adored!You can sing a song like this for years, and suddenly the words leap at you in a way you cannot escape.Who like me?I've always loved the bridge to this song - "On Zion's Glorious Summit". The verses, too, are beautiful, reflecting the hosts from Revelation:On Zion's glorious summit, stooda num'rous host redeemed by bloodThey hymned their King in strains divineI heard the song and strove to join.But the bridge, sung softly, in piano, is exquisite. For its' harmonies, and now, for its' words, touching me still, deeply, two days later."Who like me..." and then I could sing no more.One tiny voice surrounded by the mighty voices of creation - the crescendo of crashing waves, the chorus of flowers opening at dawn, accompanie
t.d. 1970-01-01 00:59:59 I am his t.d.Tiny dancer.While I am most certainly no longer tiny, and the way I move could not be termed dancing by any stretch of the imagination, there was a time when my constant little-girl movements brought delight to my Papa.He nicknamed me t.d. because I could not stop dancing. Any music would inspire me; John Denver's "The Eagle and the Hawk", or "Love, Crucified, Arose" by Michael Card. Away I flew - great leaps and twirls, arms perfectly rounded above my head. I could not help it - it overwhelmed me. I brought him delight, for we are so alike, and the emotion we both felt to the music and words made itself apparent very differently in us - mine in joyful dance, his through playing the violin, or writing poetry.My Papa is a quiet presence. Kind eyes, gentle hands, dry humor. I have loved his tender heart since the day I was born - for I have it, too. I could never stand to see him hurt, nor could I bear his sadness. Even my Mama earned some scorn from me when she would get a
Children's Book Monday 1970-01-01 00:59:59 Kids love adventure. And they especially love reading about other kids who get to take adventures; particularly if it's something they will never get the chance to do.Case in point: our book selection this week.Mailing Mayby Michael O. TunnellIllustrated by Ted Rand Little May, who lives in Grangeville, wants to visit her grandmother a million miles away in Lewiston, Idaho, but her parents can't afford a train ticket! May tries to get a job to earn the money, but she's too little.The next morning, though, her Pa packs her up and takes her to the post office, where he proceeds to talk the postmaster into mailing May to Lewiston! They classify her as a baby chick, then stick 53 cents worth of stamps on her coat, and off she goes!This book is based on the true story of five-year-old Charlotte May Pierstorff, who was actually mailed from Grangeville to Lewiston Idaho in 1914 by the U.S. Post Office.It's fascinating the lengths these people went to in order for May to visit her grandmot Read more:Children
, Monday
Breathing. 1970-01-01 00:59:59 He heard...412. Papa, breathing - finally, on his own.413. Steady, beating hearts414. Papa's green eyes, open after a long sleep415. His laughter416. His crooked teeth417. The way he moved in his anesthetized sleep only when Mama talked to him418. His ring, worn on a chain around Mama's neck419. His swollen, gentle, violin playing fingers420. Being told he is a textbook patient421. His wonderful nurses, fussing over him constantly422. Lots of siblings to help carry the load423. My wise, strong, capable brothers424. Drinking chai tea with my siblings as we play the Farming Game and laugh, forgetting for a time.424. Our path to the Father through Jesus425. The opportunity to speak with Him anytime426. Papa's slurred words to Mama before being wheeled into the operating room, "I've been having good fellowship with the Lord, sweetheart."427. Technology428. Oxygen429. Thankful for wonder - it keeps God in His place with me - as GOD430. A husband who takes time out of his days to teach t
Graham Cracker Dreams 1970-01-01 00:59:59 I know I talk about him a lot. A. Lot.But my husband is a gift.Saturday, we made "gingerbread" houses using graham crackers instead. The bowls were filled with candy, napkins at the ready, Bing Crosby singing Christmas carols on the stereo, when my husband joined us, kneeling at the table, ready to make his own little house. As he made the children laugh and helped them with the frosting, my heart overflowed.He didn't have to join us. He had been lounging on the couch, watching the game, enjoying a slow, well-deserved Saturday afternoon; practically sleeping already. But the addition of the big, bearded man at the candy-litttered table was precious.My husband is a minister. We live in a tiny parsonage. The property is not our own, yet he works in the yard weekly, involving our sons in the maintenance. He longs for land of his own, with a lawn to mow. A large garden to till. Fences to fix.And as he worked with the frosting and candy, he good naturedly joked that if he couldn't Read more:Graham
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All is Well... 1970-01-01 00:59:59 He's home.Tonight he stepped over the threshold that he was wheeled over on a stretcher less than a week ago.The front door was "wrapped" in a present that said "Welcome Home, Papa! We love you!"Candles were lit, lamps burning, his favorite music playing. All in an attempt to make his homecoming light, bright and merry.But perhaps most poignant was Mama's decision in packing the shirt for him to wear home - choosing the very one he was wearing when his heart attack occurred. It was already washed and hanging in the closet - and she chose it because of its' significance; too great to stuff it away and never use it again - why not have it worn at a time of rejoicing?A time we could very well be spending at a funeral - and instead, we are looking into his sparkling green eyes and welcoming him home ourselves!All is well.I thoroughly enjoyed the sight of my Mama and Papa, walking up the stairs, hand in hand. And my heart said, "All is well."The words to a song of the same name have been
And Yet Another Gift 1970-01-01 00:59:59 Wonderful day.Feeling so blessed to have such wonderful family.Incredibly grateful for another year in my life, and the life of my family; healthy, strong, close.Feeling a little bit of a desire to host my own day of Thanks someday - but for now, content to work side by side with my dear sisters and Mama.Brushing shoulders. Laughing. Anticipating each others' movements. Seeing our children enjoying each other; our husbands, riotous as they watch the game. Embracing tired shoulders. Packing food for each other to take home and feed our families.I have a tiny apron for my baby girl. Hoping, preparing, praying…for the day when she will join me in the kitchen.Gathering knowledge, tucking away hints; but even more, longing for the Father to lead me into the kind of motherhood that draws my daughter to my side, eager to help; eager to serve. Feeling her eyes watching me.When they are discouraged, may I smile at them. May my look of approval be precious to them. (Job 29:24, personalized
In Meditamentum et Adsum 1970-01-01 00:59:59 Sadly, too busy to add to my gifts list. Happily, not too busy to be thankful!Thankful for the family that keeps me hopping. Thankful for the home that demands my care so it can be run smoothly. Thankful for my health that enables me to attend to my duties. So thankful for the gift of life!I'm inspired by the Proverbs 31 woman, whose family has no fear of the cold, for they are warm and well-cared for. Whether clothed in scarlet, as the cardinal, or simple thermal underwear, they must feel loved, and a priority.When I can see the surface, I will break through and return to blogland. In the meantime, I will remember to hold the quiet when I can. No chasing the wind here, just managing my household and preparing it for the winter. Have a wonderful Thanksgiving! I am certain that our gifts lists will grow immensely over the next week or two - surrounded by family and enveloped in the love and care of God.How can we help but overflow with gratitude?
Children's Book Monday - Henry Hikes to Fitchburg 1970-01-01 00:59:59 Henry Hikes to Fitchburgby D.B. JohnsonThis children's book is based on Henry David Thoreau's book, Walden.Two bears, Henry and his friend, agree to go to Fitchburg to see the country. Henry decides to walk, while his friend chooses to work and earn his train ticket. "We'll see who gets there first!"Henry's friend works odd jobs, earning 10 cents here, 5 cents there, while Henry enjoys hopping rocks across the river, walking on stone walls, and crossing a swamp.My boys had a fine time adding Henry's friends' pennies to see how much he had, and they enjoyed seeing the beautiful pieces of nature that Henry delighted in. We also appreciated the short biography at the end of the book that spoke of Thoreau, and his love of nature.Thoreau also loved to take long walks through the woods and fields, and was never without pockets full of pencils, paper, his jackknife, some string, a spyglass, magnifying glass and his flute. He thought people could live quite happily without big houses, lo Read more:Children
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Recipe for delight: This week's book selection. Tw... 1970-01-01 00:59:59 Recipe for delight
: This week's book selection
. Two sweet (and a tiny bit sweaty) boys (or girls!) smooshed on either side of you. A comfy couch, a rainy day. Less than ten minutes of your time before they're off to play again. Stir it all together - and you've got a delightful memory.The Best Pet of AllBy David LaRochelle, Illustrated by Hanako WakiyamaThis is a cute little book about a boy who really wants a dog! But when mother says "No!" to his repeated requests, he asks for a dragon instead. What ensues is a funny little tale that has an "Aha!" ending. My boys thought it was quite clever, running to tell Daddy when he got home about how they figured out what really happened!I love the 1950's style illustrations - the retro diner; mom in capri's, ironing and washing dishes - and I always appreciate books that have pages full of the story, but also fun little normal things going on in the background. (I think about Randi from I Have to Say… when I look at my fa
Children's Book Monday 1970-01-01 00:59:59 Ask anyone who knows me; I love to read. As a child, my mama would say, "Put that book down - it's a beautiful day! Go get some fresh air!" She would usually find me a little later, sitting under a tree with my book.Now there are typically 3-4 books on my nightstand for bedtime, according to my mood. In my young wifehood, before children, my days usually included an hour or two of reading. But in the last few years, my personal reading time has become limited to bedtime only (astonishing, I know, with three children and a minister husband). At first, this was very difficult for me - I longed to lose myself in a book a hundred times a day. But then I discovered something wonderful.Reading to my kids helps fill that longing in me! I love it! And so do they. On a normal day, we will probably read up to half a dozen books together, as well as a chapter from a book like "Farmer Boy", which we are enjoying right now. I have discovered so many wonderful children's books - with great message Read more:Children
, Monday
Our Jesse Tree 1970-01-01 00:59:59 The day after Thanksgiving.The Hooper Family's appointed time to drive to a tree farm in the mountains, where we trek around the vast property until we spot our tree. Protectively, and, I admit, a little jealously, we guard our precious tree, until someone on a 4-wheeler rides down and cuts it for us, then drives it back up to be shaken, wrapped and passed into our waiting hands.We always remember to pack our favorite Christmas music, which is strictly forbidden until the day after Thanksgiving. Joyfully, with our beautiful tree carefully tied to the top of our van, we drive the hour-and-a-half home, when we stow the tree gently in the garage until we've unpacked from visiting family.Out come the cheese balls and crackers. The summer sausage. The cookies and eggnog. Out come the boxes of treasured ornaments - and some not-so-treasured ones as well. (Honey, I'm sorry, but I really wish that basketball-dunking Santa would break. Truly.) Clear lights strung around the tree first, and t Read more:Jesse
Humble Pie With a Dollop of Grace 1970-01-01 00:59:59 It was a lovely evening.We sat around my in-laws dining room table and laughed while Corban and Micah filled their plates yet again with turkey, cranberry jelly and mashed potatoes. It was funny because we had just eaten Thanksgiving dinner at my brother's home, not quite an hour before! But they are growing boys, so we just sat back and watched, remembering a time when we could eat whatever we wanted.The conversation flowed over slices of pie and coffee. It really was enjoyable, but I was feeling quite irritated that I had needed to remind the boys several times to say "Thank you", and "Yes" instead of "Yeah".They know these things - I've taught them to be polite their whole lives! Are they on politeness overload from this long day of visiting family? I grumbled to myself, wiping the baby's nose and handing her the toy she'd dropped."Kevin, would you like pecan or pumpkin pie?" my mother-in-law asked him as he eyed the beautiful pastries on the table. "Or perhaps a slice of both?" Read more:Humble
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It's My Fault. I Taught Him to Read. 1970-01-01 00:59:59 We have two framed newspapers hanging in our living room. One, from 1939, headlining that Hitler is invading Poland. The other is sixty-five years old.Sixty-five years old today. So I shouldn't have been suprised when Corban, while "playing" Battleship (by himself), began this conversation with me.Cor: *big sigh* "Oh, man."Me: "What is it, honey?", scooping another bite of rice cereal into Eliana's mouth.Cor: "Well, I'm getting attacked by the big guys now."Me: "Oh? Who are the big guys?"Cor: "You know. Hitler."Me: "Ooooh. He is one of the big guys."Cor: "Yeah. And now he's attacking Poland (said "Pauland")".Me: "That's right, he tends to do that."Cor: "But you want to know the worst part?"Me: "Of course!"Cor: "He's allied with the Japs.".......silence..........Ah, a new reader. An historical newspaper using 1940's lingo. What's a homeschooling mama to do? Read more:Fault
So Much Gift... 1970-01-01 00:59:59 Finally, our tree is up!Circumstances being what they were, my husband took the boys tree-hunting while I was staying with my family. They had a grand time; it took two attempts to get up the snow packed mountain, then Kevin hiked across the creek and through some very thorny bushes to reach the one he had set his sights on. (He fell in the water on the way back across, but I wasn't supposed to tell you that.)I came home to a beautiful, tall, narrow, woodsy-smelling tree. I couldn't have chosen it better myself, and it touches me that they went to that trouble so it would be ready when I returned.We spent Tuesday evening decorating, setting out our few pieces of a Dicken's Christmas village that Kevin and I started collecting early in our marriage, followed by hanging treasured ornaments from years past on the scented, green branches. Eliana spent the evening wide-eyed, looking from the tree, to Daddy, to me, then back again. If she could speak, I just know she would say, (affect
In "Other" Words... 1970-01-01 00:59:59 "I am the one holding the keys to the atmosphere in our home" Terri Maxwell, Homeschooling With a Meek and Quiet SpiritWhat an awesome, and sometimes, unwanted responsibility. To carry the burden of setting the tone for the day bears such weight. And such power.I cannot investigate the "why" of this quote. I do hold the keys, and so, with faith, I accept that and now consider how I use them.I recognize that I set the thermostat in our home. I also recognize that there have been times my family probably wished they could set the temperature "warmer", to remove the arctic chill brought on by my hurt feelings. And I'm sure they've wished they could move the gauge "cooler", to relieve the heat caused by my burning anger.Earth's atmosphere, made up of a layer of gases surrounding it and retaining its' gravity, is commonly known as "air".Would I deny my family air?Certainly not.But I have denied them a smile that would have started out the day just right. I've Read more:Words
A Reminder For a Busy Mama 1970-01-01 00:59:59 A day wasted on others is not wasted on one's self. -Charles DickensAlthough I see time spent working for my family as gift, not waste, I like this quote rather well. For it reminds me to remove the focus from myself.I must not let me get in the way of serving them. A short post, simply a moment to share what I am holding fast to in the midst of this busy season.Be poured out, friends; be spilled, overflowed. Here is His promise for you, and here again.It is no waste; go and gift yourself. It is your pleasure, is it not? Read more:Reminder
Children's Book Monday 1970-01-01 00:59:59 If you are searching for something to read to your children this CHRISTmas, first read them this, and then this.Did you do it?Okay, now you may read this week's review!Mortimer's Christmas MangerWritten by Karma WilsonIllustrations by Jane ChapmanFrom the mouse-eye view of Mortimer, we learn the lesson of making room for Jesus in our lives.He needs a new house! And next to the twinkling Christmas tree is a home just his size. The only trouble is, little statue-people already live there! But no bother. One by one, he lugs them out and takes their place, snuggling in the manger.But!Every night when he returns home, the statues are back in place! Then, he overhears something.The very special story of Jesus is being told, and Mortimer learns whose house he shares, and where exactly he belongs.If you have ever read and loved any of Karma Wilson's other books, you will love this one even more, for it has a beautiful message.Just be prepared for your children to beg you never to set anothe Read more:Children
, Monday
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