The Little Prince and the Education of Wild Things

Reminders from children's books for grown-up readers and writers (and book launch team info too!)

First day of school: “We’re going to pose like Calvin!”

This Tuesday morning, Williams Homeschool held its first day of classes for this academic year. Then this coming Monday, the family patriarch heads back into the classroom for his first day of the new semester.

He is unlikely to pose like Calvin.

The Importance of Not Being Excessively Serious

We finished the first read-aloud of the new school year with my five-year-old (although nine-year-old joined as well): Antoine de Saint-Exupéry’s classic, The Little Prince. It is a book about, among other things, the beauty of the imagination and the contrast between the imagination of adults and the stultifying seriousness of grown-ups.

At one point, the narrator reflects on his memories of the little prince:

In the end, I’m sure to get certain more important details all wrong. But here you’ll have to forgive me. My friend never explained anything. Perhaps he thought I was like himself. But I, unfortunately, cannot see a sheep through the sides of a crate. I may be a little like the grown-ups. I must have grown old.

In this book, to grow old means to lose one’s imagination and to refuse to see beauty in such ordinary (and ephemeral) things as flowers. But does it have to be? Can we not still continue dreaming and seeking beauty in everything around us? Such is, I am convinced, the Creator’s call and blessing for us even in this life. And such is the call to us as educators: to cultivate a healthy imagination that helps us see (and seek) truth and beauty in this confusing world.

In this regard, The Little Prince pairs well with another of my kids’ favorites—Where the Wild Things Are (and yes, of course we have it in Latin. Why do you ask?). In that book, little Max displays an over-abundance of imagination, which lands him in a time-out in his room. But his imagination also sends him on a journey to a land far, far away.

Reading this book as a mother, I wonder: how do we cultivate our children’s imaginations productively, while also trying to instill in our children respect for others (after all, Max got in timeout for misbehaving—very creatively done, but still)? How do we encourage our children to think, dream, and create in a world that is increasingly mechanized? The simple answers on which we continue to lean: offer everyone lots of time to read together and separately, time and space to create art, and time to enjoy nature.

Of course, sometimes, giving kids space to dream, think, and research yields unexpected results. As adults, we need such space too. All writing, even of the most research-oriented and fact-reporting type, requires at least some degree of creative vision. But then, in ways we do not consider enough, so does the work of care-taking—of people, of animals, of houses, of gardens. Part of our nature as God’s image-bearers is to be creators in little things every day ourselves—and to take joy in this creative activity, whatever shape it may take.

That Time My Nine-Year-Old Bought a Piece of the Berlin Wall

That time was just over two weeks ago. The place? Ebay. He used his chores money, converting a few weeks of scrubbing toilets and vacuuming into this tangible reward. It arrived, appropriately enough, on our first day of school.

If you’re skeptical whether it’s real, I’ll note that it came with its own certificate of authenticity.

Just a boy and his piece of the Berlin wall

Book Launch Team

My book Mothers, Children, and the Body Politic is coming from InterVarsity Press on October 15th, and Launch Team registration is now open. Think of it as a book club opportunity to read the book and discuss it early with me and with other readers.