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October 13, 2003 Dear Gabby, My husband and I have a four-year-old daughter who’ll start school next fall. She’s an only child and we’re trying hard to make the right decisions for her life. The big one we’re dealing with right now relates to her education. Not only were the two of us educated in different ways, we have people in our church who’ve chosen all the options for their kids and we’ve heard from many of them in recent months. The home-schooling parents told us that their way was the best. They insist that young children should be protected as much as possible while they’re small so that when they finally have to face the world with all its evil, they’ll be strong enough to resist it. Then there are the parents who send their kids to the Christian school owned by a church a couple of miles away from us. They’ve told us that their kids have the best of both worlds. They get the social interaction and the opportunities to interact with their peers—all in a safe, Christian atmosphere. Parents of kids in public schools have been less vocal about their choice, but their kids seem to do fine where they are, too. (The public schools in our area are considered excellent.) We just don’t know what to choose for our family and our daughter. I find myself looking at the teenagers and young adults in our church and comparing them, remembering how each was educated. I’ve considered the young adults who’ve left the church once they grew up and wondered what could’ve been done differently and how their education contributed to who they are now. Gabby, could you give us some advice? We really want to be able to look back at our parenting and feel that we’ve done the best we could for our daughter. Endless Educational Options in Ohio
Dear Endless Education, Of the three apple trees my wise Papa planted to commemorate the births of his children, my tree is the smallest. He was new at the business of horticulture—just like he was new at the job of parenting. But he and my sweet Mama were determined to do their best at both. I was born in the spring and Papa told me later about how concerned he was that the intensities of the weather would harm his new little tree. So he made the decision to first plant “The Gabby Tree” in a big pot. That way he could carry it to the shade during the heat of the day and bring it into the lean-to during the coldest part of the winter. He didn’t want it to be adversely affected by the wind and snow. He was even concerned about the rainy weather because, sometimes, the rain would come down very hard and the small trunk would bend and wave in the wind. “So,” Papa told me the year before he died, while we were out picking bushels of apples from ‘The Stanley Tree,’ “every time it started raining, I’d put on my galoshes, hat and rain slicker and go out to get the tiny ‘Gabby Tree’ in the pot and carry it inside.” “When was the tree left outside? When did you finally plant it?” I asked him, glancing over at the six or seven lonely apples on “The Gabby Tree.” He looked at the red apple in his hand, shined it a bit on his shirt, and then sighed. “Only when the sun was just right and the breeze wasn’t too strong and the temperature was mild. I left it in the pot until I thought it was strong enough to plant, but, by then, the roots had grown around into a ball and they had no idea how to spread out in the wide-open ground.” So, what was the result of all his tender loving care? He produced a sickly, weak tree that barely survived when it was finally transplanted outside. When the apples started appearing, the tree produced a half-bushel at the most. And, even when he was busy taking care of a brand new “Susannah Tree” six years later, he was still giving a considerable amount of his time and attention to the spindly “Gabby Tree.” “The Susannah Tree” did much better. My wise Papa planted it outside, near my tree, when it was young. He still cared for it, but this time he left it outside in the weather and used stakes and trunk wrapping to protect it from the worst of the elements. He gave it the opportunity to dig deep into the soil to produce strong roots. Stanley was born two years after Susannah and Papa didn’t have much time to devote to tree growing. He spent long hours at his barbershop working to support his growing family, and with Mama busy with three little ones, he needed to help with things around the house in his spare time. So how did “The Stanley Tree” do? Papa managed to get it planted a few feet away from Susannah’s tree, but that’s about all. And, surprisingly, that tree grew to be the strongest of them all. It also produced the sweetest, crunchiest apples. (I still enjoy a few each fall, although I’m no longer crunching into them with my ancient teeth. I ask for it to be cut up into bite-sized pieces first!) We all assume that, because Papa didn’t have the opportunity to “baby” that tree, it had no choice but to reach down farther and wider to make itself the strongest of all. So, what does Papa’s horticultural efforts have to do with education? A lot, actually. I know the world of public education is full of challenges. There’s the fact that many educators aren’t godly people, much of the curriculum is problematic, and the atmosphere can be very sinful. I understand all that. However, I believe that teaching an Apostolic child to be Apostolic in the midst of the world—from the time they’re very young—is the best way to prepare them to be “in the world but not of the world” as adults. Just like Papa’s efforts with “The Gabby Tree,” it seems that the more we work to shelter our children, the weaker they are when it’s time for them to face the real challenges of life. The sooner we present them with opportunities to produce deep roots, the deeper their roots will be. Am I saying that every single child should be sent out into the public school system? Not at all! What I am saying is that parents need to consider what kind of adults they want their children to be, and then parent them confidently with that end result in mind. I know many, many Christians who were educated in parochial schools and at home, and, although most of them grew up just fine, it’s my observation that the strongest, most vibrant Christians are the ones who had to face the world at an early age and learn to overcome it. They seem to be the ones who reach out to others for God. They seem to have learned how to talk about spiritual issues to non-spiritual people with calm confidence. Why wouldn’t they? They’ve been doing it since they were five years old! Would I rescue a floundering child from the public school system? Absolutely. But like my father did with “The Susannah Tree,” I’d first provide as much support as necessary to help to strengthen him/her and only pull him/her out as a last resort. Of course, you and your child will have to live with the choice you ultimately make. Just make it prayerfully, with the goal of helping her to become a strong and fruitful adult Christian who’s unafraid to face the storms the world throws at her. You won’t be sorry. And the hungry world will be glad she’s there to feed them, too! Sincerely Sincere, Gabby
ninetyandnine.com © 2003, ninetyandnine.com --------- Gabrigail VanBurden has been offering advice for longer than most of you have been alive. Email your practical Apostolic life questions to Gabby@ninetyandnine.com and be prepared for some straight answers! |
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