I'm posting this partly since I have all of the memory work printable on one sheet and partly to keep me motivated to plan and keep up with it all. We've done pretty well with our Bible reading, but our memory work hasn't been getting done lately because I haven't been planning it in advance properly. So I'm going to try to post it every week to help me think it through and stay motivated.
- Genesis 16-25
- Leading Little Ones to God (Schoolland), chs. 72-76
- Baby Island by Carol Ryrie Brink
- Kingfisher Young Knowledge: Solar System (Goldsmith)
- Worldwise: Space (Stott)
- Escape North! The Story of Harriet Tubman (Kulling)
- Young Abe Lincoln: The Frontier Days, 1809-1837 (Harness)
- Abe Lincoln Goes To Washington 1837-1865 (Harness)
Genesis 1:2-5 (ESV)
2The earth was without form and void, and darkness was over the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God was hovering over the face of the waters.
3And God said, "Let there be light," and there was light.
4And God saw that the light was good. And God separated the light from the darkness.
5God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night. And there was evening and there was morning, the first day.
Poem of the Week:
I think that I shall never see A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the sweet earth's flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.
Song of the Week:
"This Is My Father's World"
This is my Father’s world, and to my listening ears All nature sings, and round me rings the music of the spheres. This is my Father’s world: I rest me in the thought Of rocks and trees, of skies and seas; His hand the wonders wrought.
This is my Father’s world, the birds their carols raise, The morning light, the lily white, declare their Maker’s praise. This is my Father’s world: He shines in all that’s fair; In the rustling grass I hear Him pass; He speaks to me everywhere.
Words by Maltbie D. Babcock