Being bilingual is such an awesome privilege! But it's one that most Americans don't really understand. The vast majority of Americans are monolingual, speaking and understanding only one language; English. I was among them, even though I studied German in high school and college. If I had had the opportunity, I would have been able to get by in Germany with my limited knowledge of the language. But it wouldn't have made me comfortable!
After college, I began to study linguistics and a whole new world opened up to me. My next step was to learn a little bit of a language that was very different from any I had ever encountered. I did OK, and I seemed to have a knack for understanding the meaning the other speaker was trying to communicate even though I didn't really understand the words. But I digress...
My husband and I started on our journey to becoming bilingual when we arrived in Brazil in 1974. After two weeks in the country, we moved in with a Brazilian family who spoke only Portuguese. Believe me, that was NOT comfortable. But we knew that the only way to really learn the language was to immerse ourselves in it. It was incredibly taxing and tiring to struggle to understand and communicate in a language we were just barely learning. But it was one of the best decisions we could ever have made and it put us way ahead in our understanding not only of the language, but also the culture of the people of Brazil.
Fast forward to our children - they had the "misfortune" of living in an American/British missionary community where English was the language of choice. So we had to be proactive in exposing them to Portuguese. We sent them to Portuguese speaking preschool. Our son learned how to mix all of his food into one homogeneous mixture on his plate before he ate but not much Portuguese and he beseeched me daily with his big, round eyes to come back and get him soon. Our daughter who was a little older, went to school kicking and screaming every day, but in spite of that, developed a passionate love for Portuguese, Brazil and everything Brazilian. She also managed to become truly bilingual.
Fast forward again to our third son - he was almost 7 years younger than our middle son and even though by this time we were living in a place that allowed him to have much more interaction and exposure to Portuguese, he was not learning it well. So we debated about putting him into a Brazilian school for 4th grade. I sought John's counsel. He was the one who had pleaded with me not to leave him very long at the preschool. He said, "Mom, I would give an arm and a leg to be able to speak Portuguese well." That sealed it. Off to a Brazilian school for our 4th grader. He learned Portuguese well enough to have pretty flawless pronunciation and took it upon himself to correct ours at every opportunity.
Fast forward yet again to our grandson - our expectation was that he would grow up learning both languages at the same time; English from his mother and Portuguese from his Brazilian father. That expectation was dashed when his father left when our grandson was just beginning to talk. So we now have a 5 year old who needs to learn Portuguese and who isn't the least bit interested in doing so. Now what? We are looking for a way to endow him with the incredible gift of being a bilingual. We're starting to speak Portuguese for at least part of the time during every meal. Since our grandson loves to talk, something is bound to happen.
By the way, our own Portuguese improved dramatically when we invited a young Brazilian woman to come and stay with us for awhile. She came intending to stay for about a month to six weeks and ended up living with us for 4 years instead. Maybe we need to do that again.
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Monday, September 12, 2011
I Remember 9/11
The image is forever burned into my memory. We were in a very remote little town in Brazil visiting a pastor and his family and had just returned from a spin around the town. Suddenly our host rushed out of the house shouting, "Come quick, come quick. Something terrible is happening." We ran in and watched the television screen in horror. We could barely grasp what we were seeing. Within a minute or two we watched as a plane flew into the second tower. How was this possible? Wasn't this America? Nothing of this magnitude had ever happened before in our great "land of the free" and "home of the brave." How could it be happening now? It was impossible to comprehend. Our hosts were horrified and dumbfounded as well. Seemingly, this invincible giant called America wasn't really invincible after all. It was all being played out right before our eyes on the TV screen.
The atmosphere became one of somber reflection rather like that of a funeral. Was the America we knew now dead and gone? Would the American people really rise up and rout the forces attempting to destroy it from within? Only time would tell what the implications and ramifications of this historic event would be.
The immediate response was a spirit of courage, compassion, neighborliness and love that rose up among the people, not only of New York, but all over the country. It was demonstrated vividly by so many who gave their time, resources, energy and even their lives on behalf of others. Churches opened their doors and throngs turned to God for answers.
Now 10 years later, it seems as though the Trojan army hidden within the "horse" is winning. In the name of tolerance, God is being forced out of our schools, our military, our important events, our lives. In a country that was founded by people who sought freedom of religion, we now have organizations with names like "Freedom From Religion." The faith that made America great and the faith that equipped the nation to deal with such a tragic event as 9/11 is being stripped away and we don't know how it is happening. There seems to be freedom for all religions except Christianity in this land that was founded on the principles that all Christians hold dear.
But there is hope. I believe that even though we as a nation may be facing even darker hours than that of 9/11, God still stands ready to bless America. We must do our part to compassionately and kindly stand up for what is right and true in the same way that many of our forefathers did. Are there enough Americans left who truly believe that America is worth fighting for? Worth living for? Worth dying for? Only time will tell...
The atmosphere became one of somber reflection rather like that of a funeral. Was the America we knew now dead and gone? Would the American people really rise up and rout the forces attempting to destroy it from within? Only time would tell what the implications and ramifications of this historic event would be.
The immediate response was a spirit of courage, compassion, neighborliness and love that rose up among the people, not only of New York, but all over the country. It was demonstrated vividly by so many who gave their time, resources, energy and even their lives on behalf of others. Churches opened their doors and throngs turned to God for answers.
Now 10 years later, it seems as though the Trojan army hidden within the "horse" is winning. In the name of tolerance, God is being forced out of our schools, our military, our important events, our lives. In a country that was founded by people who sought freedom of religion, we now have organizations with names like "Freedom From Religion." The faith that made America great and the faith that equipped the nation to deal with such a tragic event as 9/11 is being stripped away and we don't know how it is happening. There seems to be freedom for all religions except Christianity in this land that was founded on the principles that all Christians hold dear.
But there is hope. I believe that even though we as a nation may be facing even darker hours than that of 9/11, God still stands ready to bless America. We must do our part to compassionately and kindly stand up for what is right and true in the same way that many of our forefathers did. Are there enough Americans left who truly believe that America is worth fighting for? Worth living for? Worth dying for? Only time will tell...
We, too, born to freedom, and believing in freedom, are willing to fight to maintain freedom. We, and all others who believe as deeply as we do, would rather die on our feet than live on our knees.
Franklin Delano Roosevelt
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Thankful Thursday (Even Though it's Sunday)
I saw a post yesterday titled Thankful Thursday and got permission from Misty to "steal" her idea. But Thursday, Friday and Saturday all got away from me. Here it is Sunday, but I'm going to post this anyway.
Thursday was August 25th - my father-in-law's birthday. How thankful I am for him and the legacy he left. I see so many amazing traces of his legacy in my children. He was quite a man. He knew what he believed and he stood his ground no matter what the challenges. He was a loving, caring husband and father. In fact, as my mother-in-law grew more and more disoriented due to Alzheimer's, he faithfully and tenderly cared for her. Even though he had his own health issues, he pretty much laid down his life for his wife. (He's been gone now since 1999.)
He was fun-loving and that was something somewhat foreign to me when I married into the family. My introduction the first time my new husband and I stayed with my in-laws was to find a rubber snake in my suitcase. A day or two later, it was some plastic "barf." My husband and my children have tended toward the fun-loving side often to my dismay and occasionally to my utter terror!
My father-in-law was disciplined, a trait that showed up primarily in my middle son, although the others also have traces. My father-in-law used to brag about how he would take his last hot shower of the season on a specific date which never changed, by the way, no matter what the actual temperature. Then in the fall he had a specific date to start taking hot showers again. The lawn was mowed on schedule every 5 days whether it needed it or not. He kept impeccable records of everything, even the date and type of bread he made in his bread maker.
He also had the incredible ability to juggle several tasks at once. His job as an air traffic controller required it. Even at home he could listen to one game on the radio, have another on the TV and carry on a conversation at the same time. My daughter seems to have inherited this trait the strongest. How she manages to keep so many balls in the air at one time is a mystery to me! Her granddad's legacy?
My father-in-law, although he was a man of deep faith, was also somewhat of a worry wart. If he didn't hear from us within what he considered to be a reasonable amount of time, he would go so far as to write out a multiple choice, self-addressed, stamped postcard for us to return to him with an answer to mark; 1) someone is sick and dying 2) lost all my pens 3) we're ok, just haven't gotten around to writing! Having grown up in a family that cared for each other, but not quite so overwhelmingly, that sometimes annoyed me. Not anymore though. I came to understand that his family was more important to him than just about anything.
He was an excellent provider. He was frugal and careful and a hard worker. Thanks to his careful planning, his wife has never lacked and was able to volunteer for an organization she truly cared about. That was a great joy to her. Even now with Alzheimer's, she is completely cared for. This trait was passed on to my youngest son - frugal to a fault, not afraid of hard work (but that goes for my husband and all my children) and very careful in his expenditures.
My father-in-law was also generous. He gave liberally to his church and to many missionaries both financially and by giving his time. He visited the sick and those in nursing homes, wrote caring notes to many who needed encouragement, cared for his neighbors and their homes when needed and generally was helpful to anyone and everyone. We were frequently on the receiving end of his generosity. And all of my children are generous with what they have. They too, were receivers of his generosity.
So yes, I'm thankful for a loving, caring, wonderful father-in-law.
Thursday was August 25th - my father-in-law's birthday. How thankful I am for him and the legacy he left. I see so many amazing traces of his legacy in my children. He was quite a man. He knew what he believed and he stood his ground no matter what the challenges. He was a loving, caring husband and father. In fact, as my mother-in-law grew more and more disoriented due to Alzheimer's, he faithfully and tenderly cared for her. Even though he had his own health issues, he pretty much laid down his life for his wife. (He's been gone now since 1999.)
He was fun-loving and that was something somewhat foreign to me when I married into the family. My introduction the first time my new husband and I stayed with my in-laws was to find a rubber snake in my suitcase. A day or two later, it was some plastic "barf." My husband and my children have tended toward the fun-loving side often to my dismay and occasionally to my utter terror!
My father-in-law was disciplined, a trait that showed up primarily in my middle son, although the others also have traces. My father-in-law used to brag about how he would take his last hot shower of the season on a specific date which never changed, by the way, no matter what the actual temperature. Then in the fall he had a specific date to start taking hot showers again. The lawn was mowed on schedule every 5 days whether it needed it or not. He kept impeccable records of everything, even the date and type of bread he made in his bread maker.
He also had the incredible ability to juggle several tasks at once. His job as an air traffic controller required it. Even at home he could listen to one game on the radio, have another on the TV and carry on a conversation at the same time. My daughter seems to have inherited this trait the strongest. How she manages to keep so many balls in the air at one time is a mystery to me! Her granddad's legacy?
My father-in-law, although he was a man of deep faith, was also somewhat of a worry wart. If he didn't hear from us within what he considered to be a reasonable amount of time, he would go so far as to write out a multiple choice, self-addressed, stamped postcard for us to return to him with an answer to mark; 1) someone is sick and dying 2) lost all my pens 3) we're ok, just haven't gotten around to writing! Having grown up in a family that cared for each other, but not quite so overwhelmingly, that sometimes annoyed me. Not anymore though. I came to understand that his family was more important to him than just about anything.
He was an excellent provider. He was frugal and careful and a hard worker. Thanks to his careful planning, his wife has never lacked and was able to volunteer for an organization she truly cared about. That was a great joy to her. Even now with Alzheimer's, she is completely cared for. This trait was passed on to my youngest son - frugal to a fault, not afraid of hard work (but that goes for my husband and all my children) and very careful in his expenditures.
My father-in-law was also generous. He gave liberally to his church and to many missionaries both financially and by giving his time. He visited the sick and those in nursing homes, wrote caring notes to many who needed encouragement, cared for his neighbors and their homes when needed and generally was helpful to anyone and everyone. We were frequently on the receiving end of his generosity. And all of my children are generous with what they have. They too, were receivers of his generosity.
So yes, I'm thankful for a loving, caring, wonderful father-in-law.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Family Time
Unlike most American families, we almost always have dinner and sometimes even lunch together as a family. Lately we've taken to doing a Sunday morning brunch since our church meets on Wednesday evenings and not on Sundays. That has turned out to be one of the best family times. We're all relaxed and not in a hurry to go anywhere. Plus we're not exhausted from a day of work. It's just fun to sit around over brunch and talk about whatever happens to be on our minds. Usually that involves planning in some form or another. (Want to know what we've been planning?)
The menu often revolves around buttermilk waffles from a recipe in an old Amish cookbook we picked up somewhere. We add eggs or bacon or sausage to the menu, some juice and our special Brazilian coffee. Occasionally we opt for pancakes or french toast as the central part of the meal. A couple of weeks ago I was in a very energetic mood and since we still had fresh blueberries from a pick-your-own farm, I decided to make blueberry crepes. Mind you, I made that decision before looking at a recipe or I probably would have changed my mind. But I had already made the announcement and the whole family was expecting blueberry crepes. So here is the result along with glowing rave reviews and "You can do that again's."
Unfortunately, the blueberry season is over for this year. We have a few in the freezer for special occasions, but we're all already looking forward to next year's blueberry season! I'll probably indulge my family again by treating them to blueberry crepes!
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Ever Feel Overwhelmed?
Do you ever feel overwhelmed? I videoed this crazy chicken recently and just got to thinking this morning that often I'm a little bit like her and could probably pause and learn a lesson. Here she is trying to incubate 69 eggs! An average hen can handle about a dozen eggs, some can handle a few more or a few less.
So I got to thinking. Hmm... Maybe I'm a little too much like this hen with a few too many projects and passions on my "plate." In my zeal to accomplish much, too often little is really accomplished. I hate to admit it, but maybe I need to learn a lesson from this hen and concentrate on doing just a few things really well.
Now for the stickler! How do I choose? God's help and guidance is the obvious answer. Perhaps there is another lesson the hen can teach me. If I only had 3 weeks left in my life (about the time it takes to hatch out a batch of chicks) how would I spend my time. Aha! There is a key - although I doubt I could accomplish all I want to in just three short weeks.
I would definitely love my loved ones more passionately - and I would write furiously in an attempt to get everything down in print before my demise. And I would try for all I'm worth to bring more people into God's Kingdom. That's what my writing is all about anyway.
I'm sure there are more things I could learn from this crazy hen, but I think I'll mull that over for awhile! Don't you just wonder what must have gone through her mind?
What do you think? Is there a lesson here for you? Please share if you will.
So I got to thinking. Hmm... Maybe I'm a little too much like this hen with a few too many projects and passions on my "plate." In my zeal to accomplish much, too often little is really accomplished. I hate to admit it, but maybe I need to learn a lesson from this hen and concentrate on doing just a few things really well.
Now for the stickler! How do I choose? God's help and guidance is the obvious answer. Perhaps there is another lesson the hen can teach me. If I only had 3 weeks left in my life (about the time it takes to hatch out a batch of chicks) how would I spend my time. Aha! There is a key - although I doubt I could accomplish all I want to in just three short weeks.
I would definitely love my loved ones more passionately - and I would write furiously in an attempt to get everything down in print before my demise. And I would try for all I'm worth to bring more people into God's Kingdom. That's what my writing is all about anyway.
I'm sure there are more things I could learn from this crazy hen, but I think I'll mull that over for awhile! Don't you just wonder what must have gone through her mind?
What do you think? Is there a lesson here for you? Please share if you will.
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