Of poetry reading we have done much.

For lo these seven days, our dear child has been without the companionship of other small children, those who share his interests of running with a hoop, tossing horseshoes, or digging for virtual iron ore. We who are anxious for the future are hardly fit company for the sweet, lively sprite. He needs to be with his peers to climb trees, splash in puddles and measure wind speeds.

Leonard takes upon himself the task of training our boy in the martial arts of archery and sword-craft, playing at war with wooden weapons, but their banter belies the very serious threat to our life and limb if they cannot defend our homestead.

Other activities are not wanting, but they are also of a physical nature. Besides forcing him to play scales on the recorder for an hour each day, or gather kindling, practice knitting, mend fences, collect eggs and milk, how will I endeavor to keep up his education?

A week of home schooling has proven too much for my gentler nature, I fear; I am too lenient. He will be behind in his lessons, unable to do even the simplest sums or recitation. Again and again I ask myself, “What can I do to improve my child’s mind?” I am loath to whip him for misspelling his sight words. The vocabulary lessons of only last week have little to do with daily life in this desert place; we’d best give him new lists of words such as “rationing,” “hardship,” “flood,” and “recycle.”

Solitary and introspective, he fills his hours with chores and picture books. I fear he begins to develop a habit of talking to himself.

Of poetry reading we have done much. Adam can recite most of “Modern Major General” with clear diction. His knowledge of the holy books is fair; he can name all twelve of Jacob’s sons in birth order, and the many colors—from ruby and olive to faun— of Joseph’s coat. He studies the letters of our people, aleph to tav, on a small hornbook. We are provided with pencils; Adam spent minutes sharpening them well in advance of the storm, in case we should not have access to an electric sharpener.

As we begin the journey homeward, we find many lessons in the world around us. The tides, the moon, the winds; we have observed the storm’s aftermath and our child can see that the warming of this planet, the melting polar icecaps, and the rising waters are possible factors in this tempest. Why, one might doubt the hand of the Creator here, if that were not heretical thinking.

We observed sod and soil as we clambered upon a path over a fallen tree’s roots and downed power lines. Adam shared his understanding of geology, biology, erosion and urban planning. He employed arithmetic to calculate how many blankets and bottles of water his piggy bank money could provide to alleviate suffering, and how much amperage would need to be generated so the displaced children could once again play Minecraft.

His curiosity, his bravery and his character are all proven strong. I would be assured of his successful future if only I knew he would score in a high percentile on an exam of common booklarnin’. My worries cannot be assuaged; I must have him back at his lessons!