Victoria and I have been spending some time talking about the “Cradle of Civilization,” mapping and re-mapping the Tigris and Euphrates, the seat of the Sumerians, and today the Nile and the Red Sea.
Violet was pleased to shout out from across the room (where she was drawing a map of New Zealand!) that she had given the Red Sea school its name. Which, as I’ve explained before, is true.
There is something very Israelite-like about me: having been led to the promised land, I seemed to be determined to wander in the desert and whine nonetheless. I would have driven Moses crazy. And this is the story we began our homeschooling journey with: our persecuted family fleeing from slavery, striking out against all odds. That is a true story, and one I still hear, but it isn’t our story now.
I like our new connotation for the Red Sea much better — here is the birthplace of our children’s curiosity, the fertile setting that allows them to sit a while and develop skills and ideas and shelter not readily available in a nomadic existence, a port that brings in new influences and allows easy passage to new adventures.