When I was a little girl, I was fascinated with books. I remember, in particular, one small, pink book that my mom kept in a prominent place (at least, prominent from a 3-year-old's perspective) on the bookshelf. Perhaps it was the rosy color, perhaps it was the cozy drawing of a cheerful little home on the cover, perhaps it was the petite size of the book. . . whatever it was, that book sparked my imagination. I can remember wondering what was inside and looking forward to growing up and being a Mommy with a pink book just like that.
In September of 2005, at one of my wedding showers, I received a torn, scribbled-upon, faded pink book whose inscription read, "Dear Rebecca, My heart is filled with joy and love as the Lord has brought you into this glorious season of your life! You have been a blessing to me all your life. The little scribbles on this book were made by YOU as I enjoyed the nuggets of wisdom contained within its pages. May you have many happy years as a wife and mother. . . Love, your own Mother." What a wonderful gift!
As it turns out, the little pink book that caught my fancy as a little girl was entitled
From My Kitchen Window: Conversations with Christian Wives and Mothers about Home and Daily Living by Jesse Rice Sandberg. Published in 1963, the short little vignettes reflect a different era, an era not so long ago, but far, far away. Mrs. Sandberg speaks of sewing her own dresses and her children's clothes, of chatting with neighbors over back fences, of hanging clothes out to dry on the line, and of starching the kitchen curtains. But, despite the old-fashioned homemaking curiosities, Mrs. Sandberg's spiritual insights are just as relevant today as they were forty years ago. (One devotional that stood out to me was entitled, "Let's Indoctrinate Our Children!" I will post an excerpt in a
subsequent post. )
As you may have guessed, this blog was intentionally named in honor of that tattered old book. Although I am well aware that Mrs. Sandberg's wisdom and insights far surpass my own, I do hope that in forty years, a young wife or new mother will be encouraged and convicted by the posts on this blog, just as I have been by the contents of the little pink book. It is something aim for. It is something to pray for.
Caleb and I were so excited for our outing that we waited
Paul with Caleb, Josh and Yvette displaying the loot off the first variety of tree. 
I was allowed to climb the ladder, as long as I promised not to fall off!
Josh regretted volunteering to pick Black Tarts for me. 
Life is like a bowl of cherries!
When I was a little girl, I was fascinated with books. I remember, in particular, one small, pink book that my mom kept in a prominent place (at least, prominent from a 3-year-old's perspective) on the bookshelf. Perhaps it was the rosy color, perhaps it was the cozy drawing of a cheerful little home on the cover, perhaps it was the petite size of the book. . . whatever it was, that book sparked my imagination. I can remember wondering what was inside and looking forward to growing up and being a Mommy with a pink book just like that.
