I immediately assured Elise that homeschooling was, in fact, legal in France. Not so in Germany, but France, yes. Elise would not back down. She insisted over and over that it was illegal, that her teachers had told her so. I’ll try not to go on a rant about that kind of propaganda, but the source of her information infuriated me. It wasn’t until I sat her down at the computer and showed her Les Enfants d’Abord that she relented. I wanted her to see, in her own language, the truth of the matter. Homeschool Legal Defense Association is also a good source of information on the legality of homeschooling across the world, but for Elise, she needed French intelligence.

I asked Elise why she thought her teachers would have told her homeschooling was illegal. She could barely stand to admit that she was wrong about this. “I think because it’s not normal,” was her reply. Of course, she doesn’t actually know any homeschoolers. That’s propaganda for you, mes amis.

Let me take a moment to highlight a family successfully homeschooling in France, the Hoffmeisters. This family of five up and moved to France about four years ago! They set aside their homeschooling way of life initially, opting for the French schools to help the kids with the language immersion. After a few years of great difficulty for one of the children in particular, the Hoffmeisters resumed homeschooling in France. Despite what many consider to be heavy regulation on homeschooling in France, such as annual inspections and certain mandated educational outcomes, they are doing it!

By the way, the Hoffmeister Family has started a wonderful home business to help with the costs associated with homeschooling, such as the fact that one of the parents is most likely to be without an income. Since we have a family business as well, I just love supporting other families in this endeavor whenever I can.

Their business is called A Present From France. Since my children have been learning French for the past several years, I’m always on the lookout for creative ways of teaching. The variety of items included in this “care package” are sure to please all. I will most definitely be adding A Present From France to my repertoire!

Here’s what it is, as explained on the website:

Imagine, every two months receiving a ‘present’ from your new penfriend Juliette who lives in France. In your present you will receive lots of lovely gifts to help you learn French; toys, games, worksheets, CD’s with stories and songs, posters, bookmarks and lots more. It’s a fantastic way for your child to learn French and have fun at the same time. I’ll bet they can’t wait for the next box!!

And from the About Us section of their website:

‘A present from France’ is produced by The ‘Hoffmeisters’, a home educating family who live in a little village called Moncontour in Brittany, north west France. Being lucky enough to have a recording studio installed into their 17th century home, they have been able to write and produce their own music and story tapes, an integral part of the ‘presents’. With the help of French teachers, French speech specialists and friendly natives to advise, proof-read and perform on the audio CDs, ‘A present from France’ has come into existence. 


For Americans, you need to email for pricing. info@apresentfromfrance.com.

If you are a homeschooling family in France, I’d love to hear from you!! Bonne chance pour tout.

I wrote earlier about some perceptions this French teenager has of America. I don’t entirely understand her view of American religious life, but here’s what I observed.

We pulled into the parking lot of the church I chose for her to experience. “It’s so modern!” Her country’s churches, as you can probably guess, look more like the Notre Dame of her famous city. “It’s so big!” Yes, I did take her to one of the largest churches in this small town, but by no means is it what Americans would consider a megachurch.
Then we escorted the children to their respective Sunday School classes. She was surprised at the gaiety of the rooms, colorfully decorated and with plentiful activities. As we walked the halls, we passed a large rack filled with bread and other food items, part of the church’s Food Pantry Ministry for the poor or homeless. She was shocked to see food displayed inside a church. Some sort of violation of these sacred halls, maybe?

“Is there a concert today?” she asked, as we entered the sanctuary with worship in session. She saw a stage set up with a band and several singers, and the quality of the music was so outstanding, she thought it must be a performance. Kudos to the worship band at this church, it was amazing.

Elise nudged me again. “Where is the Christ on the Cross?” she wanted to know. I pointed to the large wooden cross on the wall. “But the Christ?” I’m so used to being in Protestant churches it took me a moment to understand what she was saying. I told her that Jesus rose from the grave after three days, so He was no longer on the cross.

Then came the laughter. The preacher was telling jokes, and the entire congregation was laughing out loud. This totally shocked her. I had to explain to her why it was funny, and in my opinion completely appropriate, for the pastor to joke about an old, unmarried lady at a conference, who, upon being asked her life verse, gave the scripture about “If any man would come after Me, let him.”

“This does not seem religious,” she stated firmly. I just can’t believe this is religious - over and over again this was the confusion in her head. Exactly!! It’s not religious, it’s faith, relationship, fellowship…

Why in the world would a young French girl who considers herself an atheist even care about any of these things? Every one of her comments or observations thus far had come from a critical place - not against church, really, but the fact that this church was different from what she knew in France. I concluded several things. First, it’s human nature to be critical of anything new, unknown, or different. It’s funny, because even with her incredibly limited church experience, she still knew enough from her culture and society to know that this American church was strange and unfamiliar.

I also concluded something about her unbelief in God. Having not given me an exact reason for why she doesn’t believe, I assumed a few motives. France has a very high rate of folks who report they are either atheist, agnostic, or simply don’t believe in God. Somewhere between 47% and 54%, depending on what study you examine. Compare that to an unbelief rate of just 3% to 9% in the U.S.A. Thanks in huge part to the French Revolution and the following rise to power of the Jacobins. There followed the Reign of Terror, in which more aggressive atheists sought to de-Christianize France. Religion was replaced with reason, and much of this influence remains today.

Elise is very in tune with French culture and society, and probably just accepts atheism as a normal way of thinking. She says her father is an atheist, but her mother believes in God. Her family does not practice any religion and does not encourage her to do so. “They wish me to choose what I want,” she explained. She doesn’t have any Christian friends, except her best friend’s mother. And this woman, from what Elise described to me, is involved in the occult. Moving glasses around the table, calling up spirits…this is the only person (other than her mother) Elise could tell me about that she knew and considered to be a Christian. I begged Elise to steer clear of that activity.

Some French paradoxes emerged as I continued discussions with Elise. She does not believe in God, but does believe in angels (”Just one person could not have created the world, but perhaps many angels”). She does not believe in biblical prophesy, but does believe that some guy on a French radio talk show can tell people’s future. She does not believe that it’s healthy for children to be taught that there is a God, but she wants children to believe in the tradition of Santa Claus.

So, this French atheist wants the crucifix displayed in church, maybe because that is her norm. She has been enculturated with being “normal,” which makes sense for a socialist, secular country.

Oh, but she was really, really impressed with the free buffet of snacks and drinks available to all after the church service. “I might go to church in France if it was like this,” she announced in between bites of delicious cake, and I half think that would be the case. And you know what? I’m certain the Holy Spirit was/is at work, drawing her to Himself. The following morning, my radio happened to be on, tuned into the local Christian station. “Everyday” (It’s You I’ll live for) from Hillsong Australia came on, which we had just sung in church. Elise recognized the song, and later told me she liked the song, and wondered where she might find it. Hmmm, interesting. As the pastor said at the end of the service, “It is no coincidence you are here today.” Perhaps concerts and free food will convert the French.

Bending the Twigs had an excellent post on the Boston Red Sox; (a Red Sox-themed nursery!)
Pebble Chaser posted a funny piece on the Denver Broncos; (and her crazy uncle)
Principled Discovery really likes Australian teams but played anyway; (bless her heart!)
Consent of the Governed is a Yankee fan; (regardless of numbers)
Under His Construction supports a variety of teams; (mostly the Washington State Cougars)
Our Seven Qtpies loves the Minnesota Vikings; (you’ll get kicked if you don’t)
Chasing the Wind comes in with notes on the Oakland As and Houston Astros (love those boys of summer).

TeamMASCOT will continue to partner with Diary of 1, and if one of you wonderful bloggers out there ever writes about your team and includes a link to TeamMASCOT, YOU WILL GET A PRIZE! Same deal, anything on TeamMASCOT.com up to $20 in value, with free shipping. Ongoing. Even a past sports post, with an update to include the TeamMASCOT link, will be just fine.

Other loose ends: I’ve missed so many great carnivals lately; July has been a whirlwind of activity with hosting my French exchange student, along with my 15 year old niece…and still trying to maintain sanity in the home. So, here’s a reading list for you:

The Expatriate’s Kitchen hosted the Carnival of Family Life a few weeks back. While you’re there, be sure to read about the Strange Baby Gear. I’m sorry if you own any of these items and actually paid money for them. If someone gifted you with the Baby Safe Feeder, The Baby Care Timer, or the Designer Potty Stool, maybe I can understand, it’s not your fault.

The So Called Me hosts the current edition of Carnival of Family Life.

Principled Discovery hosted the Teacher-in Service edition of the Carnival of Homeschooling. And Tami host this week’s State Flower edition.

Mere Orthodoxy hosts the current poetry-themed Christian Carnival. (poetry courtesy of the host; while Mere O claims “bad poetry,” it’s all good!)

I’m sure I have more loose ends to gather, but that’s all for the moment.

Serving Instructions:

This Dubuque Ham is fully cooked and ready to serve. To do so, remove the wrapper, place on table and serve.

I couldn’t bring myself to buy the ham with such a label.

I came up with a better serving instruction, not for ham, but humanity:

You are fully equipped and ready to serve. To do so, remove all thoughts centered on yourself, place yourself in a humble position and serve.

Here’s a quick bullet list of our family’s summer learning this past week:

1. Drake Park in Bend would be no fun for kids without ducks to feed.

2. Make a point to take a few pictures of yourself with your closest friends. Here I am, on the left, with my dear friend Julie last week, as our kids played at the above mentioned Drake Park. This is the only picture I have of us. I guess we’re always too busy having fun to stop for a silly picture.

3. Expect your children to find a creative lounging place nestled in the rock in front of the High Desert Museum. And yes, the yearly membership is well worth it.

4. If your van’s alternator goes broke for the second time in a week, and you find yourself barely rolling into a country store in the itty bitty town of Leaburg, Oregon, hope that a God-sent older gentleman from across the street happens by to recharge your battery. Then hope that God answers your prayer of Please let me make it to Springfield, just 15 miles ahead but on a dead alternator and a only a spark of battery, that’s quite a feat. Then pray that Zilkoskis Auto and Electric, which garage the lady at the country store recommended, is open. Then praise God for again answering when the good folks are indeed there and willing to squeeze in a desperate family in a van loaded with eight people on a hot day.

Be thankful that the children don’t notice that you are hoofing it a mile through a drug infested neighborhood with homes adorned by thick plastic over broken out windows, as you make your way to the only nearby park to wait for two hours. Know that God speaks through the mouths of babes as your four year old daughter makes up a song to praise God (which she sings the whole way back to Zilkoskis) for helping us get our van fixed. The French exchange student who is a self-described atheist hears every word and can best receive it from a four year old, not the host mother.

5. Do not be alarmed when your eight year old son wakes the morning after a trip to the coast and can barely get out of bed and walk. It is not a mysterious coastal disease, merely the result of jumping waves for two or three hours, combined with a hike up the hill to see the Heceta Head Lighthouse - along with a tour up the winding staircase which brings one 205 feet above the Pacific Ocean.

6. Know enough to be appreciative when the usually overcast, windy Oregon Coast presents you with an amazing day - a perfect 75 degrees, no wind, few clouds, great waves, children busily working on sandcastles.

7. Take the mother who lives with you to the coast. You know she loves it there. Endure the crowded van, the repeated questions, the frequent bathroom breaks, the snoring nearly 80 year old woman who must share your room on the overnight stay. Just do it.

Eight random bits about me:

1. All right, here are the rules.

5. At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged
and list their names. Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re
tagged, and to read your blog.

The Eight, but don’t judge me entirely on these tidbits…

1. I’m organizationally challenged, and really need some structure imposed on me to function efficiently.

2. I’ve lived in Arizona and never saw the Grand Canyon, I’ve lived in Michigan and never visited Mackinac Island, I’ve been at the base of the Eiffel Tower and never went to the top…carpe diem comes to mind, something I need to grasp.

3. I’m a left-handed woman married to a left-handed man, with four right-handed children. And my parents were both right-handed, with three of their four children being left-handed. Anyone confused yet?

4. My floors are clean. Even if the rest of my house is in a terrible disarray, my floors will be clean. It’s a compulsion. I usually request visitors to remove their shoes, and have even been known to ask people to wash their feet if they are barefoot upon removing their shoes. Okay, so it was some visiting family members who had stopped at a campground on the long trip to our home, and their feet were filthy. And the carpet was new. My next home will have very little carpet.

5. I am most defined by one thing: my love of God.

6. I would be quite happy living in the Montana wilderness with just my immediate family, and perhaps one or two other families. Anyone interested? :-)

7. I prefer books to movies, comedy to tragedy, classical to rock, old to new, mountains to valleys, dogs to cats, wine to beer, coffee to tea, cuddles to kisses, showers to baths, evenings to mornings, and hiking to shopping.

8. I’ve been to the theater, the bowling alley, and the press room of….yes, the White House. But I can’t divulge the circumstances. :-)

And you are tagged - if you’ve already done this or don’t want to waste your time on this, no hard feelings. :-)

Chasing the Wind
Dishpan Dribble
Bending the Twigs
Under His Construction
Small World
Chrysalis
Crossroads
Our 7 Qtpies

Waffles are not for breakfast and are especially not served with butter and syrup. Perhaps plain for lunch or with other various toppings at dinner. Bacon and eggs are also not for breakfast. Just bread and coffee, please. But the Ile Flottant dessert Elise prepared for us last night was made with 6 eggs and over a quart of milk.

Our roads are too big, our cars are too big, our stomachs are too big. We Americans are gluttonous, McDonald’s eating, environment killing, religious freaks. Yes, these are some of Elise’s many perceptions of this big country. I hope to put some to rest, but others will never be removed. Some for good reasons, others for deep-seated cultural differences.

This really is fun. As much as Elise has some serious French issues with America, she loves our T.V. shows, our music, our movies, our stars (as in Hollywood). We about choked when she said she listens to Snoop Dog. And so do all of her French friends. If that is her view of American music, God help us.

My husband let her borrow his iPod (filled with worship music), and upon returning it, she said, the music is nice, but it’s all religious. She has very strong barriers up to religion. As we passed a Catholic church in town, I said, “Est-tu Catholique?” “Non, rien.” She is nothing. Irreligious. Like most of France, other than the burgeoning Muslim population. I’m fervently praying for this very sweet girl, but rarely have I sensed such fierce opposition to God. Ah, there is a reason she is a guest in my home.

The Shriners are a sect which would not be allowed in France because they are dangerous. This observation came from Elise as we watched the 4th of July parade yesterday. Personal fireworks are very rare; most of the French enjoy Bastille Day (France’s Independence) with the city fireworks only. She was delighted with our little firework celebration at home.

Daily we discover ways in which we are not like the French. Sometimes it’s really funny (what, you don’t eat rabbit?), other times it’s troubling.