Here’s Isaiah. Our 5 year old neighbor and leader of the pack of neighborhood toddlers.
He’s the king of exploring. The king of repurposing nature finds. And apparently, the king of stacking wooden animals.
These sweet Ostheimer figures have been a guilty pleasure for me the past two years when I first catapulted on to the wooden toy train. And with my natural affinity toward collecting, we were on an accelerated track. I wish I were kidding when I told you, I dreamt wooden animals and lost sleep debating which ones to collect once.
For a while, I displayed these beauties on the grown up shelves, the ones just out of reach of toddler hands, or rotated them out by theme, but eventually, they found their home on the windowsill.
It’s utter delight because they fit perfectly on the window’s ledge, can parade in a sweet little line, and can be seen from the street as they march in place day after day. Occasionally, as I’m doing dishes, I see new cars drive by and do a double take at the window. I’m partly concerned and partly proud that our wooden animal window ledge warrants a double take.
But since before the babes knew about elephants and zebras, I’ve been stacking these animals in varying towers and balancing acts. I attempt to set them up, invite the kids to play, and find new ways to showcase these beautiful pieces.
But my efforts have remained mine. The kids never focused on building their own animals stacks until Isaiah took on the challenge himself.
The king of the neighborhood kids strode up to the windowsill and carefully maneuvered the figures until a delicate animal tower took shape. He smiled, looked back at us for affirmation, and carefully decided where to put his last animal.
In the days that followed, Amos took to stacking animals like he never had before. He’d stack the zebra on the bear and say, “like Isaiah do!” And then he’d work to balance the rabbit on top of the zebra. He’d spend minutes at the windowsill, attempting to mimic and rise to Isaiah’s vision and efforts.
Like the schoolhouses of old, raising younger kids in the presence of older kids has its upsides--one to which big families and homeschooling families are no stranger. It's like when a freshman gets on the varsity team and excels as a ball player because the juniors and seniors are motivating and pushing him/her to improve.
Younger kids observe the abilities and imaginations of the older ones and in observing are inspired and challenged to grow.
For the firstborns in our families, there’s not an older kid in the home to observe or naturally take on the low-key mentor role. But in our case, Amos & Gal have Isaiah, their neighbor and friend, to look up to and learn from.
This is especially notable in seasons like this one when they’re not likely to be around older kids.
They’re not in school yet, and if they were, it’d be in a group of same-age peers. Sunday school is similar, plus, that luxury of old hasn’t been available in months thanks to #quarantine2020. Hanging out with family doesn’t necessarily mean there’s an older cousin to stalk and neither do play dates insure an older sibling to follow around.
Neighbors are there.
And as long as they’re willing and ready to play (after you’ve gotten to know them and trust their influence on your kids…another blog post for another day), let them.
Isaiah in our lives means there’s an upside to neighboring I’d missed prior to when he stacked these wooden animals. And thankfully, he's the kind of older kid I want my younger kids admiring.
Even though Amos & Gal are the babies on the block today, someday, they’ll be the ones stacking animals, shooting baskets, and speaking in full sentences calling the younger kids in our neighborhood to growth and innovation.
It’s a big picture outlook on this neighboring life, sure, but one I can happily get behind.
I’ve gotten to watch Isaiah grow up, but so have my kids. And he’s able to teach and love them too.