Because everyone loves a good story
A New Podcast and a Plate of Pasta
Attention, literature nerds! I recently discovered a new-to-me literary podcast, and it’s as bookish as they come. It has over 200 episodes already, so I’ll never have to sit around waiting for a new one to drop.
I’m currently listening to their series on one of my favorite novels, C.S. Lewis’s Til We Have Faces, and I’m burning through it. It’s been so fun to listen to sharp minds talk about a book I’ve loved for years but haven’t heard much discussion about. And because there are so many episodes, I can have this experience again and again! Woohoo!
A Prodigious List
Are you dying to know what the podcast called? All right, I’ll tell you: it’s called The Literary Life Podcast, with Angelina Stanford, Thomas Banks, and Cindy Rollins. I was so excited to see that their list of discussed authors includes many that I know and love—and plenty more that I neither know nor love but hope to in the future.
They’ve discussed writers from George MacDonald, Dorothy Sayers, G.K. Chesterton, J.R.R. Tolkien, and C.S. Lewis to Shakespeare, Euripides, Aristotle, and Plato. There’s also a handsome smattering of other works in between—George Orwell, Ray Bradbury, Oscar Wilde, Edgar Allen Poe, Jane Austen, and so many more! Doesn’t it just make your mouth water to read the authors on that list? Or are you normal?
The Great Conversation
Another fun part of the podcast is their premise that great works of literature are all connected in a conversation across the ages. Stanford always says, “The books are talking to each other.” This idea isn’t unique to her; it’s actually a major premise of the Classical Conversations approach to education and other thinkers as well. But the more books you read, the more you realize how great minds in the distant past have influenced great minds in the more recent past who are, in turn, still influencing great minds today. It’s a long, beautiful, ongoing conversation.
So as the hosts are discussing one work of literature, they’re weaving in threads from countless other works. “This theme reminds me of Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream.” “Remember when we discussed this same idea in The Wind in the Willows?” “This character is facing the same struggle as the Greek goddess Aphrodite.” Some of their allusions are familiar to me, and many call up memories that are rusty, dusty, or nonexistent. It’s exciting and intimidating all at the same time. But, to misquote Hwin from The Horse and His Boy, “I’d sooner be intimidated by you than bored by anyone else.”
From Contentment to Envy in 2.6 Seconds
And now, for the downside of the podcast.
You know that feeling when you go out to eat with someone, and you each order a different meal? You read carefully through the menu. Your eyes linger long over the filet with a baked potato, but in the end you opt for creamy pasta with smoked chicken. It sounds great, and you know you’ll love it. When the food comes, you’re thrilled. You take several bites of your pasta, and it’s delicious. It’s exactly what you wanted. In fact, it’s perfect.
Until you look up and notice that your friend ordered the filet.
She’s cutting into that beautiful hunk of meat, the steak yielding like soft butter, its red center drawing your appetite like a bull toward the matador. You clench your teeth and swallow a lump of chicken. You look down at your plate. The linguini stares back at you, lounging insipidly in its sauce. Pasta? Pasta is for losers. Why didn’t you get the stake like a sensible person? You wanted it. You could have had it. But you blew it, and now you’ll be eating these blasted noodles for the rest of the week.
The Grass Is Always Greener
…What was I talking about? Oh, yes, the podcast. Well, in some ways, it feels like that to me. A decade ago, I was given a menu with two main choices: continue as a single teacher of literature who can use all her free time in the summer to read, write, and study to her heart’s content, or else get married and pour her heart into raising a beautiful family. They’re both great options. I had an appetite for both, but I could order only one. So I chose the family. And let me tell you, the pasta is really good.
But sometimes I glance over at other people’s plates and see them cutting into that filet. Then, for a brief moment of insanity, I wonder if the pasta is really as good as I’d expected it to be after all. I wonder how my meal would be going if I’d ordered the steak. Would it taste better? Would it be more satisfying? Did I make the right choice?
Trading Plates
Now, to be honest, I never actually want to trade meals. I don’t want to get rid of the pasta; I just want to add the steak. I want to pour myself into loving and serving my family with young children, and I also want to use my brain like I used to. And I’ll freely admit that I have more of these moments of envy when I’m surrounded by a toy tornado, drowning in housework, listening to one child scream from a minor injury while standing in a cloud of stench, wiping the dirty bottom of the other child. At times like that, the steak sounds pretty good.
But you know what? If I’d chosen to stay single, I bet I’d be looking at happy couples with beautiful kids just like mine and wondering if I’d missed out. Because that’s how humans are—we’re so quick to default to envy and doubt and so slow to choose gratitude and peace. Trust me, I’m the world’s leading expert on this problem.
Later Doesn’t Mean Never
But despite all this—the good, bad, and ugly—I haven’t lost hope. I can still enjoy the podcast, even if the green monster raises its ugly head in my heart once in a while. I can still rejoice that God has given me a wonderful family to spend these years with, even if my mental capacity tapers off to a trickle for a while. I can be thankful for this delicious pasta, trusting that I’ll be able to order steak later on.
And even better than that is the fact that Jesus looks at a life of selfless obedience and calls it beautiful. This is the big idea that I want to unpack with you next time. I’ve been so encouraged as I meditate on this truth, and I hope you will be, too. For now, I’m off to enjoy my new podcast with a big ol’ bowl of noodles. Until then, no matter what’s on your plate, bon appetit!
Coming of Age: Death in The Yearling
The death of a beloved pet is never easy, especially for children. They may want to have a small funeral in the back yard. They’ll probably make a little cross out of sticks to mark the grave. They’ll cry and wonder why this happened. I remember all this from experience, and you probably do too.
But what if it was more than just a pet; what if it was the child’s only true friend? And what if the child didn’t merely discover that the pet had died but was forced to kill it himself in a horrific way? This child would come face-to-face with reality in a way that few others will experience for years to come, if ever. The coming-of-age process would be thrust upon him, and there would be no going back.
This is the story of Jody Baxter.
A Contrast of Experiences
Last time we looked at how death affects the children in Peter Pan. The story is carefully crafted to preserve Peter’s naiveté and innocence—after all, he’s the boy who never grows up. But the other children all choose to grow up, and part of that is their experiences of death. Even while characters like Hook and Mrs. Darling die in the story, things are still fairly lighthearted, albeit poignant and nostalgic.
But death in The Yearling is approached from a completely different angle. Both stories hold the premise that certain events can’t help but speed the coming-of-age process. However, while Peter Pan intentionally spares its characters from most of those realities, The Yearling takes Jody Baxter right to the heart of them. Let’s see how the various kinds of death in The Yearling cause Jody to grow from a boy into a yearling.
Jody’s Familiarity with Death
A polar opposite of Neverland, Baxter Island is a rural Florida farm that sees all kinds of death on a regular basis. Jody’s family raises animals to slaughter and eat. Pa hunts for food, guts it, and hangs the meat in plain sight. Animals kill each other out of hunger or pure meanness, and natural disasters wipe critters out by the hundreds.
Even the crops provide a reminder of death when a flood destroys nearly everything the Baxters had been growing. Jody Baxter is daily faced with death constantly. But as the story progresses, not even this familiarity with death can prepare him for some of the great losses he will experience.
Relational Deaths in The Yearling
Jody is closer and more affectionate with Grandma Hutto than he is with his own mother. While Grandma Hutto not actually his grandmother, she is a comfort and an inspiration to him. Her son, Oliver, is the closest thing Jody has to a brother. That’s why the intrusion of unfaithful Twink Weatherby, Oliver’s gal, is the beginning of the end for Jody’s close relationship with the Huttos. When the Huttos eventually leave town and Jody watches them sail away, he thinks about how their fading from view is like watching them die.
Before moving away, Oliver gets into a fight with the Forresters over Twink, and Jody and his Pa are forced to get involved to save Oliver’s life. This puts Pa at odds with the Forresters, who are his only neighbors. The Baxters had enjoyed a tense peace with the Forresters up until this point, but now they have to watch their backs. Even worse for Jody, his only friend, Fodderwing, is a Forrester, and now Jody can’t spend time with him like he used to.
But the most heartbreaking relational death is between Jody and Pa. When Pa resignedly gives the order to shoot Jody’s yearling, Jody’s unwavering trust in and love for his Pa are destroyed. Bitter and spiteful, Jody runs away from home. Pa’s betrayal had broken his heart. It was quite a while before Jody came around to considering Pa’s side of the issue, but even then their relationship never returned to the blind worship that it had been before the incident.
Physical Deaths in The Yearling
As we mentioned, Jody is pretty familiar with death because of the harsh realities of farm life. But the first death that actually breaks Jody’s heart is the death of his friend Fodderwing. Fodderwing is a kind boy and is Jody’s only real friend. He is born slow-witted, though, and his body must have been weaker than most. He succumbs to a sickness with almost no warning. Jody is blindsided — his only friend, ripped unexpectedly from his life. He never quite recovers from this brutal reality.
But the most devastating death is the death of Flag, his beloved pet deer. Flag wasn’t just a normal pet to Jody; it was his only remaining friend, a symbol of his growing responsibility and the trust his parents had in him as he took care of it. It was his companion, his baby, his best friend. So when Flag becomes an unmanageable threat to the Baxters’ winter food supply, Pa eventually makes the decision that Flag must be shot.
Jody flat out refuses to do the deed himself, so Ma takes the initiative while Jody isn’t looking. The horrific details are a crimson gash at the end of the story. Ma’s shot injures but fails to kill Flag. Jody is forced to finish the deed himself, taking the life of his beloved friend at the same pool where he had previously experienced such delight and innocence at the creation of his little water wheel. When he comes to his senses days later, he is no longer Jody the child; he is Jody the yearling.
The Monster, Death
Death is terrible. There’s no way around that fact. But it does play a role in the inevitable progress from childhood toward maturity. While Peter Pan seems to get a pass, allowing him to stay young and innocent forever, Jody Baxter comes face-to-face with the monster, death. It doesn’t kill Jody, but it devours his naiveté. Jody is never the same boy again.
While death is the worst way to experience coming of age, it’s not the only factor. We’ve already looked at the role that first love plays, and next time we’ll see how family plays a vital role in the journey from childhood to maturity. See you then!
Coming of Age: Death in Peter Pan
A broken bird. An old dog. A beloved grandparent. A child’s first experience with death may not affect them in the same way it would an adult, but it will certainly draw them from innocence toward reality.
In coming-of-age stories and in life, three factors play a major role: first love, death, and family. We looked at first love last time as Peter Pan remained oblivious to Wendy’s crush and as Jody Baxter felt both disgust and possessiveness toward Eulalie Boyles. First love can be complicated, but at least it’s usually lighthearted.
But today’s topic is a harsh reality—probably the harshest in the human experience. When children first encounter death, it leaves an indelible mark on their hearts. It makes them start to wonder about things they’d never thought of before. Why did they die? Where did they go? Who else is going to die? Peter Pan and The Yearling deal with death in different ways, so let’s see how the experiences drew the characters toward maturity. Today we’ll take time to look at Peter Pan, and we’ll delve into The Yearling next time.
Peter’s Discomfort with Death
You know Peter Pan as the boy who won’t grow up. He flat-out refuses to accept aging and change, and this includes a refusal to accept death—well, certain kinds of death. Many little boys are obsessed with war and fighting, and Peter is no exception. He fights pirates and Indians and anyone else who gets in his way. The book makes it clear that he kills his enemies all the time. Bloody slaughter in battle doesn’t seem to bother Peter in the least.
But the death of people he cares about is too hard to process. Instead, he has to deny and avoid. When Tootles shoots Wendy out of the sky, Peter sees her lying on the ground and thinks she’s dead. Like any child, he doesn’t know how to react.
“‘She is dead,’ he said uncomfortably. ‘Perhaps she is frightened at being dead.’ He thought of hopping off in a comic sort of way till he was out of sight of her, and then never going near the spot any more.”
Thankfully Wendy is not dead, so Peter is spared the decision of what to do. That kind of death is never supposed to enter Neverland.
Relational Deaths in Peter Pan
As hard as it is for children to process physical deaths, relational deaths take their toll on naiveté too. In Peter Pan, J.M. Barry says that all children are “gay and innocent and heartless.” This includes Peter and his firm belief that Hook will choose to be as noble and fair in a fight as Peter is.
Once when Hook and Peter are fighting, Hook falls down, giving Peter an advantage. Instead of seizing the chance to kill Hook, Peter reaches down to give him a hand up; Peter wants to win the fight fairly. His natural “good form” has always nettled Hook, and rather than taking Peter’s hand, the foul captain bites it instead. This shocking mistreatment and disregard for all things fair is a startling revelation to Peter.
“[As Peter reached down,] Hook bit him. Not the pain of this but its unfairness was what dazed Peter. It made him quite helpless. He could only stare, horrified. Every child is affected thus the first time he is treated unfairly…. After you have been unfair to him he will love you again, but he will never afterwards be quite the same boy. No one ever gets over the first unfairness; no one except Peter.”
But the greatest relational death in Peter Pan is when Wendy and the boys grow up. Even as an adult, Wendy doesn’t forget about Neverland, but Peter forgets about Wendy. Instead of bringing her back to visit Neverland each spring as he had promised, Peter fails to come for her until she’s grown and has a little girl of her own. Wendy is too mature to cry about it anymore, although she had been heartbroken when she was younger. Peter is upset that Wendy betrayed him by growing up, but soon he settles on bringing Wendy’s daughter to visit instead. So the cycle continues.
Physical Deaths in Peter Pan
Apart from the carnage of war, there are only a few deaths mentioned in Peter Pan. The one that causes the smallest stir is the eventual death of Mrs. Darling. Her mysterious beauty and selfless love had been such a focal point at the beginning of the book, but when her children are grown and Mrs. Darling passes away, she is immediately “dead and forgotten.” It’s just another proof of their continued heartlessness. Maybe this is because they’re already mature; the death doesn’t pose a loss of innocence.
The death of Captain James Hook, far from bringing Peter to grips with reality, actually cements his refusal to mature. Hook is a constant reminder of age, and Peter doesn’t want to face those facts. The whole construct of Neverland is an eternal, ageless, changeless realm. So when the ticking crocodile – time itself – finally devours old Hook, Peter rejoices. In his heart, Peter knows that aging brings maturity, and he won’t tolerate such a thing in Neverland. After Hook’s death, the ticking croc slips away, and Peter can put the passing of time out of his mind again.
Deliberately Softened
The way that Peter Pan deals with death is considerably softened from our reality. It’s a children’s book and therefore has compassion on its young readers. The absence the deep wounds that death brings is itself part of the theme. The same can’t be said of The Yearling, as we’ll see next week. Be sure to check it out!
‘Tis the Season for Sourdough and Shortbread
Well, it’s Christmas time once again, and I’m up to my eyeballs in holiday cheer. I’m at maximum capacity—buying presents, attending celebrations, planning trips, wrapping gifts, and taking on two totally new and time-consuming kitchen responsibilities.
…Wait, what? Yes, I’m afraid it’s true. In the midst of the holiday hectics, I’ve chosen to foray into the world of fermentation by creating homemade sourdough and kombucha. But I’ve also discovered a simple, scrumptious shortbread thumbprint cookie recipe you won’t want to miss, so please read on!
Learning by Doing
If you’ve already become a sourdough pro, I congratulate you and envy you. I am still a greenhorn, and it shows in the amount of time I’ve poured into watching tutorials, reading articles, and studying recipes. I’ve been quite thorough, I assure you, but I still have so many questions. For example, WHY did I choose to start this at Christmas time??
Thankfully, I have a friend who has made both kombucha and sourdough, and she was kind enough to invite me over, share her resources, and demonstrate her methods. No matter how many videos I watch on YouTube, nothing beats a real, guided, hands-on experience from someone who’s done it before. She even sent me home with the dough we prepared so I could bake it the next day!
My (Current) Favorite Resources
For sourdough, she pointed me in the direction of Baker Bettie, and that has been my favorite resource so far. Bettie is thorough, detailed, and talented. Plus, she provides extensive articles, recipes, and videos. It helps me to see visual snippets of what the dough should look like at certain stages—that way I know when to relax and when to begin panicking.
For kombucha, I found a website called You Brew Kombucha. The girl on there is also thorough in her videos and articles. She cross-links her articles to all kinds of other tips and information on her site, which helped me find answers to questions I didn’t know I should be asking (like why shouldn’t I refrigerate my SCOBY and why is vinegar a poor substitute for starter tea. Also, like, what IS starter tea?).
My (Current) Favorite Recipes
So despite my Christmas schedule and despite the fact that I already spend hours in the kitchen each week just making meals for my lovely family, I’ve now been spending a great many additional hours at the kitchen counter making bread dough and flavoring kombuchas. But I do believe it’s going to be worth it in the long run. They’re tasty, versatile, and beneficial, and I’m always up for some extra work that can boast such benefits.
So if I haven’t spooked you off with all my talk of time in the kitchen, please allow me to share with you the recipes that have worked well for me so far. I don’t think I’d suggest starting them before Christmas, but there’s always January! I’ve been loving Baker Bettie’s Basic Sourdough recipe. If you watch her accompanying video a few times and follow the instructions exactly, I think you’ll be really happy with the results. My bread has been tough on the outside, chewy on the inside, pleasantly-tart, and perfectly airy. I’ve also followed You Brew Kombucha’s instructions for fermenting the fizzy drink, and the results have been delicious. There are about a billion flavors to add to kombucha, so have fun experimenting with your favorites!
A (Simple!) Bonus Recipe
And if you are totally uninterested in spending hours upon hours fermenting your own food and drink, then I will cast absolutely no judgment upon you. In fact, I’ll offer you one last recipe that I found to be simple, fun, and irresistible: Baker Bettie’s thumbprint cookies. My 4-year-old son helped me make these a few days ago, and he really had a blast shaping the dough, squashing his thumb into it, and filling them with homemade cherry jam. And I have lost all self-restraint when it comes to these little gems. They just keep finding their way into my belly.
So whether you decide to start making sourdough, concocting kombucha, or baking cookies, I hope you’ll put these recipes to good use. I know I have, and despite being pretty busy, I regret nothing. Merry Christmas, my friends, and happy baking.
Ps: These are NOT affiliate links. I get nothing out of recommending these resources, so if you make them, feel free to send me some samples!
Happy Thanksgiving from Past Watchful Dragons
Today instead of leaving you with a lengthy article, I’ve decided to post pictures of some of my greatest blessings. I hope that God’s goodness fills your heart with thankfulness and peace today, whether you’re in a season of joy, grief, or somewhere in between.
“Taste and see that the LORD is good; blessed is the one who takes refuge in him.” Psalm 34:8
“I would have lost heart, unless I had believed that I would see the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living. Wait for the LORD; be strong and let your heart take courage; yes, wait for the LORD.” Psalm 27:13-14
Happy Thanksgiving, friends!
The Beautiful Mess of Homeschool
Friends, I’ve got to tell you something about myself: I don’t function well in the midst of messes. Ok, truth be told, I can hardly function at all when things are messy. Instead of focusing on one task and seeing it through to completion, I zip from one out-of-place item to another, trying to set it all right before remembering what I started out to do.
For example, I’ll start to make lunch for my hungry children, but then I’ll see several containers of expired leftovers in the fridge, cram the scraps into the garbage, take out the overflowing trash, then try to load the empty containers into the dishwasher only to realize it’s still full of clean dishes. So, naturally, I unload the dishes and load the dirty ones, except the sink area also has a bunch of clutter around it, so I have to organize all that. On my way put away the clutter, I find about 37 more piles of toys, clothes, dishes, pillows, and books, and I can’t walk past them. I get caught in a frantic loop of grabbing and sorting, darting from pile to pile until my kids melt down from hunger, at which point I remember telling them I’d make lunch an hour ago.
I’m sure there are a few names for this condition, but the most common one is “motherhood.”
Homeschool: How My Journey Began
All right, as long as I’m in confession mode, I may as well mention that I was never the motherly type to begin with. I was happy being single, but then I got married. I was happy without kids, but then I had two. I was looking forward to sending them to school, but then I decided to homeschool. What’s the moral of the story? I may think I know what will bring me true joy, but God knows better.
I got my degree in teaching secondary English and enjoyed teaching high school for 11 years, but I’ve never once been tempted to teach elementary. Conveying the basics is far more intimidating to me than expounding on Shakespeare or tackling physics formulas. But when my husband and I started weighing the benefits of sending them to a good Christian school versus teaching them at home, the choice became clear. Homeschooling was the only affordable option that didn’t include my working a full-time job to pay for their school. So long, dreams of quiet weekdays full of tidy productivity.
What to Choose, What to Choose
If you’ve looked into homeschool curricula at all, you know there are roughly a gazillion options to choose from. Which method? Which resources? Which co-op? Which books? Which lifestyle? Which sad beige children’s clothing for my Instagram feed? To say the choices are overwhelming is an understatement. So, naturally, I began to research shortly after my son was born. Remember, having things organized is my happy place—even when those things are choices that loom five years down the road.
I settled on a classical approach because it’s time-tested and thorough. Then I narrowed it down to Classical Conversations because they’ve got the curriculum all laid out with songs, cycles, and community co-ops. Lastly, I suckered a good friend into joining a local co-op with me, and I haven’t looked back since. I mean, it’s only been eight weeks, but still. No regrets.
My Ideal Approach
I spent the summer planning, researching, printing, organizing, and generally stressing about the start of the school year. The Classical Conversations program begins when kids are four—the age when they enjoy memorizing and learning but can’t sit still for more than 12 minutes. That’s not a joke; it’s a fact, Jack. A fact which I disregarded when designing my son’s three-hour homeschool schedule, broken down into 15- or 30-minute increments. A fact which he proved when my beautiful, laminated plan went to pot on day one.
I had envisioned a joyfully-structured day, my son shifting from subject to subject with focus and flexibility. I thought our dining room table would be a hub of education and delight, the sunshine pouring onto our books, worksheets, and manipulatives like the smile of God. I pictured my two year old happily playing with the all the educational toys and crafts I would set out for her while my son diligently memorized Latin vocabulary and all 161 history timeline events. In short, I expected order.
Instead, I’ve experienced chaos.
The Messy Reality
The thing is, our typical day looks nothing—and I mean nothing—like my ideal. We do start with Bible stories and breakfast, but I’m actually not eating because my toddler has shunned her three-course meal in favor of sitting on my lap and shoving both her fists into my oatmeal-and-yogurt bowl. She’s very tactile. I move on to discussing the character trait of the week. Invariably, my toddler knocks over her unspillable cup of honey tea. It spills.
I mop that up while she grabs everything else with her hands gloved in oatmeal. I wipe all that up too. (Hang on, my eye is twitching again.) I try to keep us on track by singing the hymn of the week over my shoulder while I wash her hands in the kitchen sink. By now, my son’s attention is waning because the cleaning took so long, and we haven’t even started the actual lessons yet.
Guys, this is not fiction. It’s, like, every. Single. Day. You fellow homeschoolers know exactly what I’m talking about. (And if you don’t, please shoot me a message and tell me what on earth I’m doing wrong.)
Worth the Stress and the Mess
And yet I wouldn’t trade these hours for weekdays alone—not for five glorious, silent, tidy weekdays with the house all to myself…
Sorry I got distracted for a minute there. I was about to say how thankful I am for the chance to be stressed at home with my beautiful children. And I really do mean that. Quite honestly, I love them way, way more than I’d ever thought possible. Even when she sticks her fists in my oatmeal. Even when he scribbles all over the worksheet instead of drawing a straight line from A to the apple. Even when I’m short circuiting about the sheer caliber of disaster in nearly every room on the house.
Yes, even then, because homeschooling—like life—isn’t about attaining perfection. Demanding perfection of yourself will give you ulcers, and expecting it of your kids will give you twice the ulcers, three times as fast. It will also make them really frustrated. Instead, life is about knowing God and making Him known (which happens to be the Classical Conversation motto). For now, I get to make Him known to my two feral offspring. And God daily uses their mess and my stress to show me just how desperately I need Him. So even when homeschooling is a mess, I pray that God will help me focus on what matters most. There are moments of grace in the midst of the mess, and I don’t want to miss them.
Coming of Age: First Love
In coming-of-age stories, as in real life, it’s usually not a single, standalone event that leads a child from innocence to maturity. Sure, there can be a line-in-the-sand moment once in a while, but most often it’s a culmination of factors that draws people from childhood into the first stages of young adulthood.
In this series about coming-of-age in The Yearling and Peter Pan, I want to look at three factors that combine to bring maturity: love, death, and family. These stories, while drastically different, are both fantastic examples of the magic of childhood and the bittersweet realities of growing up.
INITIAL INNOCENCE
Children can be downright naughty (sinful, really), but there’s also an essence of purity about them when they’re young. I can see it in my children’s eyes when they’re experiencing something that delights them like snow, a song, or even a dandelion. Part of the coming-of-age journey is the starting point of innocence.
Peter Pan
J.M. Barry describes all children as “gay and innocent and heartless.” Speaking as a mom of two kids under five, I can attest to that. Wendy Darling and Peter both have a desire for adventure in Neverland, and neither cares one bit about how the Darling parents will feel if their three children suddenly disappear for months on end.
Wendy is oblivious to the dangers of Neverland when she first arrives. Peter, while very aware of the dangers, has no fear of them. Instead, he has complete and utter confidence in his own abilities—a caliber of cockiness that you really only find in children. In short, they both begin the story as “gay and innocent and heartless” as can be.
The Yearling
Jody Baxter is 12 years old when his story begins. We see him escaping the hard chores of Florida farm life to go play down at his favorite watering hole. He builds a “flutter-mill” (water wheel) out of leaves and watches it gently churn in the stream’s current. He’s both entranced and delighted, and he twirls around and around for pure joy.
He has the same feeling of cozy peace when he gets home and feels safe, loved, and well-fed. Ma is gruff, but she feeds him plenty and loves him practically. That’s good enough for Jody. But Pa is his true hero. In his eyes, Pa can do no wrong. Jody trusts everything Pa says and does. Jody’s delight in his childhood is innocence itself.
FIRST LOVE
First love is a big step on the road to maturity. You remember your first crush, don’t you? I know I do. I set my sights on a cool kid at school and used to stare dreamily at his letterman jacket in the elementary lunchroom. (Seriously, why does a fourth-grader need a letterman jacket?) But I don’t think he even knew I existed. Welcome to reality, little nerd. Unrequited love is a nudge toward coming of age.
Peter Pan
Wendy is in awe of Peter, and her awe quickly turns into a crush. She offers to give him a kiss before they leave the Darling’s house for Neverland, and she’s mortified to find that he doesn’t know what a kiss is. She recovers her dignity after making such a pert offer, but she continues to love him throughout the story.
For Peter’s part, he’s far too naïve to fall in love. He’s not in the “cooties” stage, per se, but he may as well be for all the attention he pays to his admirers. Tinkerbell has the first and truest crush on him, but he is completely obtuse to her insinuations. Tink despises Wendy, seeing her as competition for Peter’s affection. Even Princess Tiger Lily falls in love with Peter, but he is none the wiser. He confides in Wendy that he knows girls want something from him but that he can’t figure out what it is. If he had asked Tinkerbell, she would have gladly told him, the little flirt.
Other People’s Love in The Yearling
At the beginning of the story, Jody’s mind is far from love. From all he’s seen, love brings trouble. He sees two male bears clawing each other bloody over a female bear, and he soon learns that humans aren’t much better. Jody and Pa are fond of their close family friends, Grandma Hutto and her son Oliver. Oliver returns from a stint as a sailor and goes to court Twink Weatherby, who is prettier than she is loyal. Jody is angry and resentful that Oliver would ruin their cozy family dynamic by getting involved with some girl.
Things get worse when Oliver fights Lem Forrester, his rival for Twink. Pa and Jody have to join the fight to keep Oliver from getting killed, and this puts them at odds with their neighbors, the Forresters. Eventually the Forresters burn down Grandma Hutto’s house out of spite, and both Huttos move away. All because of some stupid girl.
Jody’s Love in The Yearling
But the love trouble gets even more personal for Jody. Pa teases him for having a soft spot toward Eulalie Boyles, the shopkeeper’s daughter. Jody gets irritated and defensive, claiming that Grandma Hutto is his only sweetheart. This harmless exchange continues to nettle Jody, and when he later sees Eulalie at the general store, he hurls a potato at her. He gets in trouble for it, but he doesn’t care. He hates her as only a boy with a crush can hate.
Toward the end of the story, Jody sees Eulalie at the town Christmas party, and she’s dancing with another boy. He feels angry and jealous, although he can’t articulate why. He feels that she somehow belongs to him, even if it’s just to throw potatoes at.
A LONG ROAD
The path from crush to true love is a long one, and Wendy and Jody have only taken their first steps. But once the opposite sex becomes an item of interest, there’s no going back to the days when they were simply playmates and equals. The coming-of-age journey has begun.
Our next step down the winding road toward maturity will be the reality of death. It’s a terrible truth but one that’s unavoidable as well. See you next time when we see how Neverland and Baxter Island are both affected by death.
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