Not the school

The newest love of my life is a seventh-month-old baby boy I met a month ago.

His name is Jarrah Gold, the son of my step-nephew-and-niece-in-law Andrew and Jacqui Gold. But who cares about convoluted monikers? They are family to me.

It's hard to imagine that in a few short years, Jarrah may don a typical Australian school uniform with broad-brim hat and shiny black shoes and wave good-bye to his mum for the day.

Today, Jarrah is a trusting baby. He smiles hugely, touches our faces, mouths our cheeks with sloppy wet kisses, presses his forehead into ours or into the crook of our necks while chuckling, and generally likes our company.

The Golds visited me over the last two days. In this visit Jarrah smiled so much at me his eyes squinted tight. His mother said it's as if he's trying to smile more than he's able to with just his mouth.

Jarrah and I "read" a book. I loved his good morning grins, and looking at parrots on the verandah. He is an unusual child in that he makes intent eye contact, which makes one wonder what's going on his brain--and how he will respond to being in school.

Jacqui and Andrew are great parents. They read and sing to Jarrah and engage him in physical activity. They tag-team feeding, diaper changing, and walking and rocking times. They love and respect each other with humor and take extra care of their son.

Yesterday I went with the trio to meet a longtime friend of Jacqui's for lunch. The woman we met has a background similar to mine with the end of a rough marriage in her children's teen years. She home-schooled her children, as I did. Andrew asked her ideas versus public and/or Christian schooling. Her answer left me pondering.

"Parenting," she said, "is what makes the difference. Both parents. Not the school."

This woman who currently helps teenagers find a profession, explained that it takes two parents acting in their roles to the best of their ability for the good of the children that makes a difference. A mom can't fulfill a dad's role no matter how hard she tries, and vice-versa. Parents need to be on the same page in raising their children. Even then, children stray. The point, she said, is not the school they go to. It's the environment they live in at home with two united, loving parents that gives the advantage.

I look at Jarrah, this brand-newest generation. His parents want so much to do the right thing by him and each other.

Watching this little one grow up will be interesting. What will his interests be? What friends will he gravitate toward? Will he be respectful? Will he keep to the morals he'll be taught? Will Jarrah hold to the faith of his father and mother?

I hope so. I pray so.

In an aside, I also wonder if he will have a special grown-up smile for the American aunty who loved him, held him, sang to him, let him stick his fingers in her eyes, ears, nose and mouth, and didn't mind chucked-up apricots, broccoli, mango, turnips, oatmeal, breast-milk and pears on her shirt, table, chairs, floors and rugs. (We will laugh about all this later, Jarrah!)

Will Jarrah know that Aunty Heidi, like his parents, loved him through the tough times and good times and always--no matter what--believed the best for and of him?

I believe and hope he'll choose the good way because he's surrounded by a firm foundation of several generations of honorable people.