George Wilder Our Poet

We were driving toward Georgia for Christmas. George Wilder got out his fiddle and started playing and singing Christmas carols in the back seat. He pulls passion from his toes and it sings a soft beautiful sound.

He writes his own songs and poetry and plays instruments as easily as I type on a keyboard.

On our way home from Christmas traveling, he started singing songs to fussy Hannah. He sang with such passion and sweetness. George harmonized with him and it filled our car with peace and beauty.

George Wilder puts power in nursery rhymes.

George Wilder decided to bake a cake one afternoon. "A carrot cake!" He spread the icing as if he were painting a masterpiece. It was delicious. He was so proud.

George Wilder makes baking carrot cake artwork.

He picks up a book and powers down and reads for hours. And then, jumps up packed with energy for long 6-10 mile bike rides.

He loves to care for Hannah and build with William and work on projects with Amelia.

He helps daddy with the tractor and the planting and the pigs.

He doesn’t like to empty the dishwasher or put away clean clothes, or do something twice.

George Wilder is passion and pride and love and simplicity and art and energy and elegance and stories and song.


We celebrated his birthday with sweet friends and bubbles and a gingerbread building contest. 
He didn't want a big party--he said--but he has so much love and life and light that it turned into the best birthday party ever!








Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Love Them. Feed Them. Talk To Them. The Rest Is Icing On The Cake.

Making A Mess

Mother's Day Garden Rescue