12 matters of Indian Etiquette!

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Teaching children GREAT values!

Ttue

ellahenri schools

In life we often think our children are young and don’t need to learn right manners from an early stage. Believe me children begin to form their character and habits from just 6months of age. It is imperative we teach by example the values they need. No one wants to hire a rude staff or have a partner with the weirdest of characters.

Children, at stages in their lives have tantrums; it is a way they get attention for what they want. What is the appropriate age for tantrums and how do we stop tantrums?                    

The fact is that after a busy day at work, we are usually tired don’t want any conflict, so we let stuff slide more and more by the day. If you let rude behavior go even once or twice, your children feel that  they can do whatever they want,  whenever they want. Most kids that…

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Two Dogs Dining

I wish my dog had good table manners

Unfiltered Coffee

Had to share this video on our food page. These dogs inspire good table manners!

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Manners

thanks

Rethinking Life

Manners

So many people seem to think that saying please and thank you is a think of the past. One of the kid made this little sign because we all think please and thank you, are words that should be part of everyone’s vocabulary.

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Sit at the Table….

great

flygirlmarla

But which table? When you eat, you choose a table. You want your kids to choose the table where you are sitting too right? Make your table inviting. Young kids like to be a part of the family or part of the group of kids sitting at the table. I have noticed that my kids run to the table to sit and eat AND have fellowship with the family.

Lately, I hear stories about parents who struggle with their kids coming to the table. I can’t help but wonder what the heck is going on? The table should be fun or enjoyable for everyone… regardless of the food that is there!

God put it on my heart that I am training my children for the KINGS table not the President’s table. I want my kids to run to the King of Kings. I do want my kids to have manners…

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Manners

For a Child of 1918

My grandfather said to me
as we sat on the wagon seat,
“Be sure to remember to always
speak to everyone you meet.”

We met a stranger on foot.
My grandfather’s whip tapped his hat.
“Good day, sir. Good day. A fine day.”
And I said it and bowed where I sat.

Then we overtook a boy we knew
with his big pet crow on his shoulder.
“Always offer everyone a ride;
don’t forget that when you get older,”

my grandfather said. So Willy
climbed up with us, but the crow
gave a “Caw!” and flew off. I was worried.
How would he know where to go?

But he flew a little way at a time
from fence post to fence post, ahead;
and when Willy whistled he answered.
“A fine bird,” my grandfather said,

“and he’s well brought up. See, he answers
nicely when he’s spoken to.
Man or beast, that’s good manners.
Be sure that you both always do.”

When automobiles went by,
the dust hid the people’s faces,
but we shouted “Good day! Good day!
Fine day!” at the top of our voices.

When we came to Hustler Hill,
he said that the mare was tired, 
so we all got down and walked,
as our good manners required. 

 

Elizabeth Bishop

Elizabeth Bishop (1911-1979) at the time of her death was respected as a “writer’s writer” on account of her technical mastery and exemplary patience and dedication to her craft. Since then her reputation has risen steadily until she has become one of the major figures of 20th century American poetry. 

She was born into a comfortable home in Worcester, Massachusetts, her father being a business executive with a successful family-owned construction firm. However, this security disappeared with the death of her father when Bishop was only 8 months old, and the subsequent mental illness of her mother who was permanently institutionalised in 1916. Though her mother lived in an asylum until 1934, Bishop never saw her again. She was brought up by a succession of relatives, firstly by her maternal grandparents in Nova Scotia, under whose care she was largely happy, then by her paternal grandparents back in Worcester and finally by her paternal aunt in whose home Bishop remained for the rest of her education. In 1929 she entered Vassar College where she began writing in earnest and where she met the older and already distinguished poet, Marianne Moore who became the first of several poetic friends and mentors.

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