Especially for young children and those who homeschool, our most influentual physical environment is the home. I don't think this means a child needs to grow up in a home that looks ready for a Better Homes and Gardens photo shoot. Mine certainly wouldn't meet that test. It also doesn't mean the environment has to be perfect. One thing I love about Suzuki's philosophy is that he encourages us to strive for the best while simultaneously acknowledging that none of us are there. As long as we are continually working to provide a better environment for our children and keep that goal in mind, it is enough. In Nurtured by Love he wrote: "Without stopping, without haste, carefully taking a step at a time forward will surely get you there."
My careful steps begin with building an environment that has an abundance of things that will help my children learn and grow. Yesterday I felt that the choices I made for gifts mostly matched this test. A Christmas afternoon where I can watch one daughter piece together a jigsaw puzzle, another make handmade cards from a book I gave her, my toddler and preschooler cuddle on my lap as I read them a book full of Mary Cassatt's paintings of mothers and children, my son attempt magic tricks with new supplies, and my husband and another son play ping pong together in the garage while a new recording of Handel's Messiah plays on the stereo counts to me as one day where I succeeded in establishing a nurturing environment. Many other days fall far short of this ideal, though, like those when I am frantically trying to prepare for a Shakespeare class I'm teaching so I allow the boys to play Lego Star Wars on the Xbox just to get them out of the way.
Where does a quest to improve the atmosphere in our homes begin? I start and end with books. They are the focal point of my home, with a diverse set of books on nearly every subject for everyone in my family to learn about. On a good day I think the floors, shelves and tables in my home are a blank canvas on which we are daily composing a shifting collage of books. Other days as I look at the mountainous pile on the tables in my living room, I think my family is in danger of being buried under an avalanche of books. For some reason that I have never been able to figure out, the books that are out on the floor or a table entice my children much more than those that are shelved neatly by topic or author's last name. At the beginning of December, we brought the contents of a shelf of Christmas books downstairs and set them on the coffee table. All month the pile has been precariously balanced and the opposite of neat and tidy, but we have all read them, and I don't think we would have otherwise. Maybe for the sake of their education I need to pour a different shelf out onto the table every month.