July 9, 2010
Taking the Time to Make a Difference
A funny thing on the way to the playground
BY PAUL R. LEINGANG
(Listen to Paul read this column | Weekly podcast)
It was an unusal experience: a child I had never met, running across a field to say hello to me.
Here’s how I think it happened. It’s a long story.
Some years ago I began calling my granddaughter my GRAND-daughter, emphasis on the “grand” of course.
My granddaughter, Mattia, and her brother, Felix, live with their parents in New Jersey — a long way away from southern Indiana. Our families don’t get to see each other very often, so it is aways an occasion when we do.
You can guess what happened. I greeted my GRAND-daughter; she responded with a hello to her GRAND-pa.
Then along came Felix, the little brother.
On every occasion in his life, when our families visit, Felix has heard his big sister greet me enthusiastically with a joyful GRAND-pa!
So that is what he does too.
The shouts are followed by outstretched arms for a welcoming hug.
For several days now, my son and daughter-in-law and my GRAND-daughter and my GRAND-son are visiting with us.
On a recent evening, we grandparents took the grandkids to a nearby playground area while their parents went out for dinner on their own.
Mattia, at age seven, has a scooter; Felix, at three, a tricycle. Their parents have taught them well, including the need to follow safety rules.
About a block away from home, halfway to the playground, Felix realized what his grandfather had neglected: He was not wearing his helmet.
The lure of the playground was too much, though, so Felix did the responsible thing. Instead of disregarding the helmet-while-driving rule, he jumped off his tricycle and ran the rest of the way to his destination.
I carried the tricyle to the playground, parked it in an out-of-the-way spot, and went back to the house to get the helmet so Felix would have it on his way home.
Grandma watched over the two kids while I was away.
I got distracted at home, talked with the next-door-neighbor for a few minutes, then retrieved the helmet and walked back to the playground after a longer absence than everyone expected.
As I approached the swing set and the slides, I was greeted with a loud GRAND-pa from my GRAND-daughter, and another loud GRAND-pa from my GRAND-son — and then yet another GRAND-pa from a total stranger, another three-year old at the playground, who came running across the field with outstretched arms.
It was a touching display of the power of witness, and also of the vulnerability of children. The affectionate shout of greeting had been passed from big sister to little brother and then on to a total stranger.
I can see now why Jesus wanted the little children to come to him, and why he held them up as an example of faith and trust in God (and in the people they meet).
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I am sure every good teacher knows the impact she or he has on a child. I hope every parent and grandparent and custodial adult would know how important they are to a trusting child.
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I know from listening to the people around me — other parishioners at the church I attend, people active in the community, teachers and parents — that daycare is a growing need for struggling parents.
I know that St. Vincent Daycare Center in Evansville, operated by the Daughters of Charity, is a wonderful and secure facility. I know that there must be other good places too.
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A group of Christian Family Movement members – or any group of concerned parents — could make a difference in any community — observing the need for daycare, judging how well a center is operating according to legal requirements and past experience, and then acting to make sure another family can find a safe and secure place where a child can run to an adult with outstretched arms.
I think Jesus would like that.
Comments are welcome at office@cfm.org or the Christian Family Movement, P.O. Box 925, Evansvsille, IN 47706-0925