Two posts ago i began the story of the kickball game in the park. It never was finished. So i thought i'd catch you all up (unsure if anyone reads this, i'll continue to pretend, for my sake, that i'm not just writing into a vast nothingness.)
So there we were- the adults. Parents sitting there watching their young children play kickball with the town's teenage miscreants, and me. The parents appeared to have gathered by unspken accord, that they needed to supervise in case of trouble. At least that is why they gathered originally. In time it appeared as if they gathered more to enjoy the spectacle, and to indulge for an evening in the small town tradition of slow paced comraderie. i pretended to be there to observe the same, but really i was watching mom, who had gone into the tennis court to participate, with the same trepidations the others had for their small children.
These teenagers suprised me, surprised us all i dare say. For that night, at least, they were not the town miscreants. They were responsible, caring instructors and referees. When a child hurt himself, they gathered around him and kindly, and with some child wrangling skills, first ascertained that he was alright and then cajoled him into accepting it. They let mom kick, and the younger kids took turns running for her. They dealt with her with a respect and patience that not all adults show; they did not seem annoyed, they did not visibly roll their eyes, they cast no looks of pity my way. They were only gentle, and friendly, and familiar. They were wonderful. At one point a stray ball struck her eye, brusing her a bit as the plastic on her glasses dug into her face. They ran to her, making sure she was okay. The one who caused the ball to fly at her disappeared shortly thereafter; i feared he felt too guilty to stay.
Why do we not give our youth a chance????? They are better than we think, and need to be respected. i think this may be why they were so good to my mom, because in her heyday she embodied this truth. For years we have had the rough and tumble kids of local society run to her and hug her, stop to show her their children, or sit upon our porch to visit her. Though she may have butted heads with them in iss, she really cared abou tthem, and they seemed to realize this. i fancy that it is why our house has not been more often vandalized, though some others around us have suffered. God gave her a gift. May we all learn from it. Thank God it seems to be coming back to help her now, in her vulnerable time.
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