These past few days, a New Seekers’ lyric from an early Seventies song of the same name keeps running through my mind: “We’d like to teach the world to sing in perfect harmony.”
It didn’t happen back then, and I don’t see much of a chance of it working out any better now. How wrong were we to think the times they were a-changin’—but that’s a different tune.
I guess I could wonder what sort of songs the children of today will find occupying their thoughts when it’s their turn to reflect on the world they’re passing on. But considering the state of the planet we seem hell bent driven on leaving to them, I’d prefer not to face those lyrics.
Instead, I just want to watch my happy, healthy, joyful (puh, puh, puh) granddaughter celebrate her fourth birthday. She’s surrounded by love and happy thoughts, safe and secure. And when she sees me pull out my laptop to (try to) write this Saturday blog, she plops down next to me and says, “When you’re done with your work, Zayde, I’ll do mine.”
Her patience lasts about a sentence, before I find her wiggling her butt onto my lap, her fingers onto the keyboard. She bangs away happily, then stops.
“Are you done?” I say.
“No. Just thinking.”
If only more adults would pause for that purpose.
Next, it’s close to bedtime. She runs off calling out over her shoulder, “You can finish my work, I’ll be back.”
That’s me, personal secretary to the star.
She returns in princess PJs saying how happy she is I’m still there. Amazing how someone my size can fit in the palm of a hand so small.
Oh, I forgot about the presents. Some we brought for her from our trip to Hawaii (for Left Coast Crime), others for her birthday. She calls it a fashion show, praises every garment, every card, every bit of wrapping, and passes around hugs and kisses. She makes it a joy for us to be with her.
Doesn’t it make you wonder how we’ll be judged for not doing whatever we can to make it a joy to be a child?
Here’s a bit of what my granddaughter composed on my laptop. If it seems a bit hard to decipher, just view it as symbolic of how our behavior will be viewed by her generation, and then it may make perfect sense.
God bless the children.