I
t was one of those eye-opening moments that changed my perspective forever.
Before Pesach as we were preparing for our grandchildren’s arrival (and their parents’ too) we were short one car seat. We were offered a loaner from our niece who lives in our neighborhood and whose children had already graduated to boosters. I was directed to the basement where the children were playing and would show me my options. The big girl all of six years old dissuaded me from my first choice informing me that the buckle came apart too easily and was not so safe. Her little brother the mature four-year-old recommended the one with the built-in cupholder so my einekel would be able to help herself to a drink at will. I made my decision and brought home my choice.
After I shared this conversation at home a light went on. I was getting tried-and-true advice from these two children who truly were subject-matter experts possessing firsthand experience with the pros and cons of the world of car seats. How could I know anyway? (When I was their age you simply dumped the kids somewhere in the back sans seatbelt and all.)
Then it hit me. We adults are constantly making decisions on behalf of our younger charges: where and with whom they play; where they go to school; and how they occupy their time with extracurricular activities among other life choices we make for them all according to what we think is best for them. We do not usually have the luxury of or need for their input — after all we know best. Or do we? Although we cannot possibly think like four-year-olds (nor should we) we need to realize that they don’t think like us either. What we think they need or want is not necessarily what they truly need or want. The more we attempt to try to understand their actual needs and wants and factor them into our decisions the better chance we have to succeed in nurturing them.
