I came across this poem maybe in “The Marginalian” by Maria Popova, but I cannot tell for sure now. I liked it, because it told more about being a parent than numerous thick volumes combined. And when I read it aloud, I liked it even more in hearing than in print. This is why I’d like to read it to you, and share a couple of thoughts.
Three reflections came upon me on reading this poem.
First is the recollection of my own hurries as a parent. Little daughters trying to catch up with my pace, taking two or three quick, small steps for my one.
“Hurry up, darling, don’t stop at every puddle and every flower; lest we are at home in the evening.”
Bringing them to or from the kindergarten, running errands on the way, was always full of love, but - as I now see it - the hurry and stress had so often obscured the joy of play.
The second thought is: note, how kind is the daughter, already adult I suppose, pretending to nudge her mother. There is no impatience in her “hurry up now darling”, there is laughter, cheerful play rather than a stressful duty.
And the third thought is the gentle taking over the house keys. This is the core of the poem. This a difficult test of parental wisdom: when to pass the figurative “house keys” to children, when to abide by their decisions. When they become more capable, when there is more understanding in their “hurry up”. This is not loosing the authority, it is preserving our wisdom from getting calcified, keeping it alive to be still supportive.
The poem tells about a family life. I can extend its message to the level of a society. We should hand over the house keys, the leadership to the younger. Because their “hurry up” is one generation wiser than ours was.
If you have any thoughts on the above, please leave a comment. Your remarks may improve my future writing.
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Thanks for reading; until next time!
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