Write Team: Do we really have to hurry?

One day recently when I picked up my granddaughter from kindergarten, for some reason she was in no hurry to leave the building. So, I simply seated myself in the hallway while she stood around, peering in some other classrooms, lingering, processing something in her young mind.

When she said, “I’m ready to go now,” we headed out the front door of the school. She spied the welcoming bench by the sidewalk and was drawn to its smooth surface for walking back and forth for a bit, then sitting and soaking up the autumn sun. I sat down too, joining her in the moment. I drew her attention to the whispering of the maple leaves in the breeze, and began softly singing a simple song about pretty green leaves, waving in the trees.

After a few minutes of this lovely interlude, she said, “I’m ready to go home now.” She marched purposefully to my car, let herself in the back door, and proceeded to work on buckling herself in, a task she hasn’t yet mastered, but I gave her time to try for herself before she said, “I need some help.” Then I gave her the top part of the seat belt to hold tightly to help me so it wouldn’t spring back while I reached down to fasten it. She insisted on closing the door for herself, so I waited while she did that.

I drove her home at a relaxed pace, playing the slow movement of a Mozart piano concerto. Her eyes fluttered closed and she got a beatific smile on her face as she enjoyed the music.

I had her 3-year-old sister here another afternoon while the rest of the family was off doing other things. First, we went upstairs and pretended to go swimming in my bedroom. “I’m the lifeguard. No splashing!” she admonished me.

After a while she wanted to go outside. We tossed a ball in the front yard. Then we played the game where I toss the ball for her to kick while she’s swinging. Then she offered to toss the ball while I swung. Finally, we both swung, facing opposite directions, which totally tickled her and we were both giggling as we passed each other back and forth.

Done swinging, she asked about the tiny larch tree in its protective enclosure in the yard, and we strolled around the orchard to see the other baby trees – the hazelnuts, the newly grafted apple seedling, the cherry trees, and the strapping oak saplings that are getting established.

I’ll admit, I’ve always tended to be a goal-oriented person, bent on efficiency, but I am learning more and more not to rush children (or myself) from one thing to the next. They get enough of that in school, where the need for a scheduled order dictates it.

We all need some relief from the constant flurry.

Slow down to see and appreciate what a child experiences. Your heart will thank you.

Winifred Hoffman, of Earlville is a farmer, breeder of dual-purpose cattle and a student of life. She can be reached at newsroom@mywebtimes.com .