You don’t get to be 95 without gaining a bit of wisdom. One thing I’ve learned is how you carry yourself matters, particularly to the children you meet.
Whether through Sunday school teaching, camp counseling, or being a neighbor and a mom, I’ve known a lot of kids throughout my life, especially during the time my own sons were young. At a recent funeral, I saw many kids I knew as a camp counselor—though they sure aren’t kids anymore! They came up to me and told me who they were, because they’d grown up so I didn’t recognize them.
One gal introduced herself and I recalled combing and braiding her hair every morning at camp. She was also part of the bunch who played ball, and when I hit the ball she let me get to first base. I teased her about that, saying it’s not a good thing to do—you’re supposed to get people out no matter who they are!
Another fellow, the minister’s son, had wanted to be a windshield wiper when he grew up. He told me everybody still reminds him of that.
I remember I had a bird book with me at camp, and one day when I took the kids for a walk there was a whole beautiful flock of birds up in a tree, and I could tell them the name of each one. It was like God put them there, like how God puts special kids in our lives sometimes.
I’ve learned that I may not remember names, but I do remember people and the things we did together. And kids may not remember your name, either, but they sure will remember you.