How Sweet It Is

[Satzaroo]

Ever since my wife and I returned from a long vacation, our six grandchildren have been exceptionally delightful. Emmi (who just turned four-years old) two weeks ago approached me with her new routine: She sways her hips and with a coy smile says, "I'll be the princess and you'll be the king, okay?" She then sits me down while she prances about and twirls in a properly royal dress-up costume. She instructs me not to move but does allow me to be amused. Occasionally, she will sing some ditties about the joys of being a princess. When Emmi is done performing, she gives me permission to applaud.

While Emmi displays theatrical talent, Macy (almost six-years old) has the soul of a humanitarian. Last week, she asked me to watch a video of young Americans who ministered to groups of poor African children. In the middle of the video, Macy started to tear up, straightened her body, and vowed to go to Africa so that she too could help the unfortunate children there live better lives. I was so proud of her genuine selflessness. Her new-found, heartfelt concern for other people so far away deeply touched me.

Speaking of tears of indignation! Yesterday, when I was downstairs in my study, I heard Mia (nearly four-years old) frantically crying during a movie about a runaway FBI dog and a young boy who has befriended it. I rushed up to see if she might be scared by some of the action. On the couch, my wife was consoling Mia as best she could. In between sobs, Mia explained that she was upset because she feared that the boy would have to give up the dog, and she couldn't stand to see that happen--it wasn't right. After it turned out that the boy was able to keep the dog, Mia stopped bawling and beamed--the world was a good place after all. And when she clapped her hands, I felt like cheering too.

Today, Autumn (nearly eight-years old) demonstrated a real tenderness toward me. My wife was making and serving breakfast for three of our grand-kids. She knows exactly what they want to eat, how to cook it, and how they want it prepared. So I don't interfere unless my wife gives me the green light. This morning, a bit overwhelmed, my wife told me to make it easier for the children to work with their pancakes. I began by cutting up a pancake, then adding some butter and syrup. Of course, that procedure was much more difficult and time consuming than spreading the butter and syrup before cutting the pancakes, as my wife emphatically reminded me. I wasn't offended at all. But later when my wife offered another suggestion, Autumn looked sadly at me, extended her arm to me, and said: "It's okay, Papa; everything will be fine." I appreciated her hug and kind words of support that showed how aware she was of our family dynamic at that moment.

What about my two grand-sons? They as well have made it a treat for me to be home from our recent travels. Elijah (almost six-years old) has always anticipated the stories I tell him about the adventures of three snakes: Schlomo, Schlemo, and Schlemina. And the scarier, the better. After not seeing me for seven months, the first chance he got, Elijah jumped on my lap and begged me for a Schlemo story. I will never forget the sparkle in his eyes and the firmness of his embrace. Papa was back, and the saga of the snake clan would continue.

This afternoon, Nick (almost eight-years old) used my downstairs computer to survey hundreds of dinosaur pics. In the past, he rarely wanted anyone to look at these photos with him. But today was different. While I was busy upstairs regaling Elijah with a Schlemo story, I think I heard Nick call out for me, but I wasn't certain, so I resumed my tale. A few minutes later, I definitely heard Nick asking for me, but because dinner was ready, I told him to go upstairs. After he ate, he disappeared once again to my study. Soon he again called for me. This time, I accommodated him. When I saw him at the computer, he was very animated. He actually wanted me to be with him as he sorted through the multitude of dinosaur pics. I was so happy to know that I was welcome, never mind sought out, to be a buddy in one of his special hobbies.

Grand-kids, you gotta love 'em.