We recently spent a holiday with our twelve-year-old granddaughter which so fits this cartoon from The New Yorker that I laughed out loud when I saw it. Or should I say LOL. She took our new phones in hand, and sounding like an employee of an electronics store, slowly brought us along as she increased the size of the keyboards, changed a ring tone, brought my silent notifier back to life and got the person I call Susie talking again on the map app. Colors changed, things were better organized, and we were vastly improved. She had a wonderful time helping us out and we much appreciated her non-judgmental help.
I learned two things from this exercise. The first is obvious. This granddaughter will be fixing our electronic equipment for life whether she knows it or not. But the second one was more subtle yet more important. I saw the joy she felt being appreciated for the help she could give and for her ability to do so.
I was raised to be independent and because of the circumstances in my life was forced at an early age to take charge of my life. I learned to say to myself in any difficult situation, ‘What are you going to do about it?’ Now that I am older and perhaps only able to leap halfway up a tall building in a single bound, I have been forced to ask for help. This has not been easy for me, and I have resisted asking, sometimes to a ridiculous extent.
One of my challenges in growing older is now realizing that there is joy on both ends of the spectrum --- the receiving as well as the giving. After years of being the first line of defense, I am now someone who needs occasional help. Who am I to deny the joy of giving to people who stand by willing and happy to do so. When I doubt this, I only need to remember the joy on the face of a 12-year-old as she handed my newly improved phone back to me.