One summer night, a boy felt himself lifted from bed by his father. Dazed with sleep, he saw stars flashing across the heavens. "What is it?" the child whispered. "Shooting stars. They come every year in August. " Decades have passed, but I remember that night still, because I was the fortunate boy whose father believed a new experience was more important than an unbroken night's sleep.
Some parents like my father have the gift of opening doors for their children. This art of adding dimensions to a child brings the reward: the marvelous moment when the spark bursts into a flame that will burn brightly on its own one day. At a Golf Association tournament, a ten-year-old girl played creditably. "How long have you been interested in golf?" someone asked. "I got it for my ninth birthday," she said. "Your father gave you a set of clubs?" "No," she said, "he gave me golf. "
I have a friend, a psychiatrist, who says there are two types of people: those who think of life as a privilege and those who think of it as a problem. The first type is enthusiastic and energetic. The other type is suspicious and self-centered. And he adds, "Tell me about your childhood and I can tell you which type you are likely to be. "
The real purpose, then, of trying to open doors for children is to build eager and outgoing attitudes, which is the most valuable legacy we can pass on to the next generation. But why don't we work harder at it? Probably because sometimes we don't have the awareness or the selflessness or the energy. And yet, for those of us who care what becomes of our children, the challenge is always there but the opportunities also come repeatedly. Many years have passed since that night. And next year, when August comes with its shooting stars, my son will be seven.
