Youth-that raw spring of showers, flowers and pimples
Do you realize, for just one moment, your little girl who grew up
yesterday
From frills and bows to minis and halters, is not feeling the same
feeling
She felt as a pigtailed teen? Will you pause for a second to look in
the mirror
And see your youth in your son's eyes? Our children, our own flesh
and blood has fallen,
from ignorance to new knowledge; From pen to paper and reading Enid
Blyton
To cartoons, Internet, games and violence. On TV, Xbox, whatever
else. From asking
Permission, to going their own way; thinking for themselves. Trying
hard not
To be told what to do and believing in themselves; Not guided. But
driven
By peers, mates, cults and prejudices. Whatever. Unable to fathom
where they are heading.
But confidently treading high seas, barefoot, with no miracle in
sight
Nobody else's but they, are our own little yesterday's babies!
Precariously balanced, rather than poised, between the easy to mould
clay-brain
Of childhood and the hard hearted idiosyncrasies of adulthood,
feeling an awkward feeling
As if perched between the devil, in its delirious state of extreme
lack of restraint
Uncontrolled excitement and emotion, and the deep blue-black sea of
mystery and wrecks.
Lost in despair. Groping at an identity in the invincible halo of raw
Spring
Grasping at something...anything at all, just to belong to. To fill
the void left open
By the generation gap, of more talk and no listening; more advice and
no example
They rush on, not believing in their ignorance of what lies beyond
the bend
They will utter, 'stay off. Don't preach; advice not needed'. In our
disbelief
Do we just stare at them like strangers? Strangers. Yes. We are. Just
look within. Just listen.
Listen to what they are saying. Rather listen to what they are not
saying.
Read every facial expression. Read between the lines. Attention to
detail is critical.
Look. Sense. Observe. Watch. Like a guardian angel would. Without
relaxing.
Not peeping over their shoulder. But at a distance close enough to a
gently hug.
Cling. Not like a tail behind their trail. They'll make sure you get
nowhere.
Kiss them. Love them. Show them that they are your world. Make it
connect.
Let them feel the power. Your strength in every touch. Your assurance
in every hug. Don't wait
Until they fall to pick them up. They were your babies, remember?
They still are.
Their survival is in you. They are bound to love the comfort of your
security. Provide it
They would begin to depend and adore the scent of your caring. They
cannot live
Without your affection. Your love is their oxygen. Its never too late
to change.. Start today.
Now is better. Change your attitude. Come down from your pedestal.
They are your soul.
Breaking the ice is tough, but then, so are you. Once the ice is
broken they will melt like you.
After all, they are your own breadth of spring. Handle them like
flowers. All youth are.
Genuineness. Honesty. Selflessness. Sacrifice. It all spell love; the
magical essence
That open floodgates of communication and break barriers. Don't
demand respect. It will come
You profess best practices in office. So, what about home? Be the
best person you can be.
Don't talk. Just be there. With your changed attitude. Make their
world a better place
For our youth, your attitude is everything.
Charmaine Fernando |
