Today I live in Vancouver, Washington. This is not by accident. Every summer for 15 years in a row, my family journeyed from Sitka, Alaska to Vancouver, Washington--taking the ferry to Prince Rupert, and then continuing on by station wagon for over 1,000 miles. My grandparents on my mom's side lived in Vancouver, and our yearly treks and visits there was the stuff of anticipation, tradition, and warm family memories. We stayed in the same hotel in Prince Rupert every year which was right across from a playground and which had a big Indian in front of it. We always ate at the Imperial Palace and I waited all year to order my favorite treat in the world, a Marshmallow Sundae. I was convinced that this Chinese restaurant was the only place in the world where such a wondrous thing could be found because I never did manage to find it anywhere else.

My grandparents' home was almost magical to me and summers there were bursting with things we didn't experience at home in Alaska. In those days, shipping to Alaska was tough and we grew up drinking milk that you add to add water to which was grainy and coarse. When milk is a luxury, there were just certain items that we only tasted once a year, like cantaloupe. To this day, I can't eat it without thinking of my grandma and how she would cut each slice into bite-sized chunks for me to eat off of the strip. My grandma's basement was a treasure hunt; it was filled with boxes of wonderful things, and we were indulged and free to open them to our heart's content. My brothers and I poured over old books---trying our hand at math problems from ancient textbooks, and my mom would read us poems from old poetry books. I came to love "Lil' Orphan Annie" and "The Raggedy Man" this way. My grandparent's yard was really our summer living room. My grandpa made us kids our own mini-table out of a spool and chairs out of smaller spools, all painted and topped with wallpaper. He made us a limbo pole which could be raised and lowered and we played limbo as a family for hours. We had races, we played in the sprinkler---even taking things to the compost heap was magical because it was novel.

Besides my grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins---we also had ongoing relationships with neighbor kids and neighbor adults. My brothers and I spent many nights playing cribbage and rummy with an elderly couple across the street named Stub & Helen. And once a summer, Helen would walk me over to visit with dear old Mr. Burns.

Going to visit Mr. Burns was one of the highlights of my year. Mr. Burns was ancient and wise and kind. He may have been the nicest adult I had ever known. Mr. Burns would always walk me to his backyard where he had a pond with a fountain and all kinds of goldfish. We would look at them and talk. Mr. Burns would show me magic tricks and Mr. Burns would ask me all about myself. He spoke slowly and thoughtfully, and he made me feel like the whole world had stopped. When I stepped into his world, everything became about me. For an hour once a year, it was like all the light in the room found me and hovered overhead warming me. I never felt so interesting, or so important or so good as when I was with Mr. Burns.

It's funny how things strike us as a child. The delights of summer were many--hours of ice skating, exploring bookstores at the mall on my own, ice cream trucks, swimming in my cousins' pool, and on and on. Yet one of the most significant and noteworthy is the hour I spent once a year with a senior citizen. I felt cherished and happy down to my toes in his presence.

We never know how our lives affect the lives of the children we spend time with. We could be their beacon of hope in a world filled with pain. Or we might be the person who feels MOST interested in them by virtue of only seeing them once in a great while, but by being fully present when we do.

I believe every emotionally-healthy adult should be intentional about loving specific children around them (in addition to their own). It takes so little to make an impact which can cause ripples of blessing for a lifetime. Whose child are you sowing into? When's the last time you bragged on a child to their parents or had a conversation with a child that lasted longer than 5 minutes where you did all the listening?

Mr. Burns made me feel seen. Oh that our children would have many like him in their lives.

Photo by Shirley Truitt

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