admin
12-12-2006, 03:30 PM
TRULY LISTENING
I believe it was Phyllis Diller who said, "We spend the first twelve
months of our children's lives teaching them to walk and talk and the
next twelve telling them to sit down and shut up."
When I recall my grandmother, I often remember the day she did NOT
tell me to sit down or to shut up. Instead, she listened to me --
truly listened. And what a difference it made!
I was about eight years old and happened to be casually talking with
her. I mentioned that it seemed to me that I could not breathe as
well as before. It also seemed to me that many adults operated on an
assumption that goes something like this: if there is no blood or
smoke, then there's no problem. So I was surprised when she said,
quite seriously, "Here, let me see."
I was even more surprised when she bent down and stuck her finger in
my nose! That should not have caught me off guard, though, because my
grandmother was blind. She "saw" with her hands.
"It doesn't feel right," she said. And a week later the doctor
confirmed that I needed surgery and eventually my closed septum was
reopened.
Over the years, I've noticed that other people remember their
grandmothers fondly by recalling the aroma of home-baked cookies or
remembering sitting in her lap while she read stories. I remember the
day she stuck her finger in my nose. And I recall it with gratitude!
Bill Cosby has said so accurately, "If you listen carefully to what a
child is saying to you, you'll see that he has a point to make. So I
listen. And I answer them just as seriously as possible."
That sounds like a great way to treat children of all ages.
Author Unknown
I believe it was Phyllis Diller who said, "We spend the first twelve
months of our children's lives teaching them to walk and talk and the
next twelve telling them to sit down and shut up."
When I recall my grandmother, I often remember the day she did NOT
tell me to sit down or to shut up. Instead, she listened to me --
truly listened. And what a difference it made!
I was about eight years old and happened to be casually talking with
her. I mentioned that it seemed to me that I could not breathe as
well as before. It also seemed to me that many adults operated on an
assumption that goes something like this: if there is no blood or
smoke, then there's no problem. So I was surprised when she said,
quite seriously, "Here, let me see."
I was even more surprised when she bent down and stuck her finger in
my nose! That should not have caught me off guard, though, because my
grandmother was blind. She "saw" with her hands.
"It doesn't feel right," she said. And a week later the doctor
confirmed that I needed surgery and eventually my closed septum was
reopened.
Over the years, I've noticed that other people remember their
grandmothers fondly by recalling the aroma of home-baked cookies or
remembering sitting in her lap while she read stories. I remember the
day she stuck her finger in my nose. And I recall it with gratitude!
Bill Cosby has said so accurately, "If you listen carefully to what a
child is saying to you, you'll see that he has a point to make. So I
listen. And I answer them just as seriously as possible."
That sounds like a great way to treat children of all ages.
Author Unknown