Let’s focus on our young people’s good behaviour

Young people these days!

How often do we hear these words preceding an annoyed rant?

I was standing outside the post office, waiting while the Lady of the House posted some gifts. A boy – aged about 10 – came out with a handful of crumpled sweetie papers. He looked around then asked, “Is there a bin around here?”

I had a quick look and said, “I can’t see one anywhere.” So, he went off in a hurried search. I turned and realised there was a bin right behind me. So, I shouted him and he came trotting back.

His mum finished her business in the post office. He put his empty hand in hers and off they happily went.

All that to not simply drop his litter on the ground!

Young people these days, eh? We notice the bad ones plenty. Let’s pay as much attention to the good.

A combination of illness and inactivity brought about by the Covid restrictions had left Ann feeling useless and unwanted.

I told her about a woman, also called Ann, who was part of a group I once attended. She almost never did the homework or took part in the activities. She was always apologising for this, but people rarely listened. You see, she was the kindest and most encouraging soul there. She never contributed in a practical sense but when she was there, better work was done and people were simply happier.

When she worried about the subscription money, the group members rallied around and paid it for her, just because they loved having her there.

People who do things are wonderful, but we ought to give more credit to people like Ann – both the Anns – who make things better for everyone, simply by being there.

I was chatting to Vicki while she was sitting in the hospital car park.

Covid restrictions meant she had been sitting there for six hours waiting for news of her daughter. Six hours. In a small car. In the pouring rain. Having long since finished her puzzle book. Or, as she put it, “Just doing boring mother stuff”.

Her daughter was cleared to go home half an hour later, but it did start me wondering. How much of a mother’s work involves “boring” stuff, like waiting and worrying? How much is never seen? How much is never known or appreciated? But still gets done.

David’s mother’s funeral is this week. They had a big fall-out before she died and he hadn’t planned to attend the funeral.

I told him about Vickie and said, “Go for the things you don’t know your mother did for you.” And he did!

Jim is a “man’s man” which, as he explained to me, means there’s a lot he only understands a little and a lot more he doesn’t understand at all.

When a friend in another country heard his mum had died, she sent him two small heartshaped stones in a satin bag and presentation box. Jim opened them, grunted, and left them on the table. Stones? Really?

Before they headed for the funeral, his wife brushed fluff off his jacket and told him she had put the stones in his pocket.

Jim had other things to worry about. But, standing at the head of the grave with chord number one in his left hand, his right hand found a stone and he dropped it in beside the coffin. Now, one of the pair of hearts will be with his mum and one will stay with him.

“It helps,” he told me. “But how do women know these things?” It is a mystery, Jim.