The P.A.

A weekly address from Patrick Adams,
President of St. Louis Community Credit Union

My Grandson Is All That and a Bag of Chips

On June 20th, 2016, posted in: Uncategorized by 1 Comment

Boy ices skatingIn this world preoccupied with “who’s zooming who,” there remains room for sweet and innocent — lots of room. I (for one) need those tender moments to counterbalance a full schedule and the ever-changing dynamics of the daily grind. While “Mach VI with your hair on fire” is standard operating procedure on any given day, the sweetness of a tender moment touched by a quiet breath is a welcome reprieve to the otherwise raging windstorm. God just seems to know things like when to quiet the storm. I am thankful. The little boy who named me Poppy seems to have a sensitivity that far and away exceeds his age.  We’re all the better off for it. 

From the cold seats in a nearly empty ice rink, we cheered our 4-year-old grandson. It’s what grandparents do. Mom and Dad nervously chewed on their fingers. He was reticent and careful. Our little buddy moved ever so slowly across the slab of ice. After all, skating lessons are like that, especially the first. His innocence had given way to another first. He took his fair share of falls — lots of them, in fact.   Frustration, apprehension and a little loneliness was all over that beautiful little face.  From the stands, his parents, Mimi and I fell with him — every time.

I’m sure the 30-minute lesson felt like just short of a lifetime for my little buddy, and when he finally came off the ice, we celebrated him with applause, encouraged him with words and showered him with adulation for his effort. The celebration exceeded the performance, but that’s what parents and grandparents do. We were the windstorm — boisterous and over the top.

And then the quiet moment. Leave it to a 4-year old to lurch everything back to reality. With all sensitivity to his Mimi, who was still clamoring about how great he was, he leaned in, and very quietly, in his little tender, voice said, “Mimi, I cried just a little.”  She melted. Then she told me, and I melted. Nothing else was said.  He just wanted us to know that he knew that his time on the ice had some pain attached to it — both physically and emotionally.

This little boy’s humility and sensitivity are far beyond his years. I know, I’m a doting Poppy. I get it. Every grandparent out there thinks that their grandkids are the smartest, cutest and most talented of all. We’ll gladly tell you all about it while we get out our phone to show you hundreds of pictures supporting our claims. I am no different — my grandson is all that and a bag of chips.  He is quite adept at quieting all of the rage, even at 4 years old. I see great things in his future.

We are blessed.

One Response to “My Grandson Is All That and a Bag of Chips”

  • Donna Walker says:

    Sweetest thing I’ve read in a long time…I could insert my g’g’daughter, Miley Jo’s name in there and change ice skating lessons to pitching machine base ball game and have the same result!! God Bless and protect our lil ones!!

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