Learning Humility at the Feet of Children

When I was a child I was humble; I had to be. Everywhere I looked there were people who were taller than I, or stronger, or richer, or better than I was in countless other ways. As I grew up though, the people around me began to wear down this store of humility. They said I was a handsome young man, a strong boy, an intelligent person, and superior in so many ways compared to the average person. I let this go to my head, and over time I began to believe what they said about me. I lost my humility, or rather, I traded it for pride with just a dash of arrogance I suppose.

It really couldn't be helped as it was happening. At first, I was too humble to argue the point. These people were my superiors in many ways, so who was I to say that they were wrong about me? As time went on I even found evidence to support their assertions. I really could draw better than others in my age group, and I really could do math problems quicker and more often correct than many people much older than I was, and I never had any lack of friends or girlfriends, and so many other things that people were attributing to me.

There came a time when I didn't want to argue against them anyway. Indeed, I did everything I could to demonstrate it, to defend it, to prove it to one and all. By the time I became an adult there were very few that I would acknowledge as being superior to me. When I did make the allowance it was usually in reference to something that held no real interest for me and was, therefore, worthy of my contempt anyway. So what if the quarterback could throw a ball? He was probably as dumb as a sack full of hammers. When a pretty girl wouldn't give me a date, well, it was her loss. If she wasn't so busy being a snob, she would see it for herself and ask me for a date, instead of the other way around. If I couldn't find the secret to some puzzle, then it had to be so obscure that no one would want to know the answer anyway. This was typical of my way of offsetting any deficiencies I might have.

It wasn't until I became a father that I began to feel that something wasn't quite right about the way I viewed things. I began to be concerned for the well-being of someone besides myself. That's not to say that I didn't love my wife, but she was an adult and could take care of herself in most instances. Now, I saw that there was this other little person in my life who needed. He needed things that I could give; knowledge, protection, guidance, laughter and so many other things that I can't possibly catalog them here. The point was that I had this small person in my home who was inferior to me in so many ways that he couldn't survive if I didn't share what I had with him. I wanted, really wanted, to make him superior to me and maybe save him from making some of my own mistakes. I truly wanted him to surpass me in all ways, and I tried to give him the tools he would need to do that. I continued to do that with my second son, and later still, with the step-children of another marriage.

In the fullness of time, they took an interest in Boy Scouting. The youngest was Cub Scout age and I got involved in the program at both levels. When the need arose for a Den Leader I took the bait and found myself in charge of a group of nine-year-old boys. Suddenly, I was surrounded by a small herd of these human creatures who all had needs, and I was expected to fill those needs. Somewhere it just dawned on me, the philosophy that I carry to this day. I believe that the world is made for children and that it's our job to make it the best place it can be for them. If a child is not happy and healthy, at least most of the time, then an adult has failed that child in some way. I set out to make "my boys" happy, and to do whatever was in my power to make them happy during the time that they were in my charge.

If I looked around and they were having a good time then all was right in the world, but if not, then I wondered what I could do for them. I took them on hikes and camping trips, I taught them games and helped them build their Pinewood Derby cars. If all else failed, I learned that I could set aside my pride for a while and play the fool. Nothing seems to please a child more than to see an adult make a fool of himself, so I learned to do that very well. I guess the most popular thing I did was a kind of Cheer, having to do with bananas. I slapped my hands together, high above my head and loudly called to them, "Bananas of the world, unite!" If any didn't get it the first time, I repeated the action and the words, while spinning on my heel and, usually I would see all of them imitate my gestures. I don't remember exactly how it went, but it was something like this: "Bananas of the world, unite!" (hands together above your head) "We, We, We are bananas!" (sway back and forth, keeping the hands together above your head) "Peel, Peel, Peal like bananas!" (separate hands and bring them down through a wide arc, in stages) "Go, Go, Go-go bananas!" (jump around and flail your arms about, as if you really are 'going bananas') You have to imagine what it must have looked like to a group of kids to see an adult behaving this way. They loved it; they ate it up. Some of the other adults would look at me as if I were deranged. Maybe they should consider asking me to leave before I really went berserk? But some of the others saw exactly what was going on and encouraged me. I found that I really didn't care what any of them thought of me, as long as my boys were having fun. It was alright for them to laugh at me, and it was alright if they surpassed me, and I didn't have to be the most superior person. I could even make a mistake now and then, and admit to it. My ego took a back seat and I have been a happier man ever since.

Now, I find that the same thing holds true for adult boys and girls. I no longer guide a group of Cub Scouts, but I do guide a group of about thirty or so men and women. When I tell the guy who waxes the floor that I am happy to have his expertise, I see him brighten up just a bit. When I tell my plumber that the health of a couple of thousands of people are in his hands, and that I know he's better at his job than I could be, I see appreciation for the compliment. When I let them see that I can laugh with them, even if the joke is on me, I see that I have made their day a little better than it would have been and they seem to not mind so much the burdens they have to carry. I'm glad that I had those nine-year-old boys to teach me some things about life.