One Thousand Words, Or One Picture?

My love for my grandchildren is swelling my heart these days. I’m the living cliche of a grandmother who’s constantly pulling out pictures of her grandkids. They are ever foremost in my mind.

How I wish I could slow it all down! They’re growing so quickly, from babies to toddlers, from preschoolers to tweens, from elementary school to high school. Oh, so quickly!

And they’ll be coming of age in a world that seems to have tipped off its axis. 

That swollen feeling in my heart? Maybe it’s fear.  

I know I can’t protect them from the world or the experiences that are part of being human—the pain, the embarrassment, the anguish and disappointment. The danger. I know that those are as much a part of their lives as love and happiness, exhilaration and satisfaction. 

It’s not that I believe life should be a fairy tale, either. I believe that ‘happily ever after’ means living life determined to find happiness despite the sure knowledge that wickedness exists, and there are still dragons to be slain.   

Still, I wish there was a way I could leave them with something that would teach them all the things I hope they'll learn, and guarantee all the hopes I have for their lives. To slay all the dragons for them.

I’m sure everyone wishes they could do that for the people they love, in some way.

For me, a writer, I guess it’s natural that I want to write something that would be life-shaping, and life-sustaining. 

If only I could distill everything I’ve learned into a thousand words, knowing that the words I choose would teach them exactly what they’ll need to know to have happy, successful lives.  

I’d like to leave them words of wisdom about personal responsibility and respect for themselves as well as other people. I’d speak of the things we’ve learned from history and how vital it is that those lessons should not be forgotten. 

And more. So much more. 

How to take care of an infant and a great-grandparent. How caring for other living things brings joy and fulfillment. How to reach deep for kindness and forgiveness when anger and defensiveness are so much easier to lay hold of.

How taking a stand doesn’t have to mean making someone else fall, but that sometimes it does.

I suspect that if I kept speaking like that for a thousand words, they’d stop listening. 

Words. How valuable are they? Probably only as valuable as the thoughts they inspire. For thoughts shape actions and attitudes, and those are the things that shape a life. But what if the children don’t read them? Or read them only once and then forget them? 

Would they forget a picture as quickly? Would it be better if I left them a picture? Would they be more inspired by what they see than what they read? Something they could keep front and center in their mind’s eye to help guide them through all the things that they’ll encounter in this life? What kind of picture would that be? 

It’s so much easier to take a picture than it used to be. Just one click on an ever-present device and there it is. A digital image that can be shared and duplicated exponentially. Immediately. 

Is this the answer? 

What picture could accurately portray all I hope for them to learn? One of us together, so they remember how much they’re loved, the kind of people their family is, and the importance of relationships? A picture of a breathtaking scene from nature, so they remember the power of awe and the importance of caring for living things and our environment?

Is there an image that completely and accurately portrays the abstract ideas found in words like respect and freedom, kindness and forgiveness? 

I’ve not found any picture like that. Can one picture evoke everything a thousand words can? While a picture can inspire an emotional response, and be thought-provoking, I don’t believe a photograph can capture definitions of the concepts and principles we base our lives on. A photograph can capture only the things that are; and so many of the things I hope their world and their lives will be have not happened yet. They’ll need a picture that will help them move beyond what is into what may be. 

And that is not a photograph.

That is a vision. 

I suppose this is where faith comes in. 

Because they’ll have to learn their own lessons, just as their parents did. Just as I did. Wisdom is something a person acquires from experience, at their own pace, in their own way. It cannot be force-fed. 

As their grandmother, I have to find the balance in the words I say, and the things I do—the pictures I offer them—that allow them the freedom to find their own way. To create their own vision. Then I have to have faith and trust that they will eventually choose what is good, even though they might not do it as soon as I wish they would or the way I would.  

At the same time, it’s my responsibility to help guide them, to teach them about consequences, to instill a hope in possibility, and explain the definitions behind the principles we believe will empower them to live a good life. So that they’ll have the tools to create a vision based on hope and wholeness, compassion and courage. 

To make the world a better place… 

and for that, I’ll need words. 

What are you doing to inspire the vision of the children around you? What kind of picture are you showing them? Want to read more about how you can help them?

You don’t have to be a grandparent to make a difference in a kid’s life. Explore your community to find ways to mentor children. It can be anything from supporting a program like Boys and Girls Club to helping kids learn to ski or fish. Step up. Help create a new vision.