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Home
and Family
Hear Yourself Talk
by M. Steinberg
My mother had a friendly neighbor who used to come in to
visit us frequently when I was a little girl. She was always
talking about how she wished she could escape from the snow
and ice and get away to Miami. She never explained that there
was sun and there were beaches and hotels there. All I
understood was that it was someplace good, warm and peaceful,
and that it was "her ami." From my mother's response, I
gathered that she, too, had an "ami," for why else would she
say, "Yes, it would be nice to get away to `my ami'."
Children listen when we speak. The only problem is
that they hear the words and who knows what goes on in their
cute little heads in reaction to what we say.
One of my grandchildren, aged seven, was sent from the
succa to the kitchen to bring a few things that were
missing from the table. From the list, she understood that
she was supposed to look for `paprika oil'. She finally gave
up and came out to ask where we keep this special oil of
ours. As adults, we mistakenly laughed at her and got a look
mixed with perplexity and insult. I tried to repair the
damage to her ego by going into the kitchen and helping her
find the regular oil and the container of paprika. But the
damage was done. Next time, she may lose a little bit of her
innocent enthusiasm to search thoroughly until the item is
found.
Children listen when we speak. Never laugh at their
interpretations. These mistakes are ours, not theirs.
An American author, Frederick Reiken, called his first novel
"The Odd Sea." I have not read the book, but the title refers
to what a child hears when a grownup mentions "The Odyssey."
[Another author put together a little book on the various
interpretations children gave to their misunderstandings of
the national anthem and other old favorites. It was very
funny to us grownups, but try to imagine what went on in the
child's mind when he first tried to make sense of a word like
ramparts, spangled and other strange ones.]
We lived on the Atlantic coast as children and there were
frequent hurricanes that flooded the basement and made a
major mess every few years. The word `hurricane,' therefore,
had ominous overtones in my memories. One of the ladies that
we would meet when we were out walking would always stop to
admire my sister and me since we were close in age and
dressed like twins for Shabbos and Yom Tov; she oohed and
aahed over us. She was a refugee from Europe and spoke in a
very foreign sounding accent and spiced her sentences with
Yiddishisms. Her conversation with my mother had repeated
mentions of "kinahurra," which today I know to be a
slurring of kein (no) ayin hora. To us, it sounded
like her immigrant rendition of `hurricane.' We were sure she
was blessing us and protecting us from any evil hurricane. I
guess it did boil down to that...
Children listen when we speak. Hopefully, even if they
don't understand all the words, the emotions and the values
will come through loud and clear.
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