THE MAGIC of "PLEASE"
The education part took place during the weekend - at home. The family structure always included a father and a mother, no exceptions. Divorce was frowned upon.
In many cases, kids' education just happened - without any parents' efforts. There was no negotiations, no rewards, no emulating what parents say. You learn as you go.
There is a language component in this chaos, too. The Bulgarian language allows you to say everything in so many different ways. The word may be missing, but you feel it. A sentence containing the same words can be said in so many different ways based on your intonation, emphasis on a specific word, tone of voice, body posture. "Please" and "Sorry" may remain mute.
Living in these tiny communist style apartments - with no places to play, no yards, made a commute to the small town [called a village], where the grandparents lived, mandatory. Everyone was able to play soccer outside. That was the major game of the '90s and still is the major outdoor game. The girls were mostly enjoying the stories of their grandparents, all ears and smiles from ear to ear.
This is how respect and connection with the grandparents was born. There was no need "to teach" it. It was "naturally born."
"Please" is such a magnificent word. It can take you to a new world - a world of people whose parents, or other relatives had the time to teach them, or the kid was smart enough to hear it from older siblings and learn on his own the advantages of using this word.
When you get older, "please" loses its attractive power. You can't tell your boss, "Please, do not fire me today! I just got a new granddaughter!" - it rarely works. You can't allure your boyfriend with "Please, let's get married!"
In fact, not being so civil at an older age is not such a disadvantage. Until you finish saying to your son, "Please, call the doctor", you would have wasted 2 precious, life - saving seconds. It is already assumed that by being elderly, you can not be following all the norms of society, so I will recommend, go with "call the doctor!" The doctor, or 911 do the magic. Forget this "please!"
I am quite positive in the early '90s there was not much attention given to "please" and "I am sorry". In Eastern Europe, it was also the time of early marriages. Most of our kids were either in daycare, or raised by our parents. Daycare was not so much a place to learn. It was a place to keep your baby safe, change his diapers, and feed him, while you were at work.
The education part took place during the weekend - at home. The family structure always included a father and a mother, no exceptions. Divorce was frowned upon.
In many cases, kids' education just happened - without any parents' efforts. There was no negotiations, no rewards, no emulating what parents say. You learn as you go.
There is a language component in this chaos, too. The Bulgarian language allows you to say everything in so many different ways. The word may be missing, but you feel it. A sentence containing the same words can be said in so many different ways based on your intonation, emphasis on a specific word, tone of voice, body posture. "Please" and "Sorry" may remain mute.
Living in these tiny communist style apartments - with no places to play, no yards, made a commute to the small town [called a village], where the grandparents lived, mandatory. Everyone was able to play soccer outside. That was the major game of the '90s and still is the major outdoor game. The girls were mostly enjoying the stories of their grandparents, all ears and smiles from ear to ear.
This is how respect and connection with the grandparents was born. There was no need "to teach" it. It was "naturally born."
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| Image courtesy of worradmu from FreeDigitalPhotos.net |
This was the way to see you grandparents grow weaker and pale with time; repeat an old story 110 times. This is how kids understood what getting old meant. Ultimately, kids learned to open the door of a restaurant, when they saw an old lady with a cane, waited for her to get in first, picked up the purse she dropped on the floor. ...
One thing we, the parents, forget is to tell our kids to ask as many questions as they want. Our answers may change over time. They will sort through them one day and laugh at our imagination and creativity. I know my daughter will. ...
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