The Young and Old

The Little Boy and the Old Man

Said the little boy, "Sometimes I drop my spoon."
Said the little old man, "I do that too."
The little boy whispered, "I wet my pants."
"I do that too," laughed the little old man.
Said the little boy, "I often cry."
The old man nodded, "So do I."
"But worst of all," said the boy, "it seems
Grown-ups don't pay attention to me."
And he felt the warmth of the wrinkled old hand.
"I know what you mean, " said the little old man.

Shel Silverstein
The Light in the Attic

The other day during chapel service, I was reminded of this poem when we celebrated the 83rd birthday of our organ player. I felt like his 83 years were being mocked by being treated like a kid See, while this man stood in front of the congregation, the chaplain kept referring to him as the birthday “boy” in this voice saved for 3 year olds. As the homemade cards were brought up to him, she had him read the front messages, and since the man can barely see, she had to help him read. It sounded just like a mother coaxing her little son through his first Dick and Jane book.

The situation just made me uncomfortable; like I was watching his dignity float away. Yes he needs assistance to walk, he is almost deaf, and can barely see, but this is a man of 83 years of experience and wisdom to celebrate. It just made me wonder about how we treat our elders, and when do they go from being a wealth of advice and knowledge, to the equivalent of a child?