In most instances, parents teach children. But in a few important ones, children sometimes teach their parents. Of course, lessons fly off a child like scattered droplets of dew as he runs through the grass. A child teaches because of what he is, without guile or disguise. His fresh young self, glowing in the spring of life, is itself the lesson. He knows and lives things that his parents have forgotten and need to be reminded of.
A child lives in a world of wonder. For him, everything is new and nothing is stale. His enthusiasm over seeing a large bird or a construction crane can be as infectious as his laugh—if his parents open themselves up to it. For him, the world hasn’t yet lost its shine; nothing is dull or contemptible through familiarity and repetition. His vigorous young soul has the strength to endure repetition (“Let’s read it again, Mom!”) without growing bored. If his parents are receptive, he can teach them that good things are worth repeating.
