A SPLENDID LESSON...

... in humility at our Rosh Hashanah dinner last night--from my newest, brightest teacher, my 3-year old grandson Luka.

Here's the backstory: Sarah, our daughter, recently told Luka that his grandpa is a writer.  Luka was impressed, and asked if I had written any stories for children.  Well yes, I had, many years ago, a little unpublished story that was dedicated to Sarah, and must have been written when she was about Luka's age today.  She told him about it, even recalling a couple of lines that proved, to her at least, memorable: "What to do? Call the zoo!"

Well, Sarah told me about this on the telephone and I spent a little while looking through the boxes of old books and manuscripts we keep in our garage.  I found a couple of the slim red folders, re-read the story for the first time after many years, and found it quite enjoyable.  It seemed about right for Luka's level of comprehension, too, so I set them aside with the thought to read them at last night's dinner.

Luka was a delight at dinner time--a cheerful, independent little presence, gifted with the poise of a child much older than himself.  (Okay, so I'm his grandfather...!)  Before dinner, with every appearance of interest and delight, he listened to the Rosh Hashanah story his mom read aloud to us...

After dinner, I called him over and sat him on my knee to read the story, thinking he'd be as delighted with it as I was myself.  I'm a good reader--so I like to think--and even though the pages still lack the kind of illustrations children love to watch as we read them book, I imagined he would enjoy listening to my great, one and only children's story.

I started out, then, rather pleased with myself and with my little book...

... and was about three pages in when this little voice piped up: "Excuse me!  I have to play with my transformer now."  Ever so polite, but quite clear and firm.  He had more important things to do, slipped off my knee and headed back to where he had been playing with his toys.

Well, the whole table collapsed in laughter.  There it was, the Writer's ego, deflated in a moment of complete authenticity, with utterly guileless innocence and honesty.  It was the best moment, for me, in an otherwise delightful evening.  A good way to start the New Year, with a proper perspective on my own importance in the world!