Healing Touches

Healing Touches

 

“Ow,ow,ow,ow,ow!” My three-year-old grandson comes running.  I scoop him up and wipe the tears from his cheeks. 

“I pinched my finger,” he cries. 

“Let Nonna kiss it better,” I say. A quick hug and a few kisses and he skips off to play.

How simple; a few loving touches and the world is rosy again. Remember those days with your little ones? Mommy or Daddy kiss it and make it all better.  Complete comfort and healing available 24/7. 

Elementary teachers continue this healing service.  A stubbed toe or a skinned knee is fixed with a quick hug or a few loving shoulder pats. Sometimes the nurse may get involved adding a few professional words and a kind smile. But as children grow, parents and teachers start preparing them for the “cold, cruel world,” where hugs and kisses may not solve all of their problems.  

Sure, there are still comforting words and shared smiles (sometimes shared tears,) but we begin to train children to become more independent. Now we may, after a few comforting words, add, “Why don’t you go wash your bruise and get a drink. I am sure you will be fine.” More and more we hand over the band-aid rather than apply it. We tell them to wait a few minutes to see if it feels better and let us know later. We ask them to take responsibility, to grow up a bit, to detach.  

In this country, independence is highly valued. We began with a declaration of just that, independence for our country and for all of its citizens. It’s a virtue to which we aspire. How many media stories of an individual pulling himself up by his own bootstraps, striking out on her own, building up a business, or an empire have you heard?   

What about all those great “up close and personal” profiles we see during sporting events.  We encourage our children, to become independent of us as they grow. How else will they learn to take care of themselves?  

Independence is a good thing. Can you imagine the line outside the nurse’s office if every bump and bruise required professional help?  Kids learn to “self-comfort,” to assess the hurt and take care of it themselves.  But must we lose all those consoling moments, those loving pats and shared smiles?  

One spring, our second grade classes went to a Veteran’s Medical Center to perform a few songs and poems. After an exciting bus ride, we walked into a ward full of patients, some in wheelchairs, some snoozing or wandering about. We had prepared the students to expect an audience of men and women who had been wounded physically, emotionally or mentally during service to our country.  

We also told them that we would greet the veterans, talk to them and perhaps shake a few hands. This can be scary for little people; meeting any adult is intimidating.

After the show, while we were enjoying our juice and cookies, one sweetie came up to me and said, “I thought you said we were going to greet the soldiers.”  

“Let’s go,” I said. We walked around, said hello and shook a few hands.  

“Let’s get some more kids,” my little friend said. He invited a few of his classmates to join him. When they acted shy, he said, “Come on, I’ll show you how it’s done.” Before long, kids and veterans were sharing handshakes, smiles and even a few friendly shoulder pats.  

When we walked out of that ward, new friends waved and smiled.  A few loving touches and the world brightened. Independence gave my little friend the courage to reach out, but those loving touches helped him connect. 

Let’s not give them up.