The Little Boy and the Old Man

 SHEL SILVERSTEIN 

Parental Guidance: The Little Boy and the Old Man

As a teacher of 30 years, it was important to me to teach the students an appreciation for poetry. Of course, we studied all the patterns of rhythm and rhyme (which was over their heads, I'm sure) because exposure to all aspects of poetry was important to me...and that they understand that poetry is really words in motion, a different way of writing. 

Shel Silverstein (1930-1999) was a huge success with kids because his poems were simplistic and direct filled with whimsical or humorous imagery. Students adored his poetry, so much so that for several years I introduced myself on the first day by using an imaginary world of being "One Inch Tall", a poem by Shel Silverstein. They were introduced to their journal books by writing imaginary images of what life would be like for them if they were only one inch tall. From there, we took off on the ability to write freely in journals and writing about things that could be drawn upon later in some of their formal writing. 

The other day I came upon the poem, "The Little Boy and the Old Man."  As an older person now, I was stunned at Shel's ability to focus so sincerely on the emotional connection between two individuals. His poignant words struck a chord about how our society loses sight that older people have such wisdom...that we, too, have lived a full life steeped in all the emotions, that we understand FAR greater than young people can fathom. Young people do not have the age nor wisdom of living life. Mother always said, "I haven't lived 150 years for nothing." I get it now!!! It's a delicate dance older people do in order to give advice in a way that will not alienate them from the youth.

Here is Shel's poem with such poignant wording. 

The Little Boy And The Old Man

Said the little boy, "Sometimes I drop my spoon."

Said the 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 a wrinkled old hand.

"I know what you mean," said the little old man.