One of the attributes I adore about young children is their willingness to ask for help. They know that their pockets are empty of money, though they often carry pebbles and rubber bands, and it takes cash to buy an ice cream cone. So they ask Mom to treat them. It is clear to everyone involved that kids can't drive, so they beg Dad to take them to their friend's house, or the park. While I applaud the creative child who finds a way to reach the sink, needing a leg up is part of the human condition. I would even go so far as to suggest that parents are blessed by providing for their children. At least I was. 

 

Somewhere along the way the notion seeps in that such dependency is the equivalent of failure. We find excuses not to need each other, even if rugged individualism also means isolation or confusion. I wonder if this is the way it has always been, across cultures, or whether the chain links have more recently snapped. 

 

The other day a woman contacted me to say that she and her husband had reconnected with the older couple that mentored them a few years back. I almost cried. Without actually speaking with the older husband and wife I imagine that they were delighted to have the chance to spend time with them again, especially now that there is a baby in the mix. 

 

When I tease apart the wins and losses with a mentoring quartet, all I find are gains. People who have weathered a decade or three enjoy an hour with ones for whom partnership is still relatively fresh. Newbies get to be in the presence of a seasoned marriage. 

 

Plus when John and I have been with brandy new couples it reminds me that it's nice to hold hands.