If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.
James Carmichael’s Proverbs in Scots printed in 1628 came to mind on a recent morning when I pondered subjects for another column for the Seniors’ Voice. I remember my mother reciting that poem to me as a child.
If turnips were watches, I’d wear one by my side.
If “ifs” and “ands” were pots and pans,
There’d be no work for tinkers’ hands.
Oh, if we could just have it all, without any effort. I guess Mom was trying to teach me to work diligently for what I wanted.
The images of the poem elicit so many memories for me, and yet I am just 64 years old. I always have considered myself a young child of older parents who were in turn the children of older parents. My father served in World War II. His father served in World War I. My grandparents were born before the turn of the last century, and both sets of parents delayed marriage because of the World Wars. They taught us nursery rhymes and read to us from the great classics. We listened to big band music on the hi fi, and rarely, if ever, heard Elvis in my house growing up.
We enjoyed picking cherries off the tree with the promise of Grandma’s handmade pies and could look forward to hearty dinners with real mashed potatoes and gravy. My favorite photograph of my father is of him as a small school-aged boy in knickers. I remember my grandfather talking about the tinker coming down the street selling pots and pans, and other trinkets. I marvel to think that Dad saw the development of the automobile and then grew to become the first member of his family to be graduated from college before becoming the first commercial nuclear engineer in the United States.
The changes that our parents saw were amazing. Even as our own lives have changed, I don’t think anything ever will compare to the changes that occurred in the lifetime of the greatest generation.
They were wise, too. Watching television recently, I told my husband we should watch some good, old, shows. I was surprised, almost shocked, to see the types of characters portrayed on Perry Mason and even Matlock. I remember my parents shielding me from most of the evils in life until I was old enough to understand. Even if they were not totally successful. I found enough trouble, although blessed not to stray too far. They did help form me into a person who sees the best in others first.
My father’s work ethic and drive to do more and be more is something I cannot escape. I think remembering old verses about tinkers help to keep me humble and encourage me to continue to work hard. My mother’s encouragement when encountering bullies, or challenging situations, continues to calm me even to this day.
As a grandparent my hope is that I can instill some of the same values in my children and grandchildren. I would love to have them enjoy the same quirky poems and rhymes, too. Unfortunately, it seems the world is spinning faster than ever and the simple lessons of rhymes like these are lost to the young.
Are there any teachers who use the poetry of old to teach values? It would seem from the news stories that are so flagrantly posted that those days are gone forever. But I hope it is not true.
Are there any grandparents who sing silly songs or recite silly verse, or who teach children fables any more? I hope I am not the only one.
What is your favorite verse? I love to read scripture, including Proverbs and the Psalms, but I do enjoy reciting Edgar Allen Poe’s The Raven, too. Does anyone remember the original poem about Little Orphan Annie by James Whitcomb Riley in 1885? Now that was a scary one! A perfect poem for a cold October night’s reading.
Barb Nadeau is the community relations manager for the Voluntary Action Center of Northern Illinois, which represents five counties. Barb has worked many years as a professional television and radio host, as well as a print and social media journalist, and as a volunteer coordination professional, networking amongst non-profit social service agencies throughout Illinois. She is a freelance writer and an elected alderman in the city government of Plano. Contact Barb at bvnadeau@gmail.com.