Sunday was the celebration of the 4th birthday of our niece Lorelai – or should I say Princess Lorelai? She has been on something of a princess kick, as apparently are most little girls her age, so that was the theme of the day – and what a delight to be one of many loved ones and admirers in the room. And what was especially nice about it was that to whatever extent Lorelai is Princess-like, she is especially so in the good manners she exhibits in these settings. Is there a sweeter sound in the world than a four-year-old saying “thank you” without prompting from parents or other interested onlookers? That’s not to say that she managed the feat each and every time, or even most of the time- but to an amazing extent the words “thank you” sprang naturally from her- and with real sincerity and not the tired, rolled-eyes, under-duress sort of thank you that one hears too often at such occasions (When that happens, I’m always tempted to grab said child and plant their spoiled behind in the corner, slap a dunce cap on their head, and leave them banished there until some sincere appreciation is forthcoming. Maybe that’s why I’m not invited to all that many children’s birthday parties.) Nor were we treated to the sort of icky-sweet, heavily-posed thank you that belongs more on the runaway of one of those JonBenet Ramsey-type beauty pageants. I love the fact that Polly and Mark have taken the fostering of good manners and a genuinely appreciative spirit in Lorelai so seriously- taking great care that this little girl dwarfed by a mountain of presents three times her size is mindful of the generosity from which they came. Come to think of it, Kathy and I are really fortunate that just about all of the young people in our orbit to whom we give gifts know the words ‘Thank You’ and what they mean very well.
There were some wonderful moments, like when Lorelai opened up her gift from Grandpa Gall and pulled out two precious stuffed bears- and in this high-tech world of Wii and Xbox and Blue-Ray DVDs and everything else that makes the world seem like a set from Star Trek, I love the fact that Lorelai delighted in those bears as much as anything else she got.* I also like the fact that perhaps the biggest squeal of delight we heard all afternoon was when she opened up our card – not our gift – which was one of those audio cards that plays a song when you open it. I forget what song it was – some Disney tune sweet enough to cause diabetic sugar shock – but Lorelai could not have been more delighted if Ariel, Belle, Snow White and Cinderella themselves had walked in to sing it in person. *By the way, during a little break in the proceedings, I overheard Lorelai carrying on a “conversation” with one of her new stuffed bears, which was ‘asking’ her in a gruff voice “how come you’re getting all of the presents?” and Lorelai replied “because it’s my birthday. You’ll get presents some other time.”
Of course, I’m guilty of painting a portrait of perfection here- isn’t that what Uncles are supposed to do? – and in fact Lorelai is still a human being, complete with the self-centeredness that none of us can ever escape as well as a preoccupation with things that is also a part of all of us. But I’m glad that Lorelai has already begun to learn that it’s people who matter the most. And someday in the not too distant future she will be able to sit amidst a mountain of presents and know that the most wonderful treasures in the room are not those presents themselves but rather all of the people surrounding her who gave her those gifts because they love her. A lot of people only learn this rather late in life, and a few poor souls never do manage to learn this most basic lesson of life. But there is already a glimmer of understanding about this in my niece. You can see it in her eyes and hear it in her voice when she says those wonderful words Thank You. And that’s the most beautiful thing about this little princess, by far.