Standing on the downtown subway platform, awaiting my second to last connection, I looked across the tracks at the pedestrian rush hour traffic heading uptown.
A party of three caught my eye-- a man pushing a little girl in a stroller accompanied by a little boy trailing behind them.
The man looked to be in his 40ties, wore glasses, a long sleeved dress shirt and slacks. The little girl, possibly 3 or so, appeared to be daydreaming. And the little boy, falling behind, the distance between him and the others growing every time he stopped to give his full attention to whatever caught his eye, looked to be around 4 or 5.
When the guardian came to the steps, he stopped, turned around and called out to the boy. Then, turning back around, he leaned down, picked up the stroller with its young passenger and steadily made his way up the 16 steps to the second level. Clearly, he was fit.
Now, by the time he reached the top, the young boy was still on step number 2, leaning his weight against the railing, looking back towards recently covered ground, mesmerized by something I didn't see.
When the guardian had first begun his trip up the stairs, I knew the boy would most likely fall behind. What I didn't expect was the gentle but firm manner in which the guardian called out to him once at the top, and the patience with which he waited for the boy to join him. Not once did I get the slightest sense of impatience from the man. In fact, not only had he fostered a sense of independence by not insisting that the boy go ahead of him in the first place, but in addition to that, I felt I was bearing witness to a man respecting a child's pace in a way one adult might respect that of a fellow adult. That really made me take notice since, much of the time, I often see guardians trying to hurry along the children in their care. Truth be told, unless I'm waiting for a train, I'm someone who rushes through the subway station to get from point A to point B!
When the boy finally joined his guardian at the top of the stairs, the latter once again took the lead. And when last I saw the boy, he was once again stopped in his tracks, mesmerized by something I still didn't see.