Old People

When I was a kid my dad used to take me to visit old people. Sometimes they would get cookies and be ever so glad to see us. I remember one old lady that would make coffee for dad and herself but she had some very little cups and would put some in one for me and I had my own coffee and the cookies were always so good. She was constantly so glad to see us, and would tell us so. “Oh you are such a wonderful boy” she would say.

Other older people would just sit there and complain that no one would care for them. One even said why doesn’t anyone ever visit me. I wondered why she didn’t recognize that we were. Complain and complain, they would have nothing good to say. It seemed that most of the people that we visited only had a pile of complaints to pour on us.

We would always feel like we should visit the complainers because they made us feel guilty about not visiting enough, but guess who we wanted to visit…

My dad said that I should decide what kind of old person that I wanted to be and start working at it right now. I am so glad that I did.