16 July 03

Dear Editor,

Over a generation ago, I met my new best friend through your newspaper. It was by reading the Letters to the Editor section that I found someone who thought like I did. I had memorized her name and eventually we met one another in town. We were instant friends and remain so, to this day.

That was before I was a grandmother -- yet just the other day I was thinking about Kris, and her courageous letter that you printed when my children were young. Her memory came to me as I was buying groceries and the family in front of me had left an infant almost about to cry in a car seat propped up in the shopping cart.

I looked to see where the parents were: Nowhere in sight. Yet I did locate the grandmother who moved closer to the cart when she noticed me eyeing the restless baby. She began to move the cart back and forth to pacify the baby. I watched the baby look at her grandmother but she didn’t return the gaze, nor heed the cries. Grandmother eventually left the baby in the car seat and went to the cashier to watch the transaction.

By now the baby was really crying and so I went to the baby, engaged her eyes, and asked where her mother was? A little girl came to the cart and said, “I am her sister”. Yet no one responded to the baby (save the kind cashier who had other business) and left the baby to move along in the cart as the groceries were piled around. It broke my heart.

I wish this were a rare event that families do not perceive the cries of their babies. Why do I disturb myself with this common scenario? Because when those children grow older, they may eventually stop trying to talk to their parents about their troubles -- for what’s the use? Silent, truculent teenagers can be seen all about town with their families during the summer and no wonder that they look so forlorn. By that time, communication has been compromised and children have lost their trust that there is anyone really listening when they need to be heard the most.

Kris had written over twenty years ago about shopping in Richfield, often seeing the signs of nurturing, parental care – babies had perfect, immaculate, matching booties and outfits -- and yet, their cries were not heard in the busy marketplace. She pleaded with parents to listen to their babies and children, as their cries when shopping brought out her compassion, as it does mine to this day. Kris succinctly wrote, “Mothers, pick up your babies when they cry!”

Both of us were mothers of good size families in the early 1980’s. We were doing our best to bring up honest and kind children, even noble citizens, and hoped to have grandchildren of whom we could be proud. We agreed that listening to our children and responding to their needs were the best ways to fulfill our goal.

My friend long ago moved up north. I do miss her. Yet our meeting, I fondly remember to this day. Each time I see a baby in town in a plastic container, be it shopping cart or car seat set apart from Mom, I see my old friend and her concerned, sweet face. It may take a village to raise a child, but it’s much harder for the village if Mom and Dad aren’t emotionally available.

We seem to be a dying breed in Utah, indeed all over the world– mothers who love to have our babies as close as possible, even in public – yet I hope this letter will call out more of what’s best about being parents. Only a generation ago when our babies cried, we stopped doing what we thought we must do, instead to honor our first calling – being mothers to our children. We carried our babies in our arms if we went to town and considered no other option. Nowadays it is rare to see mothers carrying infants where nature intended – by our hearts.

Jobs, callings, hobbies, even residences come and go -- but what lasts, is our relationship with our own children. Both Kris and I are grandmothers now so it is even more important that we encourage families to do the best they can in giving real care to their children. We have seen the results otherwise. Babies who aren’t respected can grow into children who stop communicating. Those children may become teens who might act out for “negative attention”. For in one sense, it is better to be wanted by the police than not at all.

Our grandchildren will (and do) thank us for this, as will society -- for no one can replace a mother’s (and father’s) authentic closeness with babies.

Jeannine Parvati Baker
Joseph, Utah