Connecting with others puts our problems in perspective

The man walking stolidly past the library door almost seemed too young to be a resident of the home. But the teacher and students who had come to read aloud that day outnumbered their assembled audience by about five to one; another warm body certainly would make a big difference.

"Excuse me," the teacher said, tentatively intercepting her potential participant, "but would you enjoy sitting with a group of these students and listening to them read?"

The man hesitated, seeming to weigh the rare opportunity to enjoy the company of children against whatever other agenda was burdening his morning.

"Well, OK," he finally responded, "as long as I can think about my own problems."

This was not exactly the response the teacher had hoped for, and not exactly an enthusiastic acceptance of her invitation, but at this point his presence would increase the number of listeners by 50 percent. She ushered him to a seat at a table already occupied by three of her students.

As everyone settled down, the low buzz of children's voices filled the room. Some read effortlessly; some struggled. But as each child at each table took their turns, a feeling of warmth and peacefulness permeated the group.

The teacher glanced at the table at which her reluctant recruit sat. Surprisingly, he seemed as engaged with his small cadre of pupils as did the other two residents. At times his face even softened into a smile at the words or expression of one child or the other.

As it always did, the time passed quickly. The children were now due back at school. They packed up their books and other paraphernalia to leave.

The residents walked or were wheeled out the door. The teacher thanked them for their presence and, as usual, they expressed in return their appreciation for the time spent together.

Last out, the man paused a moment. A bit wistfully, he finally asked, "when are they coming back?"

Whatever problems - big or small - had so laden his steps earlier that morning had somehow been forgotten, or momentarily misplaced, or at least put in a different perspective. For a brief moment he had lost himself - and found himself - in giving to and receiving from a group of children who asked nothing more from him than his presence.

Life is like that. So often the worries and concerns that seem so overwhelming can suddenly seem rather underwhelming when we immerse ourselves in the people around us. It is not that our lives are all that different; it's just that we are different. We have been reminded about what is really important, what is really worth our time and attention.

Friends, that may not be a big difference, but thankfully that is often all the difference it takes.

• Dr. Ken Potts is on the staff of Samaritan Counseling Center in Naperville and Downers Grove. He is the author of "Mix Don't Blend, A Guide to Dating, Engagement and Remarriage With Children."