We all have memories from childhood: good ones, bad ones, memories of friends, of family, of moments we shared with people we care about. Some of my fondest childhood memories involve taking rides with my grandfather, my sister, and my cousin down the California coast.
We would drive around in my grandfather’s almost-vintage Ford Escort – riding through the neighborhoods of San Pedro, right outside Long Beach.
We encountered all sorts of interesting people as we drove; people from all walks of life. I remember being in constant awe at the different faces we passed.
During these trips we would often shout and wave as we leaned out the windows – hoping people would smile and wave back. It was our routine, and we started to expect to see certain people at different spots along our route. It was almost like we knew them; it was as if they were becoming part of our lives and we were becoming part of theirs.
And as we drove we would create the most absurd stories about these people – people we never actually talked to yet felt like we knew. Some of our stories were realistic; others quickly fled the boundaries of reality.
One guy was an astronaut. He had been attacked by a giant space squid while trying to catch a unicorn. He had to abandon his starship and parachute back to earth. Against all odds he ended up in San Pedro – right along our driving route. This, obviously, was one of our more realistic tales.
And as I look back on these shared moments from my childhood, I’m struck by what I remember – and by what I don’t. I remember very little of the actual content of our conversations. But I do remember the experience of our costal rides.
I remember the time spent with loved ones and the joy these moments brought me. I remember seeing my grandfather pull into our driveway each week to pick us up. I remember riding in the back seat with my sister and my cousin – our heads sticking out the windows a little too far as we yelled at our friends along the drive.
Kids are like that. They won’t necessarily remember the specific conversations we have with them. But they will remember the moments they shared with the people who took the time to care. That’s what they’ll remember as they look back – they’ll remember the shared moments we offered them and the simple consistency of our presence in their lives.
GEMS guest blogger, Bryan Creeger, is Director of Youth Ministries at Rosewood Church in Jenison, MI.