The simple joy of children

I was travelling in Vienna with my sister and a friend. We were going around the city on board a tram, with no particular agenda, other than to view different parts of the city. It was a great way to sightsee. We were able to feel the ambiance associated with each section of the city we visited. As the scenes changed, so did the pace of life, as seen in people walking along the streets and vendors selling their produce and products in shops. We also noticed how differently people carried themselves as they went about their business.

It must have been close to 3 p.m. or so when the schools finished for the day and a bunch of kids hopped onto the tram. One of the children caught my attention. He must have been around 8 or 9 years of age. He had blonde hair and a big grin, and was chatting excitedly with his friends. In his hands, he held a model. I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about, but his body language told me he was excited about his creation. He was busy explaining to his buddies how it worked, oblivious to what was going on around him in the tram. It is always very charming to see people passionate about their thoughts and deeds.

I gestured to ask him if I could take a picture of him with his model. He nodded without a moment of hesitation, and held it up for me to snap a shot. His smile was genuine, not intentionally posed for the picture. He was not shy, and his behavior told me that he was very trusting of people (even strangers). It was natural for him to respond to a stranger’s request this way. His face made a deep and lasting impression on me.

He was happy to accommodate my request for a picture.

Another child enjoying one of life's simple pleasures.

Such genuine happiness in a simple joy in life – there are few things in the world that can compare to such purity. We can find it often in children, if we look closely enough. With age, we tend to lose such purity of heart more and more until, one day, it becomes a novelty to us when we see it.

I think we should add another developmental task in older age—to reinvent the purity of our hearts in order to rediscover the simple joys in life. I believe this could be the key to happiness and contentment in old age. At least I believe so for now.

For Reflections on Nursing Leadership (RNL), published by the Honor Society of Nursing, Sigma Theta Tau International.

How should we relate to the misfortunes of this world?

I traveled with my sister after attending the board meeting of interRAI, an international health care research group, in Nuremberg, Germany. I am not a member of this group, but my teacher—my doctoral thesis supervisor—is. Thanks to her, I was invited as a guest. I thought this would be a good chance for me to learn.

After the meeting, I traveled with my sister to Vienna, Venice and Rome. I don’t know why, but the most disturbing thing for me on this trip was the panhandlers and beggars. There are beggars in all three cities. I am aware that I live a fairly comfortable life, sheltered and secure. I am also aware that there are many people who are very unfortunate. But I had no idea I would react this way. This was not the first time I had traveled overseas and definitely not the first time I had seen people who were very poor.

I believe that Hong Kong has no beggars who are from Hong Kong. We have homeless people, but no beggars. We used to have Hong Kong people who begged, but not anymore. I believe that the beggars we see on the streets of Hong Kong come from across the border (mainland China) to make a living. Because the social welfare system of the Government of Hong Kong has developed gradually over the years, no one needs to beg. For me, as a citizen of Hong Kong, this is an immensely comforting fact.

There I was in Europe, traveling as a tourist, enjoying myself, spending money as I chose. But there were people begging for money. I found myself not knowing how to relate, both to them and the situation. I looked at their faces, and sometimes our eyes met. I did not give to those I judged to be “professional” beggars. I gave a euro or two to those I thought might be in dire need. And then I moved on.

There were some old gypsy men and women in Rome who sat in front of churches begging for money. I knew in my heart that day in and day out, they sat there asking passersby for money. Begging has become a way of life for them. I didn’t give them any money, but I was so filled with remorse that I looked at them and apologized. I kept saying, “I am sorry,” “I am sorry.” Even professional beggars are beggars because they have the misfortune to be on a life path that, clearly, no one who had a choice would choose.

Phil Collins recorded a song called “Another day in paradise.” I am very much the person he described: Someone in the street “called out” for help but I pretended not to hear it. Streams of locals and tourists walked past these unfortunate people, just like me.

So what should I do? How do I relate to these people who are less fortunate than I am? Do I go back to my usual life and continue to live as I did, selfishly? Do I give up my limited resources and donate them all to charity? Do I take up charitable causes and live my life as a crusader?

I know I can’t do that. I can’t give all my money away. My sense of security is important to me. What then should I do? How should I live my life? I find my silly self asking the questions I asked when I was a young adult, passionately seeking a purpose in life. Should I not be past that stage by now?

For Reflections on Nursing Leadership (RNL), published by the Honor Society of Nursing, Sigma Theta Tau International.