Father David Rosenman often visits the café near where he lives with his 9-year-old daughter. In a post he shared on Facebook the father talks about his routine of entering the shop with his daughter, having a coffee and allowing her to work on his crafts while he catches up on emails, reads the paper and browses the Internet.
This week he says he learned the importance of just being with his child when he obliged with her request to just not do anything. Not only was the day more enjoyable, his actions were noted by an appreciative teacher.
David writes:
Dear Fellow Human Beings,
This morning, at her request, I took our 9-year-old daughter to a coffee shop. She brought with her a little crocheting activity; I brought the newspaper, a notebook & pen, and my phone. This was going to be an outing not unlike others we’d had before: while sitting at the same table, we’d do our own things -- she'd keep herself occupied with something, and I'd catch-up on emails, organize my week, get work done, etc. Sound familiar? Today, she made one additional request: “Daddy, can you not read the paper or doodle or check email today? Can we just be together?” I’m not trying to be melodramatic; that was her question.
So today, we were together. She showed me her yarn project. I recalled the day she was born. We compared notes about whether or not couples at other tables were on “dates” (she likes to impersonate people on dates -- resting her smiling face on her hand and practicing a starry-eyed stare). She told me about her friends and their hamsters. I watched her chew her breakfast sandwich and melted a little bit as I thought about how much I love her. I wished it hadn’t taken her past experience and her courageous reaching out for me to give her the attention she so wanted and needed.
Before we left, I went up to the counter to order a take-out snack for her brother. When I returned to our table, there was a note, left face-down, in front of my seat. My daughter told me that a woman, before leaving the coffee shop, had asked her if I was her father and said that the message was for me. I looked around (nobody was there) and flipped over the paper to find the words below. This anonymous message was enough of a reinforcement for me, that I hope more people might be guided by its power and by its author’s thoughtfulness.
Please don’t wait for your child or other loved one to plead for your attention like mine did -- he or she might not. Expect that no one will leave a note for you -- such beauty in this world is far too rare. I invite you to share the gift of this experience with me: choose to be present today -- even for just a little while -- for someone you love. If you see it happen somewhere, consider leaving a note -- it sure does leave an impression.
David
The post has received thousands of shares and serves as a much needed reminder to switch off, disconnect and just be present.
