A Granddaughter’s Delightful Complexity

To Learn and to Admire

Rachel’s Daughters

Our daughter, Rachel, has three daughters. They live far away so we see them only once or twice a year. Kids change a lot over the course of a year, so even in the age of FaceTime and Instagram, being with them in person can bring surprises.

Last summer Rachel’s three girls, then 17, 14, and 10, were with us for a few days. The eldest was about to start her last year of high school. She’s always been an overachiever both in school and in extracurricular activities; quietly self-possessed, confident, and competent.

Her younger sister is different, both physically and in temperament; beautiful and fun, light and bright; never one for school or serious matters. She’s forgiven nearly anything because she’s so warm, charming, and likable.

The little one is an athlete, full of physical energy and ability. She’s a natural politician; she knows everybody in the small town where they live, and everyone knows her.

That’s what we do, isn’t it? In a sentence or two, I’ve just tried to convey my sense of the dominant characteristics of three young people whom I love and for whom I would do anything.

I’ve labeled them in accordance with my own understanding of them and offered a description of them in just a few words. They are words I’ve thought about, and they are intended to be both accurate and loving. As I have worked on those few sentences, I’ve asked myself how I would feel if they read what I have written, or how their parents or my wife might feel. I have been concerned that nothing I’ve said would be hurtful to any of them, but that my words are true and would be seen as true.

Six months ago, I would have assumed that I could write about those girls with the confidence of a grandfather’s knowledge. We don’t see them every day or even every month. But I know them, don’t I? I love them, certainly, and I think of them daily. I write to them. I often scroll through pictures that would embarrass them but that delight me. I have a catalog of memories of them that I cherish and that I warm myself with in the long periods we are apart. I look forward anxiously to the next time we can be together.

But I was utterly surprised and delighted six months ago when I came to understand something that I had not known.

The Incident

My wife, the three girls, and I were sitting in our kitchen, just chatting about our dogs and school and camp and friends and travels just a sweet time with the kids while their parents were out doing something. I noticed that the little one had pulled away a bit and was concentrating on her phone.

After a few minutes, wanting her to rejoin the conversation, I asked what she was doing. My guess was that she was playing a game because, at just ten, she hadn’t yet gotten too deeply into social media. Our time with them was so short I didn’t want a game to interfere. The eldest must have seen that in my face, so she explained, “It’s Duolingo.”

I didn’t know Duolingo and that was also apparent, I guess, so she added, “It’s a language-learning app.”

Now, these kids are fluent in Hebrew and English, but the little one’s English has never been quite as good as her sisters.’ My first thought was that she must be looking up some English expressions that she wasn’t sure about, and I felt an immediate pang of guilt that I had become impatient when the situation just reflected her insecurity. But I was wrong there, too.

As the little one continued to concentrate on her phone, the middle one piped up, “She’s learning Korean,” she said, in a very matter-of-fact tone. As if that were the most natural thing in the world for a ten-year-old Israeli girl to do when on vacation in New Jersey. I mean, why would I even ask?

The eldest added, “She got interested in it a while ago. She’s on the app all the time.”

I asked her to show me. She held her phone towards me; the Korean characters clear on the screen with their English translations. She then played the audio of the words there and repeated them in what sounded to me like a good imitation.

She had apparently seen a Korean anime movie and became interested in its characters and in their stories and environment. Rather than expressing her interest by watching more movies or finding anime video games, she decided to learn the language.

And here I thought she was feeling insecure because her English was not perfect, when in fact she was using her second language as a basis for learning a third. And she’s ten! And she’s the one whose most obvious talents are physical.

I knew the girl whom I have taken to soccer practice and to tennis lessons, to Capoeira and modern dance classes, who is the first to try anything physically challenging and who is always happily exhibiting an assortment of bumps and bruises for her efforts.

I didn’t know the girl who would decide to learn Korean and to do it by herself, just because she was interested.

I was impressed and utterly charmed, and more than a little guilty that I would not have expected that from her.

I have no idea if she is still studying now, six months or so later. Maybe she is and maybe not. That’s not really the point.

The point is that I would not have expected it from her, and that’s not a good thing for me to admit. I underestimated my granddaughter.

Sorry, sweetie. I won’t make that mistake again.

Love, Saba

Thanks for reading!