“Here’s a prize for the student who guesses correctly the year in which I was a fourth-grader in the public schools of this town.” That was my opening gambit on entering a classroom at the Hosmer School in Watertown two weeks ago.

I was there at the invitation of the school, along with various other guests who signed up to read to the students for an hour or so. What a privilege to interest young students in an activity that will be among the most important in their future lives. And what fun as well!

The first guess, incidentally, was 1928, the year of my birth. It did not take long, however, for an enterprising boy to guess 1938, the correct answer. He received from me a bright red key-ring in recognition of his ingenuity.

For my prose selections, I promised one serious essay and one lighthearted and humorous. The first focused on Rick Pitino and his notion of success. Many students identified Coach Pitino right away, especially the boys.

Attention among the students admittedly wandered a bit during my written discussion of what makes for a full life. But I wanted to make the students stretch, to think about a subject beyond their age level.

When I offered another prize for a summary of this essay’s message, a student came close to the heart of the matter by focusing on the importance of family members and friends in estimating success.

The second essay focused on Phileas J. Fogg, our family cat, and scored a great success with the students. They paid rapt attention and laughed at Phil’s antics and my jokes. Predictably, perhaps, for ten-year olds, they especially enjoyed the way I had foiled Phil’s attempts to slurp water from the toilet bowl.

The discussion period that followed was animated by lively give and take. They were much amused by my assertion that Phil, were he to speak at all, would speak French. Three of the students speak that language themselves and  one of them served as translator of my greeting to Phil.

Far from intimidating, I found it heartwarming to be in the classroom with these students. Their liveliness quickened my senses and their guileless replies moved me to laughter. The age gap between them and me proved a source of mutual stimulation rather than incomprehension. Seventy can speak to ten; in turn, ten can speak to seventy.

Among the sharp questions the students asked, two stand out in memory: “Did you always want to be a writer?” “Where do you get your ideas?”

The latter is a particularly perceptive inquiry that led me to explain how I go about the task of writing – – I sift my daily experience for its meaning. I urged the students to do the same, to begin writing diaries that will record what happens to them, no matter how humble events  may appear on the surface.

Later I thought back to what Julienne, a woman in Indiatlantic, Florida told me this past winter. “I prefer to live with people my age. I feel I’m out of step with the younger generation. I’m uncomfortable around them. I have nothing to talk about with them. I don’t know anything about their world except what I read in the papers.”

How sad! For this woman to chose age segregation strikes me as regrettable both for her and for young people as well. Mary Pipher  in a new book, Another Country: Navigating the Emotional Terrain of Our Elders, writes about older people who have almost no contact with anyone but their age peers.

“Meanwhile, all over America we have young children hungry for ‘lap time’ and older children who need skills, nurturing, and moral instruction from their elders.” She concludes: “There is a lot wrong with this picture.”

Indeed, there is. We need one another, older and younger. Children need the perspectives that long living brings. And we elders need the stimulation that comes from youthful emotions. Just being in that classroom that morning at the Hosmer School made me feel high the rest of the day.

I almost felt envious of the teachers who took part in our event. Norma Ciccarelli, Sharon Risso, and Eleanor Casey all struck me as finding joy in their charges. They were wonderfully supportive of me that day and formed something of a rooting section as I played an unfamiliar sport.

In practice, these teachers no doubt experience many challenges to their morale in reaching out to students and their families in a time of  much dislocation in American society. But they seemed marvelously sympathetic as they try to bring out the best in their students.

We all have a vital stake in the young people around us. Whatever the problems of some in living up to expectations, they remain the promise of our community, the future adults who will receive our legacy.

Richard Griffin