Stockton’s Small Business of the Year 2003-2004

I (Ginny) am planning a 70^th birthday party for my sister. When I told her, she said, “Oh, you just want everyone to remember I’m older than you!” I said, “No, no, it’s not like that! It’s more like you’re Prince William and I’m just Prince Harry!”

While there are advantages to being older, it’s really only a matter of perception. Who knows? William might secretly wish he’d been born the younger brother, with less pressure and fewer responsibilities, and Harry might wish he’d been born to be king.

Despite our three-year difference, my sister and I agree unequivocally on one thing: neither of us would want to go back to any younger age in our lives. In retrospect, each decade of my life has been measurably better than the one before it. (I’ll admit the onset of my sixties was a bit rough, but now that I’ve settled in comfortably… no complaints.)

My daughter recently played DVD’s for us chronicling the first year of her first baby’s life. We watched with total delight… for hours. Second baby? Twenty minutes. (Maybe this is why second children grow up believing “mom loved him/her best” -- no such thing as undivided attention. ) In our case, however, it was more a matter of personality. Sis was quiet, obedient, unassuming, and easy-care. I was a ball of energy, daunting, high maintenance and far from manageable. Raising me was beyond my mother’s skill level. And that’s why I say,

Along with teaching through books and lectures, they fill in important blanks that exist in some kids‘ lives. My teachers opened my eyes to a way of living that was as foreign to me as visiting a new and distant country every day. School was exciting! It was fun! It felt safe. I felt welcomed, and appreciated. OF COURSE I wanted to grow up to be a teacher! And thank goodness I didn’t. There is no way in… well, no way I could have dealt with the inherent complexities. How fortunate we are as a society, however, to have individuals who can and do.