I watched the father playing with his children. His two little girls on adjacent swings yelling "Higher, Daddy! Higher!" They were perhaps 3 and 4 year-olds. He was huge man around 6 foot tall. The girls were all blond in pink outfits. The family dog sniffed about in the filthy sand of the playground below their feet.

In other times, a huge man might be expected to be rough, even unrefined. In my childhood, he would have been a miner and certainly would not take care of children, let alone female children.

When he spoke to us briefly, as we watched our grandson sliding with his father, it was in soft neighborly tones; an office worker or programmer I guessed, though I didn't confirm it.

A child's love doesn't care about the size of the package.

My wife and I spent the week before Labor Day visiting our three sons in the city where they all chose to live. Grandma had volunteered our services to watch our grandson before the start of school.

For the first few days we watched our first Grandson while his mother prepared for the beginning of school year. She is a teacher. His father, our youngest son, had just returned to work as a media analyst/writer.

Despite raising our three boys, we had forgotten how much energy a four-year-old boy can have. On the one day we took our both our grandsons to a park  they tested the limits of our patience by running around and hiding in a playground castle.

On the last 2 days of our visit, we watched our second Grandson and his nine-month old sister.

Children are so matter of fact about what they do.  Discipline, once over, is totally forgotten. They hold no grudge. They are just as quick to run to hug you or ask you to play as they ever were.

They take criticism and discipline in stride and seem to return to their normal selves without any bad feelings.

We were careful to balance our discipline, a time out on a step, with praise. Their transgressions were such small incidents, already forgotten, but at the time seemed so important.

Is that what raising children is all about? Hold their hands to keep them from danger. Guide them as they play. And watch them grow.

On the way home my grandson asked "Grandpa, why don't you buy the house next to us so you can visit me all the time?". Four years old and already starting to be aware of the real estate market.

Our grand children were like whirlwinds, constantly busy playing, exploring and testing the limits of their world.

We returned to our home with a much greater appreciation of our quiet life style.