Fragile but Strong

– the Power of Generations

By Tuula Pere

November 17^th, 2021

Illustration by Andrea Alemanno

Fragile but Strong – the Power of Generations

My grandmother's height was barely up to my shoulder, and she did not weigh much at an old age. Still, there was no wind to blow her down. That little old woman – born before the year 1900 – was strong in my eyes.

Many disagree if I say that elderly people are strong and have a lot of power and that children are in a key position. Indeed, most of them do not have the same physical strength, political power, or influence for society as those living the peak years of their lives. But there is no excuse to undermine the value of their existence!

The oldest may not be the most talented athletes or the most skilled computer users, or the youngest may not have much to say yet as they are most keen on the basic needs of a human being. But we need to pay special attention to the generations at opposite ends of human life and the importance and unique role of these generations, especially if they find a link between each other.

My grandmother's height was barely up to my shoulder, and she did not weigh much at an old age. Still, there was no wind to blow her down. Her skin was already so thin that blood vessels were visible through, and she easily got bruises. But she didn't give up. She still warmed her cottage with wood, made food, and knitted dozens of woolen socks.

I had heard about her earlier life from other relatives, but the best thing was when she told me about her experiences as we sat together in her little cottage. Those hours were plenty.

That little old woman – born before the year 1900 – was strong in my eyes. She and her siblings had survived the loss of their parents and other hardships in their lives. Out of her seven children, the majority made it until mature age and lived a decent life.

My grandmother enjoyed music, singing, and radio – as I do as well. Her father had been a miller and a folk musician who also built violins himself. From everything she told me, I could sense her love for her father, who had died too early. It was apparent how the good memories helped her survive the difficult times later.

Sometimes I tell my children about the life of my Tiny Granny. They are honest stories about wartime, disease, poverty, and even hunger – stories about hard work and underestimation. They don't make the listeners happy, but I think it's a way to show respect if we don't forget the struggle of past generations.

As a children's author, I have a challenge. Hardly anybody wants to hear true stories about children who had to carry too much far too early. I have listened to these real-life stories told by several people. Even the most challenging experiences and the deepest sighs I have heard give me power and purpose for my writing – but they need to be modified to suit children's understanding and capacity.

Societies are developing. There are new possibilities for new generations. We need to encourage children to find their strength and their individual path. That's why my stories tell about survival, respect, and helping.