He doesn't like anyone to hold his hand!

A little while ago, Mitsuko, my wife, and I went to pick the beans on our little farm plot. The University has a green lab, which consists of a couple of greenhouses, several little concrete rice paddies, and a whole series of small plots that they encourage members of the University to use for vegetable farming. They are small, perhaps 5' x 10' in size? Just about enough for three rows of vegetables.

Anyway, we went to pick beans. And in the neighboring plot, a young man and his wife were working on their vegetables, with the help of their two sons. One was maybe six years old, and the other was probably about four. The four-year-old had a scoop in his hands and was happily running around.

After a while, he decided that I needed help. So he brought me a rock. I accepted it, and thanked him. He giggled and ran away. Then he brought me the scoop. He handed it to me, went away, and then came back and took the scoop again.

I'm pretty sure that the mother decided that we all didn't need quite so much help. So she suggested that the six-year-old take the four-year-old for a walk. What happened next was not exactly what she had expected.

The six-year-old came over and asked me to go walking with them. I said sure, and we lined up to go walking. I think the six-year-old took one hand first. However, fairly soon, a small hand grabbed several fingers of my other hand. So we walked along, one boy on each of my hands.

That's when I noticed that the mother was taking pictures of us. But we went along, looking at various rocks -- the four-year-old picked up at least a couple of them to take with us -- and ladybugs. The six-year-old really wanted to catch one, but wasn't quite able to. He was very impressed when I got one and gave it to him.

Having walked around for a while, we went back to the plots. That's when I found out what was so exciting, why they were taking pictures.

His mother said, "He doesn't even let the kindergarten school teacher take his hand. How did you do that?"

I thought about it, and then said, "I didn't take his hand. I let him take mine."

The four-year-old actually took me around the garden again one more time that afternoon. This time he simply grabbed my hand, so we went for a walk.

Sometimes it's better to let the other person make the first move.