John Bishop, Idina Menzel and OMD

From comedian & writer Paul Kerensa:

I saw this family. On a cliff coastal walk, I’d paused for breath – I’d walked uphill for two minutes – and this extended family passed by. Different ages, walking different speeds.

Ahead, the two youngest ran with a dog, squabbling about who got to hold the lead. “You’ve had it longer!” “I’ve only just started!” “Let’s both hold it...” The poor hound was strangled this way and that. Their manoeuvres were far from orchestrated.

Just behind, two teenagers rolled their eyes at them – then moaned about a party they, like, didn’t want to go to anyway? And apparently he was there, and, like, what was he doing there anyway, and like... well for people who said ‘like’ a lot, they didn’t like much.

Behind them, fortysomething parents overheard the teenagers. Dad said: “They think they’ve got worries. Wait till they discover mortgages. And MOTs. And...”

Finally came the grandparents, who muttered: “Mortgages...? Wait till their knees stop working. Then they’ll have something to worry about.”

If great-grandparents had followed, I might’ve heard: “Knees? What they worrying about knees for?” Maybe they’d add their worries... or maybe they’d decide best not, and just enjoy the sun.

Zoomed-out, each generation’s burdens seemed amusing or irrelevant to the next. Truth is, when you’re in it, up close, it matters. But a great woman once sang: it’s funny how some distance makes everything seem small...

Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount said don’t worry about your life, food or clothes. Flowers don’t care what they’re going to wear... The cold never bothered them anyway. Alright, that’s a bit Jesus and a bit from someone Elsa.

Mortgages, parties, who drags the dog – they matter, to us. But now and then, things like Children In Need help us appreciate that others’ worries may be greater.

I grew up in and out of Great Ormond Street Hospital, born funny, with an ‘outie bladder’. I knew children there who’d love that walk – to be simply worried about who’s dragging the dog, or what party they’re invited to. Parents who’d give anything to just worry about mortgages, or their knees, rather than their children’s wellbeing. My hospital memories were brilliant: fun, visitors, outings. Today’s children deserve good memories too. 

As we all walk through life, maybe like that family, we can help each other on the uphill climbs, and like them, put the children first.