Jackie Jarvis writes

“Childhood is that wonderful time of life when all you need to do to lose weight is take a bath.” Richard Zera

Being a product of the ’50s and ’60s as I am, my early years were a far cry from those of youngsters growing up today.

For one thing, life passed at a slower pace and was much less demanding. There were no expensive electronic gizmos, twenty-four-seven television, a wardrobe crammed to the rafters with all the latest styles and a social life to rival that of a Hollywood A-lister for us simple souls.

I had to be content with hand-me-downs for the most part.

But as I had no concept of fashion sense until I was at least 14 years of age it mattered not a jot that I must have resembled something of a mini scarecrow in my shabby shorts and second-hand T-shirt, riddled with snags from catching it on one too many branches, with the obligatory grazed knee to complete the look.

Summers of wall-to-wall sunshine during those halcyon days of my youth seemed to stretch ahead like an eternity, eagerly waiting to be filled with long bike rides through remote country lanes and hanging out of trees like a little monkey.

A lack of organized entertainment handed to us on a plate allowed us the freedom to let our imaginations run wild. We made our own fun and we stayed children for longer. It was truly an age of innocence.

During the school holidays, apart from when we were all packed o to the seaside, along with cat and granny, for our annual two week family sojourn, my mother was lucky if she saw me for more than a few hours each day.

Rising with the larks, I’d head of with my partners in crime, a motley crew of scruffy little urchins, for some mischiefmaking in the great outdoors, only returning home when my tummy alerted me to the fact that it was time for tea.

I don’t think my dear old mum gave a passing thought to my safety whilst I was out playing with my pals in some isolated and, looking back, potentially dangerous place.

Now, as a mother only too aware of the hazards facing our precious cargo in a world full of evil predators and a society that sadly chooses to pass by on the other side, I shudder to think of the possible pitfalls to which I could have been exposed.

Is it that 50 years ago the same level of danger just did not exist, or is it that, in this era of 24-hour media horror stories, we are simply more aware of the risks faced by our children if they are allowed to venture out, God forbid, into the world alone?

Yes, it is our duty to keep our kids safe but we shouldn’t suffocate them with so much cotton wool that they are denied the joys and freedom of a carefree childhood and the space to breathe. There has to be a happy medium. 

After all, in order to grow into well-rounded, independent, adults with a balanced view of life, they have to experience both sides of the coin, good and bad.