“We don’t stop playing because we grow old; we grow old because we stop playing.”

When I watch my seven grandkids, I realize something simple but profound — they already know the secret that so many adults forget. They know how to live with wide-open hearts. They don’t have to try to be joyful or curious or kind — it’s built into them. And somewhere along the way, as we grow older, most of us trade that gift for seriousness and worry.

Each time I’m with them, I get a front-row seat to what it truly means to be a kid at heart. I see it in their laughter, in the way they run barefoot through the yard, in how they turn the simplest afternoon into an adventure. They don’t plan their joy — they live it.

Kids are natural experts at living in the moment. They don’t dwell on what went wrong yesterday or what’s coming tomorrow. They find wonder in the smallest things — a worm in the dirt, a cloud shaped like a dragon, a leaf spinning in the wind. They remind me that imagination isn’t something you grow out of — it’s something you grow back into, if you let yourself.

When I spend time with them, I notice the qualities that keep a person truly young at heart:

• Kindness, because they instinctively care about one another.
• Curiosity, because they still ask “why?” a hundred times a day.
• Playfulness, because every task can become a game if you approach it with joy.
• Generosity, because sharing a cookie or a toy just feels right.
• Empathy, because they feel each other’s hurt before anyone has to explain it.
• Trustfulness, because they believe in people — and in possibilities.
• Imagination, because their minds can turn a stick into a sword, a couch into a castle.
• Sensitivity, because they notice the little things that adults often miss — a tone of voice, a sad look, a moment when someone needs a hand.

When I was raising my three daughters, I didn’t see these things as clearly as I do now. I was too caught up in my own world — working hard, trying to build a good life, trying to be the best father I could. But in the process, I missed some of the quiet beauty that children possess. Now, as a grandparent, I finally have the time and wisdom to slow down and really notice.

I see how naturally gentle and curious they are — and I also see how we, as adults, so often corrupt that innocence without even realizing it. We tell them, “Stop fooling around!” “Be quiet!” “Sit still!” “Don’t believe everything you hear!” And worst of all, we bark, “Stop acting like a child!”

What a thing to say — as if being childlike were something to be ashamed of. The truth is, it’s exactly what we should all be trying to get back to.

Every once in a while, I meet another adult who still carries that light — someone who hasn’t let life harden them. You can spot them instantly. They laugh easily, they see good in others, and they don’t take themselves too seriously. Being around serious adults can sometimes feel like walking through a room without oxygen — but being around people who are kids at heart feels like taking a deep, fresh breath.

I’ve learned that being a kid at heart isn’t about pretending to be young. It’s about protecting the part of yourself that still believes in goodness, laughter, and second chances. It’s about refusing to let cynicism take root.

When I see my grandkids playing, I know they’re teaching me — not the other way around. They remind me to keep wonder alive, to keep trusting, to stay sensitive to the beauty around me.

Growing older is inevitable. But growing up? That’s optional.