THE WISDOM OF THE IVYVERSE

       We all have different abilities and talents. Even though most of us really can’t claim to have the kinds of talents Ivy and her friends do, let’s look at having a special talent, like Ivy. Some of her experiences can surely be generalized to anything a person can be good at.

       Ivy finds herself amused by regular people’s way of getting around in the world despite lacking her abilities:

[I]t was funny how humans had little devices to move stuff out of their reach. It was a nice substitute. —Ivy, Book 1, Chapter 2

. . . [T]he conveyor belt, which was another modern convenience I found interesting, yet highly useless. I couldn’t get over how creative humans were in making up for their lack of telekinetic powers. —Ivy, Book 1, Chapter 11

       Lots of us may have had this experience. Those of us who spell well don’t need to use the spell-checker, and those of us with good senses of direction marvel at how those without it have managed to invent a compass to make up for it. You may find yourself a bit disturbed at the idea of people who manage to get through life without the benefit of your talent, and it may prompt you to offer your assistance:

I felt strangely pleased and a little eager to offer my assistance . . . but I didn’t want them to take it as me showing off or bragging. —Ivy, Book 2, Chapter 21

       It feels good to be useful. If you know someone who’s good at fixing cars and offers to fix yours, let them, and thank them for it. And if you’re good with computers, go ahead and offer to install someone else’s new operating system. When people’s abilities and talents vary, the best thing to do is acknowledge it for what it is, and both help and be helped.