There are two age groups this world needs to show more kindness and attention: the very young and the very old.

Becoming a parent for the first time made me realize how much children need loving and well-intentioned adults.

Through cruel bad luck, many children lack them. A recent example I hesitate to mention, for it’s horrible, came out of China this month: Four children aged between five and 14 drank pesticide and died.

After their mother abandoned them earlier, they were left to fend for themselves when their father went off to find work.

One never has to look far for stories about children having a hard time.

When things go well, children grow into self-reliant, resilient adults able deal with the world around them. When they grow old, the reliance on loving, well-intentioned (younger) adults returns.

Having left my own family in Australia behind to make a new life here, it’s something I’ve reflected on a lot. It has become more and more socially acceptable to leave parents and grandparents behind and go where life takes us.

In earlier times, we took our old folks in. We said to ourselves that’s the least we owe them.

As a kid, I spent a lot of time with my grandmothers. One looked after her mother, plus many other elderly relatives and friends.

Looking back, I recall sitting with that grandmother in some 80- or 90-something-year-old’s home — like “Ma Bevan’s,” who lived next-door to my great-grandmother but was no relation.

One of my grandmothers is in her late 80s, and the other one will get a letter from the Queen if she reaches 100 early next year.

They live on their own, and for the one who looked after all those old folks when she was a little younger, the courtesy hasn’t really been returned.

We feel guilt, and then remind ourselves times were different back then.

That’s a lengthy introduction to a quick comment on the early Father’s Day visit four folks from the Suffolk’s Sheriff’s Office made to Autumn Care nursing home on Friday.

I tagged along with my camera and notepad for the story in Sunday’s newspaper; it was great to see the faces light up in response to a little unexpected human kindness — a Father’s Day card.

Though I ring them fairly often, I resolved to call my grandmothers — both grandfathers have died — over the weekend.

Between a 23-month-old daughter, a heavily pregnant wife, a graduation ceremony, cooking and cleaning, a Father’s Day dinner and so on, I didn’t get around to calling either of them. But I will again soon.

We have to make the time, because they gave so much of theirs, they still have so much to teach, and we’ll be there before we know it.