Thailand's embrace of its youngest treasures

While foreigners often praise Thailand for its hospitality, I've come to believe children may be the group the country cherishes most. Few countries devote an entire national celebration so wholeheartedly for children — not as a commercial occasion, but as a deeply rooted social value.

Rather than observing the International Children's Day on June 1, Thailand celebrates Wan Dek, or National Children's Day, on the second Saturday of January each year. Across the country, the message is unmistakable: children are the nation's most precious resource.

The celebrations begin even before the holiday arrives. Schools organize performances, games and community events, with children receiving gifts from teachers.

On Children's Day, youngsters are showered with affection by family members and strangers alike. Shopping malls host concerts, while public attractions lower ticket prices or open free of charge to families. Streets fill with children clutching balloons and snacks, walking with a rare sense of collective joy.

Yet, what struck me most was not the festivities themselves, but the seriousness with which Thai society treats childhood.

On the day, children are invited to the Government House, where they can sit in the prime minister's office — a symbolic gesture affirming that they matter.

Prime Minister Anutin Charnvirakul introduced this year's slogan "Love Thailand, Care for the World", emphasizing civic responsibility, environmental awareness and global citizenship.

The Royal Thai Air Force opens its bases to the public for large-scale celebrations featuring aircraft displays, military demonstrations, interactive games and live performances.

Last year, I took my son to one of the events, and it felt less like a military showcase than a nationwide carnival. Tens of thousands attended. Children climbed onto aircraft cockpits as smiling air force personnel lifted them up for photos.

Shuttle buses moved between parking areas and the venue. Volunteers distributed free bottled water. Temporary stalls sold food and toys at modest prices. The atmosphere was orderly yet warm — a public celebration designed not only for children, but also for the people around them.

My son talked about the event for weeks afterward. But the kindness he experienced that day was not unusual in Thailand. It reflected something more ordinary — and perhaps more meaningful.

I still remember our initial weeks in Bangkok after we moved there three years ago. Our son was only 4, and every morning we walked him to the kindergarten. Along a route of barely 10 minutes, four or five strangers would smile, wave or greet him warmly — security guards, fruit vendors, lottery sellers, people we had never met before.

That openness is evident in daily life. Market vendors often slip extra fruit into his hands. Staff at the shopping malls and play centers offer him snacks or candy. On Bangkok's elevated Skytrain, passengers routinely offer him a seat, even now, at 7, when he's perfectly capable of standing.

Over time, I have watched my once shy and sensitive child change. Thailand has rewarded his attempts to engage with the world rather than discouraging them. When he speaks to restaurant staff, people praise him. When he helps carry luggage at the airport, fellow passengers compliment his manners. Encouragement comes easily and naturally from strangers.

Perhaps, most revealing is the patience that Thai society shows toward children when they are not at their best.

Young children cry. Six-year-olds can be loud, restless and impulsive. Parents sometimes lose their cool. These are universal realities. Yet, I've rarely seen adults glaring at misbehaving children with rage, scolding them or humiliating the parents struggling to calm them down.

There's a familiar saying in China that children are the flowers of the motherland, reflecting a long-standing belief that the younger generation embodies the nation's future.

In many ways, China has made extraordinary progress in caring for children, with the health of children continuing to improve in recent years. Official data showed that the net enrollment rate for primary school-aged children remained at 99.9 percent, covering around 160 million students nationwide.

With the rise in social media platforms such as Douyin — China's TikTok — and Xiaohongshu, or RedNote, parenting bloggers have attracted huge audiences. Videos capturing children's innocence, humor and candid remarks have won the hearts of countless adults.

For many, children offer a rare sense of purity and wonder amid the pressures of modern life. Yet, online debates over "wild children" — those seen as disruptive or badly behaved — also emerge from time to time.

While people continue to adore these lovable children, such conversations have also prompted deeper reflection on how parents and society should guide the next generation — so that the kindness, sincerity and innocence of childhood can continue into adulthood.

My observations are deeply personal. Still, I wonder whether Thailand offers a small but meaningful answer.

The core value of Children's Day in Thailand underscores a simple social philosophy: parents should lead by example, while children should grow up with gratitude, respect and emotional security. The idea is straightforward — the way society treats children shapes how those children eventually treat the world.

To be raised with love means far more than hearing the words "I love you". It means growing up feeling emotionally safe, accepted without constant judgment, listened to rather than being dismissed, and disciplined with patience rather than humiliation.

Children raised with respect often learn to respect others. Those treated with kindness tend to pass on that kindness. Perhaps, that is the quiet wisdom behind Thailand's affection for children: a society that makes space for its youngest members ultimately produces gentler adults too.

The author is chief correspondent at China Daily Asia-Pacific Bureau based in Bangkok.

Contact the writer at yangwanli@chinadaily.com.cn