Rich relatives, poor relatives

My father had a rich relative, a cousin who was a self made man. He had earned the respect of his community by building up his own business. He was a gracious person who took responsibility for helping out his many relatives. But this story is not about him. It's about how I saw my parents and uncles and aunts act around him. When he was around, they all seemed a little off balance, not knowing exactly what to say or to do. They developed ingratiating smiles and ran to fetch chairs. Awed by their superior, they tossed urgent instructions at their inferiors (children and servants) - touch uncle's feet, get him a cold drink - in a "how come you didn't know this already" tone. I don't think they realized that they were groveling, but it was pretty evident to a clear eyed child. It was somewhat unnerving as well, to watch adults lose their habitual confidence.

My mother had a poor relative, a cousin's daughter widowed early in life. She had no education or skills. She had two children and every month went round to various uncles' houses to pick up an allowance on which her family subsisted. She would come and sit in a corner and wait. No one was rude to her exactly, I'm sure she was given tea and snacks at some point, but they went about their business and essentially ignored her. I remember being 11 years old and very uncomfortable. That's not how I had been taught to treat visitors. You were supposed to give them your attention and make them feel welcome. And yet, here they were, my elders, going against their own professed norms.

This poor cousin had been one of the first children of her generation in that joint family. There must have been a time when she was a deeply loved child. The rich relative had not always been rich. There must have been a time when he was just another favorite cousin. But life had shaken and sorted everyone out into their places and all that remained of any natural affection was the unconscious calculus of relative power.