“Unity”

I dreamed I stood in a studio And watched two sculptures there. The clay they used was a young child’s mind And they fashioned it with care.

One was a teacher – the tools he/she used were books, music and art. The other, a parent, worked with a guiding hand, and a gentle, loving heart.

Day after day, the teacher toiled with touch That was careful, deft and sure. While the parent labored by his side and polished and smoothed it o’er.

And when at last, their task was done, They were proud of what they had wrought for the things they had molded into the child could never be sold nor bought.

And each agreed they would have failed If each had worked alone. For behind the parent stood the schoool and behind the teacher, the home.

_
Unknown

Advertisements
Comments are closed.