Blog

I dreamed I stood in a studio

And watched two sculptors there

The clay they used was a child’s mind

And they fashioned it with care

One was a teacher and the tools she used

were books, music and art

one, a parent who worked with a guiding hand,

And a gentle loving heart

Day after day the teacher toiled

with touch that was deft and sure,

while parent labored by her side

And polished and smoothed it over

And when at last their work was done

They were proud of what they had wrought

For the things they had molded into the child

could neither be sold nor bought.

And each agreed he would have failed

If he had worked alone,

For behind the parent stood the school

And behind the teacher stood the home.

—– Author unknown