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May 6, 2003
Unity
I dreamt I stood in a studio,
and watched two sculptors there.
The clay they used was a young child's mind
And they fashioned it with care.
One was a teacher - the tools he 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 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 neither be sold nor bought.
And each agreed they would have failed
If each had worked alone.
For behind the teacher stood the school
And behind the parent, the home.
Author unknown
I am still up to my ears in Silent Auction affairs, but wanted to share this poem that I received in Lexi's backpack the other day from her teacher. Attached to the poem was a little note that thanked me for all of my hard work. While I don't expect any accolades for what I do for Lexi's school, it's nice to be appreciated all the same and I was touched that she took the time to share this poem with me and wanted to post it here.
I hope that everyone is doing fine and I promise to get caught up soon. The Silent Auction is next Friday, May 16th and after that I should be back to visit with everyone.
From me and mine to you and yours ~ Stephanie
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