Unity

I dreamed 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 she used were books, music and art.

 The other, a parent, working with 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 her 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 a child,

Could neither be sold nor bought.

And each agreed they would have failed,

If each had worked alone.

 For behind the parents stood the school,

And behind the teacher, the home.

Author Unknown