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 tool she

used was books, music, and art.

The other, a parent, and a gentle,

loving heart.

Day after day the teacher toiled

with a touch that was careful,

deft and sure.

While the parent laboured by her

side and polished and smoothed

it over.

And then at last, their task was

done, they were proud of what

they had wrought.

For the things they had moulded

into the child could neither

be sold nor bought.

And each agreed they would have

failed if each had worked alone.

For behind the parent stood

the school and behind the

teacher the home.

~Unknown Author