Unity
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 band, 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
Arid polished arid smoothed it o’er.
And when at last, their task was done,
They were proud of what they bad 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 school
And behind the teacher, the home.
-Author Unknown
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