Here is a poem that I thought is very fitting for the beginning of the year!
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 book, 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 careful, deft, and sure.
While the parent labored by her side and polished and smoothed it o’er.
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 they would have failed if each had worked alone.
For behind the parent stood the school and behind the teacher, the home.