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  •  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 and music and art;
    One was a parent with a guiding hand
    and a gentle loving heart.

    And when at last their work was done
    They were proud of what they had wrought
    For the things they had worked into the child
    Could never be sold or bought.

    And each agreed she would have failed
    if she had worked alone
    For behind the parent stood the school,
    and behind the teacher stood the home.

    -Author Unknown

     

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