• Two Sculptors
     
    I dreamed I saw a studio
    And watched two sculptors there.
    The clay they used was a 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, worked with a guiding hand,
    And a gentle, loving heart.
     
    Day after day, the teacher toiled with a 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 the child
    Could neither be sold nor bought.
     
    And each agreed they would have failed
    If either had worked alone.
    For behind the parent stood the school
    And behind the teacher, the home. 
     
                                                                              ~Anonymous
     
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Last Modified on August 23, 2016