I dreamed

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, 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 worked in the child

Could never be sold or bought.

And each agreed they would have failed

If she had worked alone

For behind the parent stood the school

And behind the teacher the home.