Many years ago at Thanksgiving time, I was feeling especially grateful for the kids' teachers. I wondered what I could do to thank them for so completely living up to the trust that we placed in them each day that we sent our children to school. On that day, this poem was the result of the tender feelings in my heart. Each Thanksgiving from then until Josh was too old, I thanked school teachers, piano teachers and church teachers with a copy of this poem and a fresh rose.
Ah, A Rose
Ah, a rose
Our rose
Planted, watered, pruned - so carefully tended
Us looking on with adoration, ignoring insignificant flaws
and seeing it's overall magnificence
Then, with great concern, plucked from our garden and sent out.
Yes, a rose
Our rose in your tender keeping
More watering, more pruning - still so carefully
You patiently teaching, seeing it's beauty and unselfishly
loving another's rose
'Til finally, touched yet unharmed, sent back to our garden.
SAB
No comments:
Post a Comment