UNITY

I dreamt I stood in 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 he 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 touch,

That was deft and sure.

While the parent laboured by his side,

And polished it o'er.

And when at last, their task was done,

They were proud of what they had wrought.

For the things they had moulded into the child,

Could be neither sold or bought.

And each agreed they would have failed,

If each had worked alone.

For behind the teacher stood the school,

And behind the parent, the home!

Author Unknown.