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 he used

Were books, music and art.

One was a parent who worked with a

Guiding hand and a gentle loving heart.


Day after day the teacher toiled

With a touch that was deft and sure;

While the parent labored by his 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 be neither sold or bought.


And each agreed that he would have failed

If he had worked alone.

For behind the teacher stood the school-

And behind the parent  the home!

Author Unknown