UNITY
I dreamed I stood in a studio
And watched the 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 and 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 had molded into the child
Could never be sold or bought.
And each agreed he would have failed
If he had worked alone.
For behind the parent stood the school,
And behind the teacher, stood the home
Author Unknown