Posts filed under ‘.children’

Small Steps Are Giant Leaps

by Aaron Sheldon
ssagl

Small Steps are Giant Leaps” is about reminding parents that to our kids this is a new and exciting world just waiting to be explored.

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April 28, 2016 at 1:41 pm Leave a comment

Cat’s In The Cradle

by Sandy & Harry Chapin

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April 27, 2016 at 8:25 pm Leave a comment

Children’s Songs in Kyoto

Happy Children’s Day!
ChildrenDay

May 5, 2015 at 5:15 am Leave a comment

Il vecchio e il bambino

By Francesco Guccini

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September 4, 2014 at 8:25 pm Leave a comment

Indian Children

by Annette Wynne

Where we walk to school each day
Indian children used to play-
All about our native land,
Where the shops and houses stand.

And the trees were very tall,
And there were no streets at all,
Not a church and not a steeple-
Only woods and Indian people.

Only wigwams on the ground,
And at night bears prowling round-
What a different place today
Where we live and work and play!

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November 27, 2013 at 8:25 pm Leave a comment

On Children

by Kahlil Gibran

Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them,
but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children
as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,
and He bends you with His might
that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
so He loves also the bow that is stable.

June 1, 2013 at 8:25 pm Leave a comment

Children

by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Come to me, O ye children!
For I hear you at your play,
And the questions that perplexed me
Have vanished quite away.

Ye open the eastern windows,
That look towards the sun,
Where thoughts are singing swallows
And the brooks of morning run.

In your hearts are the birds and the sunshine,
In your thoughts the brooklet’s flow,
But in mine is the wind of Autumn
And the first fall of the snow.

Ah! what would the world be to us
If the children were no more?
We should dread the desert behind us
Worse than the dark before.

What the leaves are to the forest,
With light and air for food,
Ere their sweet and tender juices
Have been hardened into wood, —

That to the world are children;
Through them it feels the glow
Of a brighter and sunnier climate
Than reaches the trunks below.

Come to me, O ye children!
And whisper in my ear
What the birds and the winds are singing
In your sunny atmosphere.

For what are all our contrivings,
And the wisdom of our books,
When compared with your caresses,
And the gladness of your looks?

Ye are better than all the ballads
That ever were sung or said;
For ye are living poems,
And all the rest are dead.

June 1, 2013 at 5:25 am Leave a comment

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