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 she used were books, music, and art
One a parent with a guiding hand and a loving, gentle heart.
Day after day the teacher toiled with touch that was deft and sure,
While the parent labored by her side and polished and smoothed it over.
And when at last their task was done, they were proud of what they had wrought.
For all the things they had molded into the child could not be sold or bought.
And each agreed she would have failed if she’d have worked alone. For behind the parent stood the school, and behind the teacher, the home.
Looking forward to working together with you this year!