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Moulding a Promise






One of my favorite parts of the holiday season is going to programs that feature children —often so humorous and uninhibited. Today was a Thanksgiving program given by the first graders. As they sang “I am a Promise,” while each of their precious little faces flashed up on the big screen, I couldn’t help but think of this poem:

I took a piece of plastic clay
And idly fashioned it one day.
And as my fingers pressed it, still
It moved and yielded to my will.

I came again when days were past:
The bit of clay was hard at last.
The form I gave it still it bore,
And I could fashion it no more!

I took a piece of living clay,
And gently pressed it day by day,
And moulded with my power and art
A young child’s soft and yielding heart.

I came again when years had gone:
It was a man I looked upon.
He still that early impress bore
And I could fashion it no more.

Author Unknown

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