Tuesday, April 3, 2012

I Believe in You

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Every good teacher (or parent) will understand this poem...

I believe in you
When you yell across the room
Or call someone else a name.

I believe in you
When you say you don't want to do
Something that you've been asked to do.

I believe in you
When you take the blame quietly,
Knowing it wasn't your fault--
Knowing that, probably, no one understands.

I believe in you
When you're bored and would rather be somewhere else
Having fun
But you buckle down and do your work anyway
And stay in school.

I believe in you
When the world around you makes bad choices--
But you don't.
I pray you never will

I love your red hair, blonde hair, black hair, and brown.
I love your freckles, white skin, brown skin, black skin, and tan.
I love you, not for what you are on the outside,
But what you are on the inside.

I believe in you when you try,
When you don't try,
When you turn the world upside down
Or try to set it right.

I believe in you
For who you were, who you are,
And who I know that you can be.

Sometimes I see your good manners, your caring ways,
And I think what wonderful parents you must have
And how proud they'd be if they could see you right now.
Don't ever shame them, but live to make them proud.
Bring them up with you before the world.

I've seen you hurt, seen you care,
Seen you stand together as a unit,
Seen your hands:
Your little, growing hands,
That went from holding toys in Show and Tell
To skillfully throwing balls through a hoop (or at the wall).
Those hands will someday be left in charge of the world.
Learn your lessons well.
I believe in you,
And so do others, though you may not know it.

Mrs. Barbie
Barbara Aldrich

The teacher sees what can be, what will be, if just nurtured a little bit, loved a little bit, encouraged a little bit.  I have been privileged to do just that with thousands of young people over the years.  I thank God every day for each of those opportunitiesThey have all left their print on my heart.

 Behold, children are a heritage from the LORD, the fruit of the womb a reward. Like arrows in the hand of a warrior are the children of one’s youth. Blessed is the man who fills his quiver with them! He shall not be put to shame when he speaks with his enemies in the gate.
Psalm 127:3-5

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