The things I learned as a boy are of remarkable value to me, because they have touched my thinking for all of these years.
Two of the poems I memorized as a boy are as follows:
To every man there openeth a highway and a low. And every man decideth which way his soul shall go. The high man climbs the highway, and the low man gropes the low. And in between on the misty flats, the rest drift to-and-fro. But, to every man there openeth a highway and a low. Every man decideth which way his soul shall go.
Isn’t it strange that princes and kings, and clowns that caper in sawdust rings, And just plain folks like you and me are builders for eternity. To each is given a bag of tools, a shapeless mass, and a book of rules, And each must build ere life has flown, a stumbling block or a stepping stone.
What special memories do you have about the things people in the family have said that give you hope and make our connection even stronger?