Selected poems, stories, anectodes, quotes and thoughts on the subject of children and parents, ranging from heart-warming to thought provoking to downright funny!

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She could not paint, nor write, nor rhyme
Her footprints on the sand of time,
As some distinguished women do;
Just simple things of life she knew--
Like tucking little folks in bed,
Or soothing someone's aching head.

She was no singer, neither blessed
With any special loveliness
To win applause and passing fame;
No headlines ever blazed her name.
But, oh, she was a shining light
to all her loved ones, day and night!

Her home was kingdom, she its queen;
Her reign was faithful, honest, clean,
Impartial, loving, just, to each
And every one she sought to teach.
Her name? Of course, there is no other
In all the world so sweet--just Mother!
--May Allread Baker

 Years ago, a young mother was making her way across the hills of South Wales, carrying her tiny babe in her arms, when she was overtaken by a blinding blizzard. She never reached her destination alive, and when the blizzard had subsided her body was found beneath the snow. But the searchers discovered that before her death she had taken off all her outer clothing and wrapped it about her baby.
And when they unwrapped the child, to their great surprise and joy, they found he was alive and well. She had given her life for her child, proving the depth of her mother love. Years later the child, David Lloyd George, grown to manhood, and without doubt one of England's greatest statesmen.
Psychologists tell us that it is detrimental to be an orphan; a disadvantage to be the only child; crushing to be the middle child; & taxing to be the oldest child. Obviously, the only way out of the dilemma is to be born an adult!

Somehow a fellow can't express
The feelings he has had
While through the years he's walked and talked
And laughed and played with Dad.
He cannot put in words the love--
The pride that wells within,
The admiration in his heart,
Whene'er Dad looks at him.
Dad is the hero of his dreams,
The king upon the throne,
The pattern for that ideal life
Which he would make his own.
He knows that Dad well understands
The conflicts in his breast,
And shared the problems he must face,
Though often unexpressed.
How could a fellow go astray,
Who with his Dad has stood
Within the secret place of prayer
Before a holy God?
And this my constant prayer shall be,
That until life is done,
My conduct here shall honor him,
Who proudly calls me "Son."
--Alvis B. Christiansen

A boy once asked, "Dad, how do wars begin?" "Well, take the First World War," said his father. "That got started when Germany invaded Belgium." Immediately his wife interrupted him. "Tell the boy the truth. It began because somebody was murdered." The husband drew himself up with an air of superiority and snapped back, "Are you answering the question or am I?"
Turning her back upon him in a huff, the wife walked out of the room and slammed the door as hard as she could. When the dishes stopped rattling in the cupboard, an uneasy silence followed, broken at length by the son. "Daddy, you don't have to tell me how wars begin; I know now!"

On an occasion when the teacher let the children "draw" the Bible story they had heard, one little boy drew the picture of an airplane with a pilot in the front seat. The passengers were a man, woman and baby. When asked to tell about his picture, he said, "This is Pontius the pilot taking Mary and Joseph and Baby Jesus on a flight out of Egypt."
The teacher was trying to impress on the children how important had been the discovery of the law of gravitation. "Sir Isaac Newton was sitting on the ground, looking at the tree," she said, "an apple fell on his head, and from that he discovered gravitation. Just think, children," she added enthusiastically, "isn't that wonderful?"
The inevitable small boy replied, "Yes, an' if he had been settin' in school lookin' at his books, he wouldn't never have discovered nothin'!"

Mary had a little cold, but wouldn't stay at home,
And everywhere that Mary went, the cold was sure to roam.
It wandered into Molly's eyes and filled them full of tears;
It jumped from there to Bobby's nose, and thence to Jimmie's ears.
It painted Anna's throat bright red, and swelled poor Jennie's head.
Dora had a fever, and a cough put Jack to bed.
The moral of this little tale is very quickly said-
Mary could have saved great pain with just one day in bed!
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