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I dreamed I stood in a studio

And watched two sculptors there

The clay used was a young child's mind

And they fashioned it with care

One was a teacher -the tools he used

Were books, music and art.

The other, a parent, worked with a guiding hand.

And a gentle, loving heart.

Day after day, the teacher toiled with touch

That was deft and sure.

While the parent laboured by his side

And polished and smoothed it o'er

And when at last their task was done.

They were proud of what they had wrought.

For the things they had moulded into the child

Could neither be sold nor bought

And each agreed they would have failed

If each had worked alone

For behind the teacher stood the school

And behind the parent the home

Author Unknown