A BAG OF TOOLS

Isn’t it strange

That princes and kings,

And clowns that caper

In sawdust rings,

And common people

Like you and me

Are builders for eternity.

 

Each is given a bag of tools,

A shapeless mass,

A book of rules;

And each must make—

Ere life is flown—

A stumbling block

Or a stepping stone.

R.L. SHARPE

” In college, as I reflected back on my life at that time, I became aware that who I had become was a result of everything I had touched, everything I had read, and the people who I had connected to. My life was a building, and each stone played a part in whether I had a good foundation or not. Some stones crumbled under the weight of obstacles but most stones were strong and made of good material.

As the years passed, I also became aware I was given certain skills, abilities, and it was up to me to continue to shape my life in such a way that I would become a good, strong corner-stone for others in the process of them building their lives. As a parent, as a teacher, as a therapist, it clarified for me my real purpose in living. The above poem, A BAG OF TOOLS, reflects the insight I had.”

Yu/Stan/Kema