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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.


” 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.”