Blessed are the parents who make their peace with spilled milk and with mud
Blessed are the fathers and mothers who have learned laughter; for it is the music of the child’s world.
Blessed and wise are those parents who understand the goodness of time; for they make not a sword that kills growth, but a shield to protect.
Blessed and mature are they who without anger can say no; for comforting to the child is the security of firm decisions.
Blessed is the gift of consistency; for it is heartsease in childhood.
Blessed are they who accept the awkwardness of growth; for they are aware of the constant perilous choice between marred furnishings and damaged personalities.
Blessed are the teachable; for knowledge brings understanding and understanding brings love.
Blessed are the men and women who, in the midst of the unpromising mundane, give love; for they bestow the greatest of all gifts to each other, to their children, and— in an ever-widening circle— to their fellowmen.
— Marion Kinneman
Painting: "WHEN WINTER COMES" BY JOHN WALTER, 1967