Its a very fulfilling experience to watch our kids grow. Its a wonderful feeling inside to experience how they have become more and better as individuals. On her 8th year, my little Maxene can recite "A Psalm of Life" in her own innocent interpretation while the little sister, Hannah, recites Maxene's Grade 1 poem " God made everything". I guess my wish is coming into a reality. They are growing into strong women after the character of their mother. I always remind them of their rightful place in the world - to define themselves and to pursue their definition of purpose; to live their lives to the fullest according to their standards rather than the standard of the world. may my little ones find the intellectual and moral strength to pursue the words i have written in length in these pages. May they see the colors, the rainbow and the rain; and the adventure this life presents with all the irritations and comforts that comes with every journey.
Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream! —
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.
Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.
Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream! —
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.
Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.
Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each to-morrow
Find us farther than to-day.
Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.
In the world's broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle!
Be a hero in the strife!
Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act, — act in the living Present!
Heart within, and God o'erhead!
Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time;
Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life's solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.
Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.
I will always love my children as they are and as they will be. By choice and by fate, I will cherish them in every possible way. Most importantly, I will cherish and love their mother until life leaves me. I will persist in life and live it with enthusiasm and purpose. I owe it to my love ones to persist and fight until the end.
Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each to-morrow
Find us farther than to-day.
Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.
In the world's broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle!
Be a hero in the strife!
Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act, — act in the living Present!
Heart within, and God o'erhead!
Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time;
Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life's solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.
Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.
I will always love my children as they are and as they will be. By choice and by fate, I will cherish them in every possible way. Most importantly, I will cherish and love their mother until life leaves me. I will persist in life and live it with enthusiasm and purpose. I owe it to my love ones to persist and fight until the end.
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