WebMDave

And a woman who held a babe against her bosom said, Speak to us of Children. And he said: Your children are not your children. They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself. They come through you but not from you, And though they are with you yet they belong not to you. You may give them your love but not your thoughts, For they have their own thoughts. You may house their bodies but not their souls, For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams. You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you. For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday. You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth. The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far. Let your bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness; For even as He loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the...

"Hey Tom, do you hear that?” The music of sleigh bells was unmistakable. “Come on Tom, come over here.” Tom jumped up on my bed and the two of us scanned the scene outside our window desperately trying to focus on what was making that marvelous sound. It was Christmas Eve and those rhythmic bells could be credited to nothing else but Saint Nick’s mythical reindeer. My brother was still a believer and though I was enlightened, I was not about to blow his Christmas. When I was in Kindergarten, one of the kids told me there was no such thing as Santa Claus. He claimed it was only your Dad and Mom who bought you presents and then hid them until you went to sleep on Christmas Eve. With a superior air, I tried to explain to my sneering peer that the night before Christmas my mom always set out cookies and milk for Santa, and in the morning, the plate was always clean except for some telltale crumbs and the glass was always empty. In my mind, this alone was irrefutable proof Santa had r...