We cannot know where we are headed, only whence we have come.  It behooves us, then, to help those coming along behind us.

*  *  *  *  *

we’re never so tall

as when we bend down to help

a child who needs us

*  *  *  *  *

the child is father

of the man, as wordsworth wrote—

so nurture the child

*  *  *  *  *

to free your children,

hug them close, then let them go—

they’ll e’er be with you

*  *  *  *  *

those wee girls we raised—

grown now, married, mothers both—

never left our hearts

*  *  *  *  *

grandchildren, our hope

for the future—as we were

once upon a time

*  *  *  *  *