I am the child,

All the world waits for my coming,
All the earth watches with interest to see what I shall become.

Civilization hangs in the balance,
For what I am, the world of tomorrow will be.

I am the child,

I have come into your world,
About which I know nothing,

Why I came I know not;
How I came I know not;

I am curious;
I am interested.

I am the child,

You hold in your hand my destiny,
You determine, largely, whether I shall succeed or fail.

Give me, I pray you,
Those things that make for happiness.

Train me, I beg you,
That I may be a blessing to the world.

~~ Author Unknown ~~

"Daddy, how much do you make an hour?" With a timid voice and idolizing eyes, the little boy greeted his father as he returned from work.

Greatly surprised, but giving his boy a glaring look, the father said: "Look, sonny, not even your mother knows that. Don't bother me now, I'm tired."

"But, Daddy, just tell me please! How much do you make an hour?" the boy insisted.

The father, finally giving up, replied: "Twenty dollars per hour."

"Okay, Daddy. Could you loan me ten dollars?" the boy asked. Showing his restlessness and positively disturbed, the father yelled: "So that was the reason you asked how much I earn, right? Go to sleep and don't bother me anymore!"

It was already dark and the father was meditating on what he said and was feeling guilty. Maybe, he thought, his son wanted to buy something.

Finally, trying to ease his mind, the father went to his son's room. "Are you asleep, son?" asked the father.

"No, Daddy. Why?" replied the boy, partially asleep.

"Here's the money asked for earlier," the father said.

"Thanks, Daddy!" rejoiced the son, while putting his hand under his pillow and removing some money. "Now I have enough! Now I have twenty dollars!" the boy said to his father, who was gazing at his son, confused at what his son had just said. "Daddy, could you sell me one hour of your time?"

~~ Author Unknown ~~

Sometimes you get discouraged,
because I am so small

And leave my little fingerprints
On furniture and walls.

But everyday I'm growing
And soon will be so tall

That all these little fingerprints
Will be difficult to recall.

So here's a little handprint
That you can put away

So you will know how my fingers looked
On this special day.

~~ Author Unknown ~~

Values: Mother and Child

A Family of Poems:
My Favorite Poetry for Children by Caroline Kennedy

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Poems about Children