I watched my little boy go down the front steps yesterday, as I have done for months now, and I silently prayed for him, which I have also done since the day he started school. I directed my prayers to a sometimes harsh and sometimes very wonderful world. I prayed that the world would treat him gently. You see until the time he started school, he was our little boy. He was the boss of the backyard. His mother had always been around to repair his wounds and I have always been around to sooth his feelings. But now - - things are different. Every day, when he goes down those steps, waving his hand, he starts out on a new adventure, and I can't help but wonder and worry about that adventure and pray that I have equipped him well to face it. It is an adventure that will include wars, and tragedy and sorrow. To live his life well in this world, he will require faith and love and courage. So, world, I wish you would sort of take him by his young hand and teach him the things he will have to know.
Teach him, but gently if you can. He will have to learn, I know, that all men are not true. But teach him also that for every scoundrel there is a hero; that for every selfish politician, there is a dedicated leader. Teach him that for every enemy, there is a friend. It will take time, world, I know, but teach him, if you can, that a nickel earned is of far more value than a dollar found. Teach him to learn to lose, and to enjoy the winning. Steer him away from envy if you can, and teach him the secret of quiet laughter. Let him learn early that the bullies are the easiest people to lick. Teach him the wonder of books. But also give him quiet time ponder the eternal mystery of birds in the sky, bees in the sun, and flowers on a green hillside.
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