God be in my head, and in my understanding.
God be in my eyes, and in my looking.
God be in my mouth, and in my speaking.
God be in my heart, and in my thinking.
God be in my end, and at my departing.
Book of Hours (1514), medieval book of prayer
Beatitudes For Children
Blessed is the child who has someone to believe in him
And who has high hopes for him.
Blessed is the child who has someone to whom he can carry his
Problems unafraid.
Blessed is the child whose home is a haven of happiness
And love.
Blessed is the child to whom life is a book of knowledge and
Who is privileged to turn the pages one by one.
Blessed is the child who is allowed to pursue his curiosity into
Every worthwhile field of endeavour.
Blessed is the child who has someone who understands that
Childhood grief’s are both real and bitter and call for
Understanding sympathy.
Blessed is the child who has learned freedom from selfishness
Through responsibility and co-operation.
Blessed is the child whose parents find time for him.
Anon.
’Twas the night before Jesus came and all through the house,
not a creature was praying, not one in the house.
Their Bibles were lain on the shelf without care,
in the hopes that Jesus would not come there.
The children were dressing to crawl into bed,
not once ever kneeling or bowing a head;
And mom in her rocker with baby on her lap,
was watching the late show while I took a nap;
When out of the East there arose such a clatter,
I sprang to my feet to see what was the matter;
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
threw open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The light of His face made me cover my head,
it was Jesus returning, just like He said.
And though I possessed worldly wisdom and wealth,
I cried when I saw him, in spite of myself.
In the book of life, which He held in His hand,
was written the name of every saved man.
He spoke not a word as He searched for my name,
when He said, “It’s not here!” my head hung in shame.
The people whose names had been written in love,
He gathered to take to His Father above.
With those who were ready He rose without a sound,
while all the rest He left standing around.
I fell to my knees, but it was too late:
I had waited too long and thus sealed my fate.
I stood and I cried as they rose out of sight.
Oh, if only I had been ready tonight.
In the words of this poem the meaning is clear,
the coming of Jesus is drawing near.
There’s only one life and when the last name is called,
we’ll find that the Bible was true after all.
Anon.
‘Be The Best’
If you can’t be a pine on the top of the hill,
Be a scrub in the valley, but be
The best little scrub by the side of the rill;
Be a bush if you can’t be a tree.
If you can’t be a bush, be a bit of grass,
And some highway happier make;
If you can’t be a muskie, then be a bass,
But be the liveliest bass in the lake!
We can’t all be captains, we’ve got to be crew,
There’s something for all of us here.
There’s big work to do and there’s lesser to do
And the task we must do is the near.
If you can’t be a highway, then just be a trail,
If you can’t be the sun, be a star;
It isn’t by size that you win or fail.
Be the best of whatever you are!
by Douglas Malloch
May God give you more than you can ever think or ask;
May He use you far beyond the boundary of your task.
May God lead you further than your vision can yet see;
May He mould you, day by day, more perfectly.
May God guide you and keep you in the way He sees best;
And may he bless you so that every life you touch is blessed.
Anon
When a task is once begun,
Leave it not until it’s done,
And be a matter great or small,
Do it well or not at all.
Not… “How did he die?” But… “How did he live?”
Not… “What did he gain?” But… “What did he give?”
These are the units to measure the worth
Of a man as a man, regardless of birth.
Not… “What was his station?” But… “Had he a heart?”
And “How did he play his God-given part?
Was he ever ready with a word of good cheer,
To bring back a smile, to banish a tear?”
Not… “What was his church?” Not … “What was his creed?”
But “Had he befriended those really in need?”
Not… “What did the sketch in the newspaper say?”
But “How many were sorry when he passed away?”
Anon.
There was once a very cautious man
Who never laughed or cried.
He never risked; he never lost,
He never won nor tried.
And when one day he passed away
His insurance was denied,
For since he never really lived,
They claimed he never died.
Anon
People are unreasonable, illogical and self-centred;
Love them anyway.
If you do good, people will accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives;
Do good anyway.
If you are successful, you will win false friends and true enemies;
Succeed anyway.
Honesty and frankness will make you vulnerable;
Be honest and frank anyway.
The good you do today will be forgotten about tomorrow;
Do good anyway.
The big people with big ideas can be shot down by the little people with
small minds;
Think big anyway.
People favour the underdogs but follow only the top dogs;
Fight for the underdogs anyway.
What you spend years building can be destroyed overnight;
Build anyway.
Give the world the best you have and you’ll get kicked in the teeth;
Give it the best you’ve got anyway! (Anon.)
‘On Silver Wings’
I have a premonition that soars on silver wings,
It is a dream of your accomplishment
Of many wondrous things,
I do not know beneath which sky
Or where you’ll challenge fate,
I only know it will be high,
And that one day,
You’ll be GREAT!
Anon
He who knows not, and knows not that he knows not,
Is a fool, shun him.
He who knows not, and knows that he knows not,
Is a child, teach him.
He who knows, and knows not that he knows,
Is asleep, wake him.
He who knows, and knows that he knows,
Is wise, follow him.
Anon
Take time to THINK… it is the source of power.
Take time to PLAY… it is the secret of perpetual youth.
Take time to READ… it is the fountain of wisdom.
Take time to PRAY… it is the greatest power on earth.
Take time to LOVE and BE LOVED… it is a God-given privilege.
Take time to BE FRIENDLY… it is the road to happiness.
Take time to LAUGH… it is the music of the soul.
Take time to WORK… it is the price of success.
Take time to DO CHARITY… it is the key to heaven.
“Children Learn What They Live”
If children live with criticism, they learn to condemn.
If children live with hostility, they learn to fight.
If children live with fear, they learn to be apprehensive.
If children live with pity, they learn to feel sorry for themselves.
If children live with ridicule, they learn to be shy.
If children live with jealousy, they learn what envy is.
If children live with shame, they learn to feel guilty.
If children live with tolerance, they learn to be patient.
If children live with encouragement, they learn to be confident.
If children live with praise, they learn to appreciate.
If children live with approval, they learn to like themselves.
If children live with acceptance, they learn to find love in the world.
If children live with recognition, they learn to have a goal.
If children live with sharing, they learn to be generous.
If children live with honesty and fairness, they learn what truth and justice are.
If children live with security, they learn to have faith in themselves and in those around them.
If children live with friendliness, they learn that the world is a nice place in which to live.
If children live with serenity, they learn to have peace of mind.
What are your children living?
– By Dorothy L. Nolte.
An enemy I had, whose face I stoutly
Strove to know,
For hard he dogged my steps unseen,
Wherever I did go.
My plans he balked, my aims he foiled,
He blocked my onward way.
When for some lofty goal I toiled,
He grimly told me, “Nay.”
One night I seized him and held him fast,
From him the veil did draw,
I looked upon his face at last and lo –
Myself I saw! (Anon.)
We shall do much in the years to come,
But what have we done today?
We shall give our gold in a princely sum,
But what did we give today?
We shall lift the heart and dry the tear,
We shall plant a hope in the place of fear,
We shall speak in words of love and cheer,
But what did we speak today?
We shall be so kind in the afterwhile,
But what have we been today?
We shall bring each lonely life a smile,
But what have we brought today?
We shall give to truth a grander birth,
And to steadfast faith a deeper worth,
We shall feed the hungering souls of earth,
But whom have we fed today?
We shall reap such joys in the by and by,
But what have we sown today?
We shall build up mansions in the sky,
But what have we built today?
’Tis sweet in idle dreams to bask,
But here and now do we do our task?
Yes, this is the thing our souls must ask,
“What have we done today?”
–Anon.
An unknown poet wrote:
‘Though the cover is worn and the pages are torn, and though places bear traces of tears.
Yet more precious than gold is this book worn and old, that can shatter and scatter my fears.
When I prayerfully look in this precious old book, as my eyes scan the pages I see;
Many tokens of love from the Father above, Who is nearest and dearest to me.
This old book is my guide, ‘tis a friend by my side, it will lighten and brighten my way.
And each promise I find soothes and gladdens my mind, as I read it and heed it today?’
‘The Face in the Glass’
When you get what you want in your struggle for self
And the world makes you a king for a day,
Just go to the mirror and look at yourself
And see what THAT face has to say.
For it isn’t your father or mother or spouse
Whose judgment upon you must pass,
The person whose verdict counts most in your life
Is the one staring back from the glass.
Some people might think you’re a straight shooting chum
And call you a great gal or guy,
But the face in the glass says you’re only a bum
If you can’t look it straight in the eye.
That’s the one you must please, never mind the rest,
That’s the one with you clear to the end.
And you know you have passed your most dangerous test
If the face in the glass is your friend.
You may fool the whole world down the pathway of years
And get pats on your back as you pass,
But your final reward will be heartache and tears
If you’ve cheated the face in the glass.
by Dale Wimbrow
I had walked life’s way with an easy tread,
Had followed where comfort and pleasures led,
Until one day in a quiet place
I met the Master face to face.
With station and rank and wealth for my goal,
Much thought for my body, but none for my soul,
I had entered to win in life’s mad race,
When I met the Master face to face.
I met Him, and knew Him and blushed to see
That His eyes full of sorrow, were fixed on me;
And I faltered and fell at His feet that day,
While my castles melted and vanished away.
Melted and vanished and in their place
Naught else did I see but the Masters face.
And I cried aloud, “Oh, make me meet
To follow the steps of Thy wounded feet.”
My thought is now for the souls of men,
I have lost my life to find it again,
E’er since one day in a quite place
I met the Master face to face.
Anon.
’Twas battered and scarred, and the auctioneer
Thought it scarcely worth his while
To waste much time on the old violin,
But held it up with a smile.
“What am I bidden, good folks,” he cried,
“Who will start the bidding for me?”
“A dollar, a dollar,” then, two! “Only two?”
“Two dollars, and who’ll make it three?”
“Three dollars, once; three dollars, twice;
Going for three…” But no,
From the room, far back, a grey-haired man
Came forward and picked up the bow;
Then, wiping the dust from the old violin,
And tightening the loose strings,
He played a melody pure and sweet,
As sweet as a carolling angel sings.
The music ceased, and the auctioneer,
With a voice that was quiet and low,
Said: “What am I bid for the old violin?”
And he held it up with the bow.
“A thousand dollars, and who’ll make it two?
Two thousand! And who’ll make it three?
Three thousand, once; three thousand, twice;
And going and gone,” said he.
The people cheered, but some of them cried,
“We do not quite understand
What changed it’s worth?” Swift came the reply:
“The touch of the Master’s hand.”
by Myra Brooks Welch
Lord, fill my mouth with all good stuff, and nudge me when I’ve said enough!
The Preacher’s Prayer
‘Will’
There is no chance, no destiny, no fate,
Can circumvent or hinder or control
The firm resolve of a determined soul.
Gifts count for nothing; will alone is great;
All things give way before it, soon or late.
What obstacle can stay the mighty force
Of the sea-seeking river in its course,
Or cause the ascending orb of day to wait?
Each wellborn soul must win what it deserves.
Let the fool prate of luck. The fortunate
Is he whose earnest purpose never swerves,
Whose slightest action or inaction serves
The one great aim. Why even Death stands still,
And waits an hour sometimes for such a will.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
If the request is wrong, God says, “No.”
If the timing is wrong. God says, “Slow.”
If you are wrong, God says, “Grow.”
But if the request is right, the timing is right,
and you are right, then God says, “Go!”
Anon
‘What is Success?’
To laugh often and much;
To win the respect of intelligent people
and the affection of children;
To earn the appreciation of honest critics
and endure the betrayal of false friends;
To appreciate beauty;
To find the best in others;
To leave this world a bit better,
whether by a healthy child, a garden
patch or a redeemed social condition;
To know even one life has breathed
easier because you have lived;
This is to have succeeded.
by Ralph Waldo Emerson
It is too late! Ah, nothing is too late
Till the tired heart shall cease to palpitate.
Cato learned Greek at eighty; Sophocles
Wrote his grand Oedipus, and Simonides
Bore off the prize of verse from his compeers,
When each had numbered more than fourscore years,
And Theophrastus, at fourscore and ten,
Had but begun his “Characters of Men.”
Chaucer, at Woodstock with the nightingales,
At sixty wrote the Canterbury Tales;
Goethe at Weimer, toiling to the last,
Completed Faust when he was eighty years past.
– Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, 1807-1882 (from Morituri Salutamus)
I’d rather be a Could-Be
If I cannot be an Are;
Because a Could-Be is a May-Be
Who might be reaching for a star.
I’d rather be a Has-Been
Than a Might-Have-Been by far,
For a Might-Have-Been has never been
But a Has was once an Are!
Milton Berle
Two frogs fell into a can of cream,
– or so I’ve heard it told.
The sides of the can were shiny and steep,
the cream was deep and cold.
“Oh, what’s the use?” said No. 1,
“’tis fate – no help’s around.
Good bye my friend! Good bye sad world!”
And weeping still he drowned.
But No. 2 of sterner stuff,
dog paddled in surprise.
The while he wiped his creamy face
and dried his creamy eyes.
“I’ll swim awhile, at least,” he said,
– or so it had been said.
“It wouldn’t really help the world,
if one more frog was dead.”
An hour or two he kicked and swam,
not once he stopped to mutter.
But kicked and swam, and swam and
kicked, then hopped out – via the butter.
Anon.
`
I lost a very little word
Just the other day,
It was a very naughty word
I had not meant to say.
But then, it was not really lost
When from my lips it flew,
My little daughter picked it up
And now she says it too.
Anon.
Am I True To Myself
I have to live with myself and so,
I want to be fit for myself to know,
I want to be able as days go by,
Always to look myself in the eye;
I don’t want to stand, with the setting sun,
And hate myself for the things I have done.
I don’t want to keep on a closet shelf,
A whole lot of secrets about myself,
And fool myself as I come and go,
Into thinking that nobody will know,
The kind of man that I really am;
I don’t want to dress myself in sham.
I want to go out with my head held erect,
I want to deserve all men’s respect;
But here in the struggle for fame and wealth,
I want to be able to like myself.
Whatever happens I want to be,
Self-respecting and conscious free.
by Edgar A. Guest
‘The Road Not Taken’
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveller, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And, both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I –
I took the one less travelled by,
And that has made all the difference.
by Robert Frost (1874-1963)
The Solitary Way
There is a mystery in human hearts,
And though we be encircled by a host
Of those who love us well and are beloved,
To every one of us, from time to time,
There comes a sense of utter loneliness.
Our dearest friend is “stranger” to our joy,
And cannot realise our bitterness.
“There is no one who really understands,
No one to enter into all I feel;”
Such is the cry of each one of us in turn
We wander in a “solitary way.”
No matter what or where our lot may be,
Each heart, mysterious even to itself,
Must live its inner life in solitude.
And would you know the reasons why this is?
It is because the Lord desires our love,
In every heart He wishes to be first,
He therefore keeps the secret key himself,
To open all chambers and to bless
With perfect sympathy and holy peace,
Each solitary soul which comes to Him.
And when beneath some heavy cross you faint,
And say, “I cannot bear this load alone,” you say the truth.
God made it purposely
So heavy that you must return to him,
The bitter grief, which “no one understands,”
Conveys a secret message from the King,
Entreating you to come to him again.
You cannot come too often or too near.
The God of Mercy is infinite in grace,
His presence satisfies the longing soul
And those who walk with Him from day to day
Can never have “a solitary way.”
Anon.
When a task is once begun,
Leave it not until it’s done,
And be a matter great or small,
Do it well or not at all.
Little drops of water and tiny grains of sand,
Make the mighty ocean and the pleasant land.
J. A. Fletcher
‘It Couldn’t Be Done’
Somebody said that it couldn’t be done,
But he with a chuckle replied,
That “maybe it couldn’t,” but he would be one
Who wouldn’t say so till he’d tried.
So he buckled right in with the trace of a grin
On his face, if he worried he hid it.
He started to sing as he tackled the thing
That couldn’t be done, and he did it.
Somebody scoffed: “Oh you’ll never do that;
At least no one has ever done it”;
But he took off his coat and he took off his hat,
And the first thing we knew he’d begun it.
With a lift of his chin and a bit of a grin,
Without any doubting or quiddit,
He started to sing as he tackled the thing
That couldn’t be done, and he did it.
There are thousands to tell you it cannot be done,
There are thousands to prophesy failure;
There are thousands to point out to you one by one,
The dangers that await to assail you.
But just buckle in with a bit of a grin,
Just take off your coat and go to it;
Just start to sing as you tackle the thing
That “cannot be done,” and you’ll do it.
Edgar A. Guest
No One Is Beat ’til He Quits
No one is beat ’til he quits,
No one is through ’til he stops,
No matter how failure hits,
No matter how often he drops.
A fellow’s not down ’til he lies
In the dust and refuses to rise.
Fate can slam him and bang him around,
And batter his frame ’til he’s sore,
But it never can say that he’s downed,
While he bobs up serenely for more.
A fellow’s not dead ’til he dies,
Nor beat ’til he no longer tries.
by Edgar A. Guest
Don’t let fear get a hold on you,
Instead, do the thing you fear to do.
If you’re lost and not sure which path to take,
Listen to your heart, the truth it won’t fake.
But you won’t find the courage by waiting around,
So get down off the fence and onto solid ground.
For in overcoming the fear you’ll look back and see,
That it wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be.
So don’t let fear get a hold on you,
Just do the thing you fear to do,
And next time fear raises its ugly head,
Jump straight into action and kill the fear, dead!
R. Ian Seymour
Success is being friendly when another needs a friend,
It’s in the cheery words you speak and in the coins you lend.
Success is not alone in skill and deeds of daring great,
It’s in the roses that you plant beside your garden gate.
Success is in the way you walk the paths of life each day,
It’s in the little things you do and in the things you say.
Success is in the glad hello you give your fellow man,
It’s in the laughter of your home and all the joys you plan.
Success is not getting rich or rising high to fame,
It’s not alone in winning goals, which all men hope to claim,
It’s in the person you are each day through happiness or care,
It’s in the happy words you speak and in the smile you wear.
Success is being big of heart and clean and broad of mind,
It’s being faithful to your friends and to the stranger, kind. (Anon)
‘SMILE’
Like a bread without the spread in,
Like a puddin’ without sauce,
Like a mattress without beddin’,
Like a cart without a horse,
Like a door without a latchstring,
Like a fence without a stile,
Like a dry an’ barren river bed,
Is the face without a smile.
Like a house without a door,
Like a garden without a flower,
Like a clock without a mainspring,
That will never tell the hour;
A thing that sort o’ makes you feel
A hunger all the while,
Oh, the saddest sight that ever was
Is a face without a smile!
The face of man was built for smiles,
An’ thereby he is blest
Above the critters of the field,
The birds an’ all the rest;
He’s just a little lower
Than the angels in the skies,
And the reason – is that he can smile;
Therein his glory lies!
So smile an’ don’t forget to smile,
An’ smile, an’ smile again,
’Twill help you all along the way,
An’ cheer you mile by mile;
An’ so, whatever is your lot,
Just smile, an’ smile. an’ smile. (Anon)
I keep six honest serving men
(They taught me all I knew);
Their names are What and Why and When
and How and Where and Who.
(from ‘The Elephant’s Child’ by Rudyard Kipling.)
‘A Red, Red Rose’
O, my luve’s like a red, red, rose
That’s newly sprung in June;
O, my luve’s like the melodie
That’s sweetly played in tune.
As fair thou art, my bonnie lass,
So deep in luve am I;
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
Till a’ the seas gang dry.
Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi’ the sun;
I will luve thee still, my dear,
While the sands o’ life shall run.
And fare-thee-weel, my only luve!
And fare-thee-weel, a while!
And I will come again, my luve,
Though it were ten thousand mile.
by Robert Burns
Games can’t be won
Unless they are played.
Prayers can’t be answered
Unless they are prayed.
Helen Steiner Rice
Better never trouble Trouble
Until Trouble troubles you;
For you only make your trouble
Double-trouble when you do.
David Keppel
Believe in yourself! You’re divinely designed,
And perfectly made for the work of mankind.
This truth you must cling to through danger and pain,
The heights man has reached you can also attain.
Believe to the very last hour, for it’s true,
That whatever you will, you’ve been gifted to do.
Believe in yourself and step out unafraid,
By misgivings and doubt be not easily swayed.
You’ve the right to succeed, the precision of skill
Which betokens the great, you can earn if you will!
The wisdom of ages is yours if you’ll read,
But you’ve got to believe in yourself to succeed.
Anon
‘SUCCESS’
If you want a thing bad enough
To go out and fight for it,
Work day and night for it,
Give up your time and your peace and your sleep for it;
If only the desire of it
Makes you quite mad enough
Never to tire of it,
Makes you hold all things tawdry and cheap for it;
If life seems all empty and useless without it
And all that you scheme and you dream is about it,
If gladly you’ll sweat for it,
Fret for it,
Plan for it,
Lose all your terror of God or man for it,
If you’ll simply go after the thing that you want,
With all your capacity,
Strength and sagacity,
Faith, hope and confidence, stern pertinacity,
If neither cold poverty, famished and gaunt,
Nor sickness nor pain
Of body or brain
Can turn you away from the thing that you want,
If dogged and grim you besiege and beset it,
… You’ll get it!
by Berton Braley
There was an old sailor my grandfather knew
Who had so many things which he wanted to do
That whenever he thought it was time to begin
He couldn’t because of the state he was in!
Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
Old time is still a-flying;
And this same flower that smiles today,
Tomorrow will be dying.
Robert Herrick (1591-1674), English poet
‘Prayer of an Unemployed Man’
Here in the quiet of my room,
I come to Thee for friendship; to feel
That Someone is with me, though unseen.
All day I have seen a multitude of people,
But I am still lonely and hungry for human cheer.
No life has touched mine in understanding;
No hand has clasped mine in friendship;
My heart is empty and my hands are idle.
Help me to feel Thy presence,
So that the disappointment of this day
Shall not overwhelm me.
Keep me from becoming cynical and bitter;
Keep me warm and human, and set a new faith
Before my eyes, and a new hope to live by
And a new spirit with which to overcome discouragements.
Guide me to that very necessary thing
Of life – WORK!
Abide with me and be my friend.
by W. C. Ackerly
The Lord is My Coach (based on Psalm 23)
1The Lord is my Coach;
I shall never be defeated.
2He trains me to run His way,
with purpose in every step.
3He conditions my mind and my body
to be pure for the sake of His glory.
4Yes, though I face tough competition,
I can run and not get tired; for You are with me.
Your Word and Your Spirit, they energize me.
5You prepare a strategy before me in the presence of my opponents;
You crown my head with victory;
My heart’s inspired!
6Surely confidence and victory will be with me all the days of my life.
And I shall look up to my Coach forever.
Teri Burton