“Our Children”

I thought you might like to hear from my husband/wonderful father to our children…

A very close friend and his wife recently welcomed their first baby into the world. I had told him “that will be the greatest day in your life”. As he was swaddling his newborn, he mentioned that taking care of his new daughter was “a lot of work and could not believe I did this three times”. I have been fortunate to have three “best days”. I told him to get ready…at 1 month…that’s the easy part.

I remember the birth of all three of our children. The love, joy, and hope…I hid the fear and concern that I had. Our goal as parents was, and still is, to provide and nurture our babies…to help guide them as they grow, protect them, and give them strong foundations to be successful caring adults.

Each of our children are very different. They have their own strengths and “opportunities”. The success of how I (and my wife) parent each of them is to be determined. But despite the failures we may feel, we will never give up doing everything we can.

A Christmas tradition in my family, along with reading the “Christmas Story”, is to read “On Children” by Kahil Gilbran, from his book “The Prophet”. My grandmother would read it, and despite its wonderful message and the joy of Christmas, we would all be in tears by the end. (My mom reads it today…with the same result.)  I believe it is a great summation of our role/job as parents. I hope I am stable…

From The Prophet, a poem titled “Our Children” by Kahlil Gibran, 1923

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 bow that is

stable.