The World Was Hers For

Occasionally There Is A Moment In A Person's Life When He Takes A Great Stride Forward In Wisdom, Humility, Or Disillusionment. For A Split Second He Comes Into A Kind Of Cosmic Understanding. For A Trembling Breath Of Time He Knows All There Is To Know. He Is Loaned The Gift The Poet Yearned For - Seeing Himself As Others See Him.

Oh Time...time, Pass So That I Forget! Oh Time, Great Healer, Pass Over Me And Let Me Forget.

Mother, I Am Young. Mother, I Am Just Eighteen. I Am Strong. I Will Work Hard, Mother. But I Do Not Want This Child To Grow Up Just To Work Hard. What Must I Do, Mother, What Must I Do To Make A Different World For Her? How Do I Start?" "the Secret Lies In The Reading And The Writing. You Are Able To Read. Every Day You Must Read One Page From Some Good Book To Your Child. Every Day This Must Be Until The Child Learns To Read. Then She Must Read Every Day, I Know This Is The Secret

A Lie Was Something You Told Because You Were Mean Or A Coward. A Story Was Something You Made Up Out Of Something That Might Have Happened. Only You Didn't Tell It Like It Was, You Told It Like You Thought It Should Have Been.

She Was Surprised At How Tiny It Seemed Now. She Supposed The School Was Just As Big As It Had Ever Been Only Her Eyes Had Grown Used To Looking At Bigger Things.