THE TEACHER'S CONSOLATION was written by my Great Grandmother, Hettie Justice Wham during the late 1930's. She was born in Iuka Ill. in 1871. Many of her poems were about her life experiences,her deep love of God and his creations and the simple life during that year in time. I just got to know her by her words and now I hope you enjoy them too.
THE TEACHER'S CONSOLATION
For many years I've labored hard in training youthful minds,
And every thing to helped them on, I've tried so hard to find.
Some youthful minds are fickle and it takes a lot of tact,
To keep them climbing upward in every thought and act.
But often I have found the key that would unlock the vault,
To hearts that others failed to reach although 'twas not their fault.
I've found all kinds of characters while dealing with the youth,
Some seem to be so false at heart, while others love the truth.
I've tried to reach the inner man and teach them self control,
And tried to help them to become a good and honest soul.
Perhaps this work of training youth is just a work of art,
But surely it's a work of trust, God plants it in the heart.
I love the children in my care, their future I hold dear,
Each precious one I take to Him, in prayer and do not fear.
For when I've done my best then I trust the rest to God,
I know He hears and answers prayer and guides the path they trod.
And when at last the roll is called up yonder and I meet,
Many pupils I have taught, up on the golden street.
I'll shout for joy I'll be so glad, when their faces I behold,
Because I helped them on their way to reach the gates of gold.
Tags: Teacher, Love
My grandmother loved this poem and would recite it often. Even when she turned 100 years old, she could remember the words.I hope you enjoy it as much as she did! Sorry , it doesn't have an author or a title but I think it was written by my great grandmother.
"When I was young and my slippers were red,
I could kick my feet clear over my head.
When I grew older and my slippers were blue,
Still I could dance the whole night through.
Now I am old and my slippers are black,
I walk to the corner and puff my way back.
The reason I know my youth has been spent,
My get up and go has got up and went.
But really I don't mind when I think with a grin
Of all the grand places my get up has been.
Since I have retired from life's competition,
I find every day an exact repetition.
I get up each morning, dust off my wits,
Pick up my paper and read the obit's
If my name is missing, I know I'm not dead
So I eat a big breakfast and go back to bed."
Tags: colored slippers, getting old
