"THESE THINGS I WISH FOR EACH OF YOU"

                 
          
By Paul Harvey
             

           We tried so hard to make things better
            for our kids that we made them worse.

            For my grandchildren,
            I'd like better.
            I'd really like for them to know about
            hand-me down clothes and homemade ice
            cream and leftover meatloaf sandwiches.
            I really would.

            My cherished grandson,
            I hope you learn humility by being humiliated,
            and that you learn honesty by being cheated.

            I hope you learn to make your bed
            and mow the lawn and wash the car.

            And I really hope nobody gives you a
            brand new car when you are sixteen.
            I hope you have a job by then.

            It will be good if at least one time you
            can see a baby calf born and your
            old dog put to sleep.

            I hope you get a black eye fighting
            for something you believe in.

            I hope you have to share a bedroom
            with your younger brother.
            And it's all right if you have to
            draw a line down the middle of the room,
            but when he wants to crawl under the
            covers with you because he's scared,
            I hope you let him.

            When you want to see a Disney movie
            and your little brother wants to tag along,
            I hope you'll let him.

            I hope you have to walk uphill to school
            with your friends and that you live
            in a town where it you can do it safely.

            On rainy days when you have to catch a ride
            I hope your driver doesn't have to drop
            you two blocks away so you won't be seen
            riding with someone as uncool as your mom.

            If you want a slingshot,
            I hope your dad teaches you how
            to make one instead of buying one.
            I hope you learn to dig in the dirt and read books.

            When you learn to use those newfangled computers,
            I hope you also learn to add
            and subtract in your head.

            I hope you get razzed by your friends
            when you have your first crush on a girl,
            and when you talk back to your mother
            that you learn what Ivory soap tastes like.

            May you skin your knee climbing a mountain,
            burn you hand on stove and stick
            your tongue on a frozen flagpole.

            I hope you get sick when someone
            blows cigar smoke in your face.

            I don't care if you try beer once,
            but I hope you don't like it.
            And if a friend offers you dope or a joint,
            I hope you realize he is not your friend.

            I sure hope you make time to sit on
            a porch with your grandpa
            and go fishing with your uncle.

            May you feel sorrow at a
            funeral and the joy of holidays.

            I hope your mother punishes you when
            you throw a baseball through a neighbor's
            window and that she hugs you
            and kisses you at Christmas time when
            you give her a plaster of Paris mold of your hand.

            These things I wish for you -
            tough times and disappointment,
            hard work and happiness.
MY OTHER SITES
"JESUS STOP"
"SITES TO SURF"
"FRIENDS POETRY PLACE"
JANE'S QUILTING