And we care for those
who stare at photographers from behind barbed wire,
who can't bound down the street in a new pair of sneakers,
who never "counted potatoes",
who are born in places we wouldn't be caught dead,
who never go to the circus, who live in an X-rated world.

We care for children
who bring us sticky kisses and fistfuls of dandelions,
who hug us in a hurry and forget their lunch money,
who spend all their allowance before Tuesday,
who get visits from the tooth fairy,
who store dirty clothes under the bed and never rinse out the tub.

And we care for those
who never get dessert,
who have no safe blanket to drag behind them,
who watch their parents watch them die,
who can't find any bread to steal,
who don't have any rooms to clean up,
whose pictures aren't on anybody's dresser,
whose monsters are real.

We care for children
who throw tantrums in the grocery store and pick at their food,
who like ghost stories,
who don't like to be kissed in front of the carpool,
who squirm in church or temple, and scream into the phone,
whose tears we sometimes laugh at and whose smiles can make us cry.

And we care for those
whose nightmares come in the daytime,
who will eat anything,
who have never seen a dentist,
who aren't spoiled by anybody,
who live and move, but have no being.

We care for the children
who want to be carried, and for those who must,
for those who never give up and for those who don't get a second chance,
for those we smother with good intentions,
and for those who will grab the hand of anybody kind enough to offer it.

And because we care, we take responsibility for the education and care of all young children.

Adapted from a poem by Ina J. Hughes