Wednesday, April 15, 2009

My Harvest

I did not plant you, true.
But when the season is done,
When the alternative prayers for sun
and for rain are counted,
When the pain of weeding
And the pride of watching are through,
Then I will hold you high,
A shining sheaf above the thousand seeds grown wild.
Not my planting,
But, by heaven,
My harvest–
My child.

Carol Lynn Pearson






8 comments:

SuperDave said...

The hardest part of parenting, is that you are never through. I still pray for sun and rain, I still feel there is weeding, I still take great pride in watching you grow. But I have always held you up, in my heart. I love my children. Psalm 127:5

Anonymous said...

1. That poem is adorable!!!
2. I can see all three girls being beautiful models!
3. SuperDave's/Dad's comment s brought tears to my eyes!

What a terrific family!!!

Love :)

Amanda P said...

I love this poem, it reminds me of a favorite verse...


Galatians 6:9

Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.

Jenny said...

Love. All round.

Kismet said...

Oh how I love the feeling of that poem...for adopted or bio children. Super's comment exactly mirrors my own feelings. He said it well.

~K!

Molly W. said...

GREAT picture of your beautiful girls.

angelagarretson said...

What a special poem. It's also a nice reminder to set up those trellis's to help guide your seedling on the narrow path.

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