I give you love as I might offer you a piece of cake, enough, perhaps, to entice your taste and encourage your appetite, but not sufficient to nourish your needs.
The miracle is not that you grow with my love. The miracle is that you seem to survive my mistakes….
I teach you words, that you might express new and adventurous thoughts of your own.
I teach you to read to enlighten your mind, knowing that knowledge will lead you to unexplored corridors over which I have no control….
I must also prepare you for realities. I must offer you both…the way the world should be and the way it is…
Take my hand, my child, and we will explore the land. I will tell you all that I know, and you will show me the secrets of your heart. It may not be a fair exchange, but it is all I have to give.
I shall lead you only for this short while…how can I find appropriate words that can say only the right things? How can I find proper answers to answer the question you ask? How can I teach you when I, myself, am in need of guidance? How can I be a teacher when much of me is still a child?
Excerpts from “I’ll Show You the Morning Sun” by David Melton