“Now say it over again with me: “Two plus two is four.””
We’ll say it over a thousand times, then say it even more.
Day after day I teach this lad, who is so very slow.
I teach him how to tie his shoes and where the buttons go.
I’m told, ‘You cannot teach this child; it is a waste of time.
Just give him a chair, away over there—forget him; he’ll be just fine.”
But can I leave him locked inside, not knowing how to cope?
He needs someone to teach him—some love, some worth, some hope.
I want to help him all I can, though it is hard and slow.
So, “Fellow, let’s get started. We have a ways to go.”
The first thing I must do, to teach this little lad,
Is turn him ‘round and make him know he’s not entirely bad.
Then next comes math and reading; he’ll learn to write and spell.
He’ll learn to laugh and live in tune, in many things do well.
With hours and hours of struggle, the years will slowly pass.
He will be glad and so will I, for he has learned at last.
He’ll be a man and earn a living, though some may call him dumb.
No one may know, or even care, how far this boy has come.
You say, “Why do you do it? There’s no reward.” But see?
Each little child I look upon, I’m really seeing me.
I had a Master Teacher, looking down in love on me;
He led me through dark valleys and set my spirit free.
Oh, God, You take each one of us—the deaf, the lame, the blind;
You teach us, patiently, to live more lovingly and kind.
If You cared just enough for us our pain and hurt to see,
But left us way off over there, just where would our lives be?
—Author unknown
