Nurturing Our Spirited Children
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voices of inspiration & understanding....

These wonderful pieces were written by parents of spirited children and occasionally by someone more 'famous' who's words speak truth and understanding.  Hear their voices reach across the world to touch our hearts.

If you would like to submit original poetry, a story, or any other form of creative writing about your parenting journey, please email it to me.

Authors retain full rights and priviledges for their work. All work published is with the author's permission, unless it is within the public domain.

"Far better it is to dare mighty things
To win glorious triumphs
Even though checkered by failures
Than it is to take rank with those poor spirits
Who neigher enjoy much nor suffer much
Because they live in the grey twilight
That knows not victory nor defeat."

I think Theodore Rosevelt said this. I had it hanging in my office for years and now it's hanging in my 7 year old son's room. Sometimes when I'm sitting crying because I just don't know what else to do, I read it and I know that my son will do great things with his life because he has a wonderful spirit. I was never really sure why this quote appealed to me all these years, now I know.
    - A.S.

"Sleepless In Oregon"

He cries at midnight and 2am, also 4 and 6.
I've tried everything that I know, and every experts so-called fix.
Nothings helps him sleep at night and seldom during the day.
'Don't worry, he'll out grow this', is what they always say.
My patience thin and temper short, but I always stay in check.
He doesn't know the plight I bear or even gives a heck.
The circles under my eyes are dark but I always give a smile.
When I soothe his cries and allay his fears as I rock him for a while.
Softly I whisper into his ear, "I love you baby boy".
As even through the sleepless nights he gives my life such joy.
Restful, cryless, quiet nights seem just not meant to be.
All I can do is wait it out and maybe sleep when he turns 3.
    - Annette Cogliati, 2002

3 p.m.

in the living room
spews forth a flow
of hot emotion
and I wonder
who stole my cherub
and substituted shrieking Oskar
banging his tin drum
piercing glass and my soul
with his cries
I fight the currents of
his frustration and my
wish to rescue him
from himself
and in the end I
for the cessation
to pick up the

3 a.m.

You nuzzle me awake
I lift the covers
and you crawl under
settle on my shoulder
tuck your head under mine
I breathe in your wonderful scent
and before I succumb again
to Morpheus' spell
think how I will love you
all rights reserved
© copyright H.E. April 21, 2000

Life is so generous a giver, but we, judging its gifts
by their covering, cast them away as ugly or heavy, or
hard. Remove the covering, and you will find beneath
it a living splendor, woven of love, by wisdom, with
power. Welcome it, grasp it, and you touch the angel's
hand that brings it to you. Everything we call a
trial, a sorrow or a duty, believe me, that an angel's
hand is there; the gift is there, and the wonder of an
overshadowing presence. Our joys too: be not content
with them as joys. They too conceal diviner gifts.
And so, at this time, I greet you.
Not quite as the world sends greetings, but with
profound esteem and with the prayer that for you now
and forever, the day breaks and the shadows flee.

    -Fra. Giovanni, A.D. 1513

Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their ouls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
   which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams
You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children
   as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the
   infinite, and He bends you with his might that
   his arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the Archer's hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies, so He
   loves also the bow that is stable.

    -The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran

When tears of frustration flow I always find this poem comforting.

Take a moment to listen today
To what your children are trying to say
Listen today, whatever you do
Or they won't be there to listen to you.

Listen to their problems, listen to their needs
Praise their smallest triumphs, praise their smallest deeds
Tolerate their chatter, amplify their laughter
Find out whats the matter, find out what they're after.

Tell them that you love them, every single night
And though you scold them, be sure to hold them
Tell them "everythings alright
Tomorrows looking bright."

Take a moment to listen today
To what your children are trying to say
Listen today, whatever you do
And they will come back to listen to you.

~ Author Unknown

I really hope someone else finds this as comforting as I do. Of course there are always those days when no matter what you read or no matter how many people keep telling you you are doing a wonderful job just keep going, regardless of all this, you just want to crawl under a rock and stay there until they close their eyes and drift into a deep sleep, so you can emerge with the confidence that tomorrow is another fresh day.