Here's to the kids who are different
The kids they call crazy or dumb.
The kids who don't fit
With the guts and the grit
Who dance to a different drum.

Here's to the kids who are different
The kids with the mischievous streak,
For when they are grown,
As history's shown
It's their difference
that makes them unique.

THE CAT AND THE FOX
~Aesop Fable~


Once a Cat and a Fox were traveling together.
As they went along,
picking up provisions on the way --
a stray mouse here, a fat chicken there --
they began an argument to while
away the time between bites.
And, as usually happens when comrades argue,
the talk began to get personal.

"You think you are extremely clever, don't you?"
said the Fox. "Do you pretend to know more than I?
Why, I know a whole sackful of tricks!"

"Well," retorted the Cat,
"I admit I know one trick only,
but that one, let me tell you,
is worth a thousand of yours!"

Just then, close by,
they heard a hunter's horn
and the yelping of a pack of hounds.
In an instant the Cat was up a tree,
hiding among the leaves.

"This is my trick,"
he called to the Fox.
"Now let me see what yours are worth."

But the Fox had so many plans for escape
he could not decide which one to try first.
He dodged here and there
with the hounds at his heels.
He doubled on his tracks,
he ran at top speed,
he entered a dozen burrows,
but all in vain.
The hounds caught him,
and soon put an end
to the boaster and all his tricks.

The moral of the story is:
Common sense is always worth more than cunning.


My Shadow
~ by Robert Louis Stevenson~



I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me,
And what can be the use of him is more than I can see.
He is very, very like me from the heels up to the head;
And I see him jump before me, when I jump into my bed.

The funniest thing about him is the way he likes to grow --
not at all like proper children, which is always very slow;
For he sometimes shoots up taller like an india-rubber ball,
And he sometimes gets so little that there's none of him at all.

he hasn't got a notion of how children ought to play,
And can only make a fool of me in every sort of way.
He stays so close beside me, he's a coward you can see;
I'd think shame to stick to nursie as that shadow sticks to me!

One morning, very early, before the sun was up,
I rose and found the shining dew on every buttercup;
But my lazy little shadow, like an arrant sleepy-head,
Had stayed at home behind me and was fast asleep in bed.

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