Whose Child Is This?

In honor of the last day if school, I'd like to share a poem Kendall's teacher sent home with her this week.
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Whose Child Is This?

Author Unknown

"Whose child is this?" I asked one day

Seeing a little one out to play.

"Mine," said the parent with a tender smile.

"Mine to keep a little while,

To bathe his hands and comb his hair,

To tell him what he is to wear,

To prepare him that he may always be good

And each day to do the things he should."

"Whose child is this?" I asked again

As the door opened and someone came in.

"Mine," said the teacher with the same tender smile.

"Mine to keep just for a little while,

To teach him how to be gentle and kind,

To train and direct his dear little mind,

To help him live by every rule

And get the best he can from school."

"Whose child is this?" I asked once more

Just as the little one entered the door.

"Ours," said the parent and teacher as they smiled

And each took the hand of the little child.

"Ours to love and train together.

Ours, this blessed task, forever."