An Easter Poem

No nails that tore into His flesh, nor spear that pierced His wounded side could stop the love our Lord did show as he gave His life in sacrifice. He died that we might be forgiven of earthly weakness and human sins; That eternal life would be His gift – that through His death we all might live. Yet ‘t is not a time of sadness but of joy, our Lord arose, that we might all rejoice. He showed that death can have no hold if our faith holds strong, in our Father’s love. So, celebrate we now that Christ is risen, and that He lives within our hearts. Celebrate we this greatest gift and into the world, his love impart.

A Poem For Christmas

We remember the birth of a babe this day, born in a stable, his bed filled with hay, heralded by angels and searched for by kings but whose life would be full of much simpler things. His mother, Mary, a woman of faith and trust, His father, Joseph, a carpenter, honest and just – for although nigh to Mary he had not been God told him to take her to wife, in a dream. And so they were wed and began their life, Joseph – the carpenter – and Mary, his wife. And came the time close when her confinement would be and out of Judaea there came a decree. A census was ordered, taxation was due, families must, to the towns, of their births, return to, and so to unto Bethlehem Joseph did start, with Mary, a donkey, and his own heavy heart. The town was so full with those who had returned refreshment flowed heavy and the lighted lamps burned, yet despite diligent searching, Joseph found not a bed for Mary, his wife, and his heart filled with dread. A lowly innkeeper took pity on the pair although he had no room that they might share, but showing a stable said it was all that he had and for that they were thankful and exceedingly glad. And that night was the night our Lord was born, under twinkling stars before the dawn, in a lowly stable in Bethlehem he came to save the world of men. In fields, the shepherds a vision saw, angels sent them to see the babe in straw, and three kings travelled from far away, to worship their new born king that day. And from that first Christmas, stemmed love divine a love so pure to last all time, for God’s only son was born you see To die for the sins of you and me. God’s greatest gift, his only son, as seers had foretold, to this world did come. and so we remember the birth of a babe this day born in a stable, his bed filled with hay, heralded by angels and searched for by kings but whose life would be full of much simpler things.

Shuffle, Duffle, Muzzle, Muff! What Are On The Kids Bookshelf Pop?

The Grinch and other Tales

Children love stories and are always eager for the next tale. They are always awe struck with the Grinch stories – How the Grinch Stole Christmas, The Grinch Grinches the Cat in the Hat and Halloween is Grinch Night and other classics from Theodor Seuss Geisel aka Dr. Seuss. So be sure you have these on the kids bookshelf.

There’s a story for every occasion and you can read a story fit into the day’s events – grouchy kids at breakfast? Tell them about Green Eggs and Ham; after a day at the beach you can cap the day with One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue Fish – all from Dr. Seuss.

Start your kids off with the Grinch and sail smoothly to Harry Potter. As the kids grow older, they’ll want to read books on their own. By stuffing the kids bookshelf with colorful animal books and you won’t go wrong with The Big Red Barn, Your Mama is a Llama?, Jesse Bear What will You Wear?, and lots more.

Classics to Futuristic

Start your toddlers with childhood picture books and the concept books of the alphabet or counting and segue into traditional literature – myths, ballads, fables, fairy tales, and legends. Read them fun poems as you go along and when the toddlers become bigger children, they’ll shift their interest to fiction and futuristic books, read Star Wars. Better have a well-stocked kids bookshelf.

Not all classics fitted for children work well, read. But you can’t have them clueless about the Three Little Bears, Jack and the Beanstalk, and Cinderella. As you read along from the books on the kids bookshelf, your toddlers will learn which board book or picture book they would demand you to read for them.

They’ll point out the books for the bedtime story and as they grow older until they are twelve they’ll be reading Huckleberry Finn, Tom Sawyer, Gulliver’s Travels and Lorna Doone or Little Lord Fauntleroy.

As years pass, they’ll be avid fans of super heroes – Aquaman and Zatana. Don’t forget to share your enthusiasm for Batman and Superman and the Star Wars crew with them. Take them to the movies for some adrenalin-pumping action and you’ll be surprised at their sophistication when it comes to book and comics heroes. Thanks to the collection on the kids bookshelf and the movies.

Should You Introduce Shakespeare?

Any kid will have to confront Shakespeare in school. It would be smart to get them on Shakespeare – the easier read of course such as the Stories from Shakespeare by Geraldine McCaughrean.

When the time comes, your Shakespeare savvy child has an idea of Romeo and Juliet, The Merchant of Venice, Othello, Macbeth, and The Midsummer Night’s Dream. The paperback edition would be a nice addition to kids bookshelf even if your child is already eleven years old.

As the years fly, you will marvel at the extent and variety of your child’s collection and his or her stash of knowledge and vocabulary. So now what’s on the bookshelf Pop?

Exploring The Benefits Of Nursery Rhymes

Nursery rhymes are musical melodies for young children. Everyone grew up with a set of rhymes like ‘Humpty-Dumpty Sat on a Wall’, ‘Jack-n-Jill Went up the Hill’, ‘Twinkle-Twinkle Little Star’, and ‘Johny Johny Yes Papa’. All these and many more have a deep influence on the life of a human as these invoke different set of feelings and attitude in different personalities. Listening to these children grow up and form their own beliefs and dreams based on their understanding.

The origin of nursery rhymes is glorious as it reflects certain known events or real life experiences from history. Every rhyme has its own distinctive origin and meaning; even the influence on a child’s development is unique in its own way. In common there are many benefits of nursery rhymes in a child’s life. Someway or the other it puts an impact on the physical, social, moral, emotional, and spiritual development of a child.

Here are some of the most significant advantages of nursery rhymes:

• Teaching rhymes helps children learn to communicate properly with the correct pronunciation and speech.
• These invoke children to express their feelings in a better way through different gestures and facial expressions.
• These help children love music and develop their senses to appreciate different forms of music.
• Rhythm is an important component of nursery rhymes that help a great deal in the development of memory and auditory skills.
• Soft words and soothing tune captivates toddler’s attention that helps expand their imaginations.
• These help to easily register every word and rhythm in the child’s unadulterated brain.
• Listening is an important skill that makes them smarter and understanding in the long run.
• Through the poems and verses children can paint imaginary pictures that help to activate awareness.
• Children have a better understanding of humor through these rhymes.
• Different rhymes have different concept that offer different opportunities to develop vocabulary based on the concepts.
• Also helps a great deal in developing children’s motor skills and co-ordination.
• These verses can be beautifully transformed to skill-developing games for better learning.
• These rhymes are an integral part of cultural heritage and hence are used to inculcate values and traditional beliefs within children.
• Last but not the least; it is the best source of entertainment for toddlers.

By: Jennie Gandhi

Why Every Day Should Be Valentine’s Day!

Why every day should be Valentine’s Day! Because it is love that makes the world go round not money! You are here today because of love and not money! Think for a moment, take away love and you will find the world will be an empty shell lacking meaning and passion! The world has suffered great destruction because of power, ignorance and greed, and the antidote is love and wisdom!

What love means to you? Love means different things to different people but there are a lot of things about love that people can agree.

I’ve written a love poem over 20 years ago and I will like to share with everyone on this Valentine’s Day, please feel free to share it with your loved ones and friends. I have composed it into a song, anyone out there who is a musician and want to partner with me to promote this song? It could hit the charts and inspire millions of people!


Love is happiness in being together. Love is wanting to share. Love is accepting each other. Love is thinking of you no matter where.

Loving is giving and receiving. Loving is trusting and believing. Loving is forgiving and rewarding. Loving is feeling and caring.

Love countless ways like millions of pebbles on the shore. Love is beautiful like stars in the skies. Love is all these to me and more. Love you can see in my eyes.

Hope you enjoy this poem and share it with your loved ones and take time to express your love and say those three important words: “I love you”

When was the last time you told your loved ones, “I love you” and when was the last time you gave them a good loving hug? We tend to love too little and too late, the time to love is now!

I’ve travelled a lot and I realised that people are basically the same, they all want happiness and they all want to be loved! There are many ways you can show your love, a kind word, a warm smile and a helping hand.

We should also learn how to live in peace and love our fellowmen. Wars are shameful failures of leaders who are not able to lead their people to peaceful settlements and hundreds of billions of dollars are wasted on bombs and weapons when these billions of dollars could be used to help to feed the hungry and poor, and save innocent children from the horrors of child labour and child prostitution!

Where’s the love? How can we let innocent children die of hunger and being abused and suffering the horrors of child prostitution! Are the world leaders blind? If we can spend hundreds of billions of dollars on wars why can’t we spare a few billions of dollars to stop such atrocities and horrific suffering of innocent children?

Can we show our love by doing a bit for these children? Key in “child prostitution” and you will find lots of websites of organisations who are doing something about it even though some world leaders are acting blind or playing dumb about it! Can the billionaires show their love too by helping these children? We all can help in our own little ways because I believe the power of love will see us through!

Soldiers are precious to their grandfathers, grandmothers, mothers, fathers, wives, children, brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, cousins and friends – just imagine the trauma, suffering and sadness wars have caused to millions of people!

The haunting song, “Where have all the flower gone” and this song is probably written for the world leaders, “Where have all the soldiers gone? Long time passing, Where have all the soldiers gone? Long time ago, Where have all the soldiers gone? Gone to graveyards everyone, O, when will they ever learn, O, when will they ever learn?”

We should also extend our love to the animals, plants and the earth. I’ve written a song in 1999 for the millennium and the title of the song is “It’s Time We Build and Care”

When will we learn that life is precious. And this earth is all we have. And the killings we must stop soon. It’s time we build and care.

Chorus: Mother Nature is giving her warnings. And she hopes we understand. Before it’s too late to stop the dying. Of this earth we all share.

The air and water is getting bad. The bombs and pollution is making it worse. There is too much destruction and suffering. It’s time we build and care.

Every day should be Valentine’s Day and we must express our love daily in many ways because what the world needs now is love sweet love!

The Poetry Of Childhood Memory

How sweet past is, no matter how wrong or how sad. How sweet is yesterday’s noise.

I wrote an essay ten years ago called “Memory As Muse,” and looking back at it today I am struck by the fact that in the poems I write about childhood now the mood has changed from one of a rather happy nostalgia (“Memory as Muse”) to a more realistic, or at least a gloomier, assessment of my own childhood and how it affects me as a writer (“Yesterday’s Noise”). Let me illustrate with a poem called “An Old Song,” from my most recent book.


How loyal our childhood demons are, growing old with us in the same house like servants who season the meat with bitterness, like jailers who rattle the keys that lock us in or lock us out.

Though we go on with our lives, though the years pile up like snow against the door, still our demons stare at us from the depths of mirrors or from the new faces across a table.

And no matter what voice they choose, what language they speak, the message is always the same. They ask “Why can’t you do anything right?” They say “We just don’t love you anymore.”

As A.S. Byatt said about herself in an interview: “I was no good at being a child.” My mother told me that even as a baby I would lie screaming in the crib, clearly terrified of the dust motes that could be seen circling in the sun, as if they were a cloud of insects that were about to swarm and bite me. By the time I was five or six, I had a series of facial tics so virulent that I still can’t do the mouth exercises my dentist recommends for fear I won’t be able to stop doing them. I’m afraid they’ll take hold like the compulsive habits of childhood that led my second-grade teacher to send me from the room until I could, as she put it, control my own face. There was the isolating year (sixth grade) of being the one child nobody would play with, the appointed victim, and there was the even more isolating year (fourth grade) of being, alas, one of the victimizers. There was my shadowy room at bedtime, at the end of a dark hallway, and, until some worried psychologist intervened, no night light allowed.

I thought about calling my last book Only Child because something about that condition seemed to define not only me, but possibly writers in general who sit at their desks, necessarily alone, for much of the time. In some ways, of course, it defines all of us, born alone, dying alone, alone in our skins no matter how close we seem to be to others. I tried to capture my particular loneliness as a child, my difficulty in making friends, my search for approval, in what I thought would be the title poem of that book:

Only Child

Sister to no one, I watched the children next door quarrel and make up in a code I never learned to break.

Go Play! my mother told me. Play! said the aunts, their heads all nodding on their stems, a family of rampant flowers

and I a single shoot. At night I dreamed I was a twin the way my two hands, my eyes, my feet were twinned. I married young.

In the fractured light of memory–that place of blinding sun or shade, I stand waiting on the concrete stoop for my own children to find me.

At a reading I gave before a group of Maryland PEN women last year, someone who had clearly not read beyond the tables of contents of my books introduced me as a writer of light verse. I remember thinking in a panic that I hardly had a single light poem to read to those expectant faces, waiting to be amused. Did I have such an unhappy life, then–wife, mother, grandmother, with woods to walk in, books to read, good friends, even a supportive editor?

I am, in fact, a more or less happy adult, suffering, thank God, from no more than the usual griefs age brings. But I think my poems are colored not only by a possibly somber genetic temperament, but also by my failure at childhood, even when I am not writing about childhood per se. And more and more, as I grow older, those memories themselves insist upon inserting themselves into my work. Perhaps it is the very way our childhoods change in what I called “the fractured light of memory” that make them such an inexhaustible source of poetry. For me, it is like the inexhaustible subject of the seasons that can be seen in the changeable light of the sun, or the versatile light of the imagination, as benign or malevolent or indifferent, depending upon a particular poet’s vision at a particular moment.

I want to reflect a little then on those poems we fish up from the depths of our childhoods. And for any teachers reading this, I want to suggest that assigning poems to student writers that grow out of their childhoods can produce unusually good results, opening up those frozen ponds with what Kafka called the axe of poetry.

Baudelaire says that “genius is childhood recalled at will.” I had a 19-year-old student once who was not a genius but who complained that he couldn’t write about anything except his childhood. Unfortunately, his memory was short, and as a result, all of his poems were set in junior high school. He had taken my course, he told me, in order to find new subjects. I admit that at first glance junior high doesn’t seem the most fertile territory for poems to grow in. On the other hand, insecurity, awakening sexuality, fear of failure–many of the great subjects do exist there. It occurred to me that when I was 19, what I usually wrote about were old age and death. Only in my middle years did I start looking back into my own past for the subjects of poems. This started me wondering about the poetry of memory in general. Did other poets, unlike my young student, come to this subject relatively late, as I had? As I looked rather casually and unscientifically through the books on my shelves, it did seem to me that when poets in their twenties and thirties wrote about children, it was usually their own children that concerned them, but when they were in their late forties or fifties or sixties, the children they wrote about tended to be themselves.

Donald Justice, in an interview with The Missouri Review, gave as good an explanation of this as anyone. He said, “In the poems I have been thinking of and writing the last few years, I have grown aware that childhood is a subject somehow available to me all over again. The perspective of time and distance alter substance somewhat, and so it is possible to think freshly of things that were once familiar and ordinary, as if they had become strange again. I don’t know whether this is true of everybody’s experience, but at a certain point childhood seems mythical once more. It did to start with, and it does suddenly again.”

There are, first of all, what I call “Poems of the Happy Childhood,” Donald Justice’s own poem “The Poet At Seven” among them. But for poets less skilled than Justice, there is a danger to such poems, for they can stray across the unmarked but mined border into sentimentality and become dishonest, wishful sort of recollections. When they are working well, however, these “Poems of the Happy Childhood” reflect the Wordsworthian idea that we are born “trailing clouds of glory” and that as we grow older we are progressively despiritualized. Even earlier than Wordsworth, in the mid-17th century, Henry Vaughan anticipated these ideas in his poem, “The Retreat.”

I mention Wordsworth and Vaughan because in looking back over the centuries at the work of earlier poets, I find more rarely than I expected poems that deal with childhood at all. Their poems are the exceptions, as are Shakespeare’s 30th Sonnet and Tennyson’s “Tears, Idle Tears.” Perhaps it wasn’t until after Freud that people started to delve routinely into their own pasts. But nostalgia per se was not so rare, and in a book called The Uses Of Nostalgia: Studies in Pastoral Poetry, the English critic Laurence Lerner comes up with an interesting theory. After examining pastoral poetry from classical antiquity on, he concludes that pastoral poems express the longing of the poets to return to a childhood arcadia, and that in fact what they longed to return to was childhood itself. He then takes his theory a step further and postulates that the reason poets longed for childhood is simply that they had lost it. He writes, “The list is varied of those who learned to sing of what they loved by losing it….Is that what singing is? Is nostalgia the basis not only of pastoral but of other art too?” Or as Bob Hass puts it in his poem “Meditation at Lagunitas,” “All the new thinking is about loss. In this it resembles all the old thinking.”

But though there are some left who think of childhood as a lost arcadia, for the most part Freud changed all of that.

We have in more recent times the idea of poetry as a revelation of the self to the self, or as Marge Perloff put it when describing the poems of Seamus Heaney, “Poetry as a dig.”

The sort of poems this kind of digging often provides are almost the opposite of “Poems of the Happy Childhood,” and they reflect a viewpoint that is closer to the childhood poems I seem to be writing lately. In fact, a poem like “Autobiographia Literaria” by Frank O’Hara actually consoles the adult by making him remember, albeit with irony in O’Hara’s case, how much more unpleasant it was to be a child. If the poetry of memory can console, it can also expiate. In his well-known poem, “Those Winter Sundays,” Robert Hayden not only recreates the past but reexamines his behavior there and finds it wanting. The poem itself becomes an apology for his behavior as a boy, and the act of writing becomes an act of repentance.

If you can’t expiate the past, however, you can always revise it–and in various, and occasionally unorthodox, ways. Donald Justice in the poem “childhood” runs a list of footnotes opposite his poem, explaining and clarifying. Mark Strand in “The Untelling” reenters the childhood scene as an adult and warns the participants of what is to occur in the future.

Probably the most ambitious thing a poem of childhood memory can accomplish is the Proustian task of somehow freeing us from time itself. Proust is perfectly happy to use random, seemingly unimportant memory sensations as long as they have the power to transport him backwards. When he tastes his madeleine, moments of the past come rushing back, and he is transported to a plane of being on which a kind of immortality is granted. We can grasp for a moment what we can never normally get hold of–a bit of time in its pure state. It is not just that this somehow lasts forever, the way we hope the printed word will last, but that it can free us from the fear of death. To quote Proust: “A minute emancipated from the temporal order had recreated in us for its apprehension the man emancipated from the temporal order.” Proust accomplished his journey to the past via the sense of taste, but any sense or combination of senses will do. In my poem “PM/AM,” I used the sense of hearing in the first stanza and a combination of sight and touch in the second. Here is the second:


The child gets up on the wrong side of the bed. There are splinters of cold light on the floor, and when she frowns the frown freezes on her face as her mother has warned her it would. When she puts her elbows roughly on the table her father says: you got up on the wrong side of the bed; and there is suddenly a cold river of spilled milk. These gestures are merely formal, small stitches in the tapestry of a childhood she will remember as nearly happy. Outside the snow begins again, ordinary weather blurring the landscape between that time and this, as she swings her cold legs over the side of the bed.

But did I really say: “A childhood she will remember as nearly happy”? Whom are you to believe, the poet who wrote that poem years ago or the poet who wrote “An Old Song”? As you see, the past can be reinterpreted, the past can be revised, and the past can also be invented. Sometimes, in fact, one invents memories without even meaning to. In a poem of mine called “The One-Way Mirror Back,” I acknowledge this by admitting: “What I remember hardly happened; what they say happened I hardly remember.” Or as Bill Matthews put it in his poem “Our Strange and Lovable Weather”-

…any place lies about its weather, just as we lie about our childhoods, and for the same reason: we can’t say surely what we’ve undergone and need to know, and need to know.

This “need to know” runs very deep and is one of the things that fuels the poems we write about our childhoods.

But the simplest, the most basic thing such poems provide are the memories themselves, the memories for their own sakes. Here is the third stanza of Charles Simic’s poem “Ballad”: “Screendoor screeching in the wind/ Mother hobble-gobble baking apples/ Wooden spoons dancing, ah the idyllic life of wooden spoons/ I need a table to spread these memories on.” The poem itself, then, can become such a table, a table to simply spread our memories on.

Looking back at some of my own memories, I sometimes think I was never a child at all, but a lonely woman camouflaged in a child’s body. I am probably more childlike now. At least I hope so.

One of the most distinguished contemporary poets, Linda Pastan has published eight volumes of poetry–A Perfect Circle of Sun, Aspects of Eve, The Five Stages of Grief, Waiting for My Life, PM/AM: New and Selected Poems, A Fraction of Darkness, The Imperfect Paradise, and Heroes in Disguise. Her poetry has also appeared in a wide range of publications, including The Atlantic Monthly, The New Yorker, The New Republic, The Georgia Review, Antaeus, Poetry, The American Poetry Review, Grand Street, and Paris Review.

Make Grandma’s Day – Kids Gift Suggestions For Grandparents Day

Gifts for Grandparents Day don’t have to be complex. In fact, of all the holidays that children participate in, Grandparents Day is one of the simplest for which to create a gift. The first thing to remember is that, for a grandparent, spending money is not always the best option.

Grandparents love gifts from the heart. This often means crafts or gifts created without spending any money. For example, rather than buying a bouquet of flowers to hand to Grandma, a handpicked bunch of wildflowers would be more appreciated from her young grandson or granddaughter. And in place of a store-bought greeting card, a hand drawn and written card would be more expressive of the youth’s true feelings toward his or her grandparents.

If your child is old enough to read, help them to find a simple, short book or story that involves children with their grandparents, and have them read it to their grandparents. Or, if they are a little older, perhaps they could even write a poem for their grandparents. All of these ideas cost nothing and yet mean the world to your child’s eldest relatives.

If your child is too young to get involved in such projects, give them simple tasks. Have them color a picture and give it to Grandpa, or let them glue macaroni to construction paper and create a picture for their grandparents. Even something as simple as writing names when the child has learned to spell can be impressive as a gift to doting grandparents on Grandparents Day.

This is one reason that grandparents are so special and deserve to be celebrated. They are always excited by the smallest of accomplishments by their grandchildren. It is almost as though they see it as a job to make a “mountain out of a mole hill” in regards to the slightest advancement in their grandchildren’s intelligence or abilities.

So, whether a simple stick-figure picture or a complex collage depicting what the child thinks or feels about his or her grandparents, any gift is bound to be seen as special by Grandma or Grandpa on Grandparents Day.

Improve your English by reading Newspaper

If you really want to develop your English Language Communication Skills, you will have many more interesting ways and you need to apply them sincerely. One of the interesting ways is reading English newspapers regularly for at least half an hour daily. Do not miss reading newspapers in English language even for one day and if you keep on reading newspapers for a period of six months or nine months regularly you will be really surprised by noticing the progress of yours. Given below are some very important tips that you have to follow while or during the newspapers of English language.

Tips to be followed to improve your English by reading English Newspapers:

1.Firstly, you must select a newspaper which suits you better. Reading the standard newspapers in the initial stage is rather difficult one, so select the newspaper that uses simple language and simple words.
2.Select two or three articles and note down difficult words and learn their meanings with the help of a standard dictionary.
3.While going through the sentences observe very carefully how they are written.
4.Guess the meaning of the words that you don’t understand. Don’t refer to a dictionary immediately.
5.Try to use the words and sentences/expressions that you read in the newspapers in your day-to-day conversations with different people.
6.Make it a regular habit of reading English newspaper every day. You will not witness much progress if you give up this habit.
7.Although it is a newspaper don’t read it like that; instead read the newspaper of English just like one of your academic subjects.
8.Keep a pocket note book and enter the new words and expressions that you learn every day by reading newspapers of English.
9.Revise the new words and expressions that you have learned at least twice in a month. Even if you have forgotten them, this kind of revision will help you to recollect them again.
10.By reading more and more the English newspapers you will also get command over writing skill also with in no time. Make an attempt to write your views and feedback to the Editor.
11.One more important advantage that you will get by reading English newspapers regularly is your grasping power will be developed and as a result of this, your reading skills will automatically be improved.
12.You can participate in JAM Sessions, Debates and in Group discussions easily and effectively by reading English newspapers regularly because already you have started gaining more knowledge in terms of vocabulary, information and above all the formation of sentences.

Children Watch, Listen & Learn What They Live

Ever wonder why people are the way they are or where they learned to be a certain way? We cannot discount the influence of upbringing, peers, environment and genetics. Although we have very limited or no control over some of the things that shape our children, we can do our part to make a positive difference. We teach them by the way we treat them and the way we treat others. We can lead them by our example and how we react and cope with people and situations. It is empowering and encouraging to know that children can learn love and happiness when it is manifested in our own lives. They watch… they listen… they learn…they copy, and it becomes what they live. The greatest reward we can ever receive as parents is seeing them live out the beautiful qualities of truly happy and healthy children who grow up to make their own positive contributions to the world and the lives of others.

Below is a very beautiful poem that can inspire us all to do our part in being a positive influence in the lives of children as they learn what they live. May we guide them and help them learn from the good and the bad, inspire them to walk in integrity, live with security, confidence and love, and be the best they can be!

Children Learn What They Live

If a child lives with criticism,
He learns to condemn.
If a child lives with hostility,
He learns to fight.
If a child lives with ridicule,
He learns to be shy.
If a child lives with shame
He learns to feel guilty.
If a child lives with tolerance,
He learns to be patient.
If a child lives with praise,
He learns to appreciate.
If a child lives with encouragement,
He learns confidence.
If a child lives with fairness,
He learns justice.
If a child lives with security,
He learns to have faith.
If a child lives with approval,
He learns to like himself.
If a child lives with acceptance and friendship,
He learns to find love in the world.

~Dorothy Law Nolte Ph.D.

If you want your children to improve, let them overhear the nice things you say about them to others. ~Haim Ginott

Kids go where there is excitement. They stay where there is love. ~Zig Ziglar

Live so that when your children think of fairness and integrity, they think of you. ~H. Jackson Brown, Jr.

When did we ever get the crazy idea that in order to make children do better, first we must make them feel worse? Think of the last time you felt humiliated or treated unfairly. Did you feel like cooperating or doing better? ~Jane Nelson

Hindi poetry losses Its Place

Abdul Rahim Khan-I-Khana, Jaishankar Prasad, Gopal Das Neeraj, Ashok Chakradhar- may be you have not heard these names. Many of us have very little or even no knowledge about the legendary Hindi poets. They are the some of them who make India proud with the beauty of their Hindi poetry. Hindi is our national language but still very few Indian loves to speak and read Hindi. Hardly, we see any Hindi poetry lover in our surrounding. Hindi poetry and even Hindi language is lagging behind. It’s only we the Indian who are responsible for this. Being our national language Hindi is not getting its place in the heart and minds of people. You can take example of any government or private organization, everywhere English is giving the priority.

Still there is little place left for Hindi in our nation but if this will continue, the coming generation is not able to taste the beauty of Hindi poetry anymore. In school, children were encouraged to study English poetry or literature and due to that somewhere Hindi is losing its importance in the hearts of people. Its not that Hindi is ignored in private institutions but same the case in government institutes. The government also doesn’t boost the people and children towards our national language.

We go to any organization we were forced to converse in English in any field we go into. On seeing this criterion parents also want to encourage their children towards the activities that focus on English language and not Hindi. Because of showing lack of priority the Hindi language, Hindi poetry suffers in our country. If we don’t show the interest towards the Hindi poetry and give it enough respect then who are going to do this for us.

People are losing interest in reading Hindi poems as they have mind set that English poetry is far better than Hindi poetry. Also, they find it boring to read as they have no keen interest in reading the words written in their own national language. All this happen because they have no habit in reading Hindi much. The great Hindi poets are losing their respects in the eyes of people. Their work has been not given that credit which it actually deserves.

If this will continue there will be lack in readership of Hindi language but also we lack in poets and writer who write in Hindi. Hindi is more expressive language then English and thus Hindi poetry is one the most meaningful thing to read which contains feelings. It all depends upon the people and their mind set what they want to read and write. Although one can best come up in expression and speech when he or she writes in their mother language that is Hindi.