by Nan Keltie

Created on: April 17, 2008   Last Updated: March 16, 2010

A wise old friend stopped by to see,
Our newborn on that first week.
He placed a shaking, gentle hand,
Upon her tiny, pink cheek.

Then with his wise experience,
Beneath a cap of white hair,
His voice was tremb'ling when he said,
"A canvas is blank in there."

I wasn't sure just what he meant,
It rattled me quite a bit!
Did he sense something wrong with her?
Just what did he mean by it?

He must have seen my startled look,
Because he quickly explained,
"There's nothing wrong with her, my dear,
I'm sorry I've caused you pain.

"You see, her mind is a canvas clean,
That each new day you'll touch,
Impressing - painting - on her young life,
Your love, hope, laughter and such.

"This child will watch you every day,
She'll listen to both of you,
So be a good example, folks,
In all that you say and do."

I pondered as he walked away,
That dear, aging, precious saint,
Who cared enough to teach us both,
As new parents, how to paint.

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