By Brynne Wise

Written by my very own beautiful mother, of whom I am so grateful for, Cheryl Leighton Knowlton.

“I like to look at monuments and wonder what was done
By the person standing there and what great honors won.
‘What made your life so great?’ I asked the silent tranquil granite.
‘Whose life improved, whom did you touch while you were on the planet?’
I’ve often wish that I could do something just half as wise –
That someone might then make of me, a monument that size.
But then, I stop myself mid-thought and begin to realize,
I do have my own monuments before my very eyes.
More than one of them have I, they live within my walls.
My children are my monuments, their laughter fills our halls.
A parent’s touch is all they need, my love for them I’ll show
to lead and guide them while they’re young, to help them as they grow.
I’ll take the time to play with them, although there’s lots to do.
For if I do my chores instead, I never will get through.
And for all the tasks I do, it seems, two come back in their places.
Besides, I’d rather see the look of you upon their faces.
I have such precious little time while I can be their guard
to teach and train and mold and shape until they will be hard.
For children harden with their age as statues always do,
before you know, their attitudes are bonded just like glue.
Today, I’ll find some time to play where I thought I had none.
We’ll sing and dance and laugh a while, until the day is done.
And so, I may not ever have a monument of stone.
I’d rather have a monument of real-life flesh and bone.”

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