To the editor:
Here is a poem I would like to share. The author is unknown.
Broken Dreams
As children bring their broken toys
With tears for us to mend,
I brought my broken dreams to God
Because he was my friend.
But then instead of leaving him
In peace to work alone,
I hung around and tried to help
With ways that were my own.
At last I snatched them back and cried:
"How can you be so slow?"
"My child," he said, "what could I do?
You never did let go."
ELIZABETH STUBBS
Chaffee
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