The soul of a child is the loveliest flower That grows in the garden of God. It climbs from weekness to knowledge and power, To the sky from the clay and the clod.

To beauty and sweetness it grows under care; Neglected ’tis ragged and wild, ‘Tis a plant that is tender and wondrously rare, The sweet wistful soul of a child.

Be tender, O gardener, and give it its share Of moisture, of warmth and of light; And let it not lack for painstaking care To protect it from frost and the blight.

A glad day shall come when its bloom shall unfold It will seem that an angel has smiled. Reflecting a beauty and sweetness untold In the sensitive soul of a child.

Author unknown