You gave me much more than a name, Someday, I hope my son says the same.Īs we look back over time We find ourselves wondering. I never told you enough, how proud I am to be called your son, Now that you are gone, I want to tell everyone. I am overwhelmed that someone would say that of me. You were the best example of what a man should be. I am honored beyond measure if that is true. Allen Shawĭad, I am often told I am just like you.
There was always love in Daddy´s hands.ĩ. Daddy´s hands, weren´t always gentle But I´ve come to understand. Daddy´s hands, were hard as steel when I´d done wrong. Daddy's hands were soft and kind when I was cryin´. And never take for granted the love in Daddy´s hands. If I could do things over, I´d live my life again. Sacrificed unselfishly, just to keep us all fed. I remember Daddy´s hands, working 'til they bled.
There are things that I´ve forgotten, that I loved about the man, But I´ll always remember the love in Daddy´s hands. I remember Daddy´s hands, how they held my Mama tight, And patted my back, for something done right. Years of work and worry had left their mark behind. You could read quite a story, in the calluses and lines. And reaching out to hold me, when I had a nightmare. I remember Daddy´s hands, folded silently in prayer. If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, And stoop and build'em up with worn-out tools If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings, And never breathe a word about your loss: If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is nothing in you Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!" If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, Or walk with Kings-nor lose the common touch, If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you, If all men count with you, but none too much: If you can fill the unforgiving minute With sixty seconds' worth of distance run, Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it, And-which is more-you'll be a Man, my son! If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too: If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies, Or being hated don't give way to hating, And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise If you can dream-and not make dreams your master If you can think-and not make thoughts your aim, If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two impostors just the same. That man is a success who has lived well, laughed often and loved much who has gained the respect of intelligent men and women and the love of children who has filled his niche and accomplished his task who leaves the world better than he found it, who has never lacked appreciation of Earth’s beauty or failed to express it who looked for the best in others, and gave the best he had. That Man is a Success by Robert Louis Stevenson This your legacy to youth - to make the best of all your days and finally to recognise the truth and you have shown us, silhouetted, stark that though we love the sunlight's summer rays we need not fear the coming of the dark.Ħ. And we, your heirs, will find that in good truth there's nothing here for tears. You know you left behind a memory of courage which the years can but increase. But youth remembers all the magic spun and woven in the warm fraternal glow of your companionship.
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