A Song:

When I die, O dearest creature of mine,

do not sing your sad songs for me,

and plant no roses near my head,

nor shade me with the oak tree;

be yourself the grass above me,

with drizzle and refreshing drops of dew;

and if you will, remember me —

and if you will... forget!

I shall not see the shadows any more,

and I shall never feel the rain,

nor shall I hear the nightingale

singing in the choking of pain,

nor shall I dream through the mist

that will not rise and will not set.

So if you will, remember me —

and if you will, forget!!

The Dream:

The hope I dreamed of... was a dream —

it was a mere dream... and now I have risen,

worn with weariness, mute, grown old,

for a dream's sake!

I hung my flute upon a tree

beside the lake, where the branches mourn;

I hung my silent flute there,

for a dream's sake!

Lie still, lie still, O broken heart;

O my silent heart, lie still and break!

For life, and the world, and the depths of my soul

are changed, all of them,

for a dream's sake!

It is commonly said of all children that hardly does a thought occur to them, or their gaze fall upon something, without a question about it springing at once to their minds. Inquisitiveness is a trait that clings to them, and it is truly their first school, for by means of it what they do not know is disclosed to them.

Children's questions multiply from the age of three to seven, and the answers ought to be suited to their comprehension and their understanding of things. The essential condition of an answer is simplicity and clarity, with short phrases. And if your child puts you in a tight corner, Madam, with a question you find hard to answer, you have nothing but frankness as a guide out of the predicament. Tell him openly that you do not know, and promise him that you will bring him the answer as soon as you learn it. That is better for you than teaching him something wrong.

Not every question a child asks is a satisfaction of his desire for knowledge; it sometimes happens that what he wants by it is to draw his parents' attention, or he asks merely for the sake of talk and conversation, or he is carried along by the momentum of keeping the questions going. An example is what passed between Riyad and his mother when he asked her:

— Why are you putting on your new clothes? — To visit a friend of mine. — And why are you visiting her? — Because she is sick. — And why is she sick? — Because she did not follow the doctor's instructions.

And Riyad kept up his monotonous questions — and why? — until she silenced him by saying: And what business of yours is it anyway?!

When a child, Madam, directs some trite question to you, it is expected of you not to mock him, even if it invites laughter. And know that every child who poses some question shows that knowledge failed him when he sought it in his limited mind, and so he turned to you.

One look at this truth will make you avoid grumbling at him or driving him away from his questions. Perhaps if he knew how much his inquisitiveness annoyed you, he would put an end to it — but how should he know?!