| Fathers
are wonderful people |
|
too little understood, |
| And
we do not sing their
praises |
|
as often as we should |
| For,
somehow, Father seems to
be |
|
the man who pays the
bills, |
| While
Mother binds up little
hurts |
|
and nurses all our ills, |
| And
Father struggles daily |
|
to live up to
"his image" |
| As
protector and provider |
|
and "hero of the
scrimmage." |
| And
perhaps that is the reason |
|
we sometimes get the
notion |
| That
Fathers are not subject |
|
to the thing we call
emotion. |
| But
if you look inside Dad's
heart, |
|
where no else can see, |
| You'll
find he is sentimental |
|
and as "soft" as
he can be. |
| But
he is so busy every day |
|
in the grueling race of
life, |
| He
leaves the sentimental
stuff |
|
to his partner and his
wife. |
| But
Fathers are just wonderful |
|
in a million different
ways, |
| And
they merit loving
compliments |
|
and accolades of praise |
| For
the only reason Dad
aspires |
|
to fortune and success |
| Is
to make the family proud
of him |
|
and to bring them
happiness. |
| And
like our Heavenly Father, |
|
he's a guardian and a
guide, |
| Someone
that we can count on |
|
to be always on our side. |
| Helen
Steiner Rice. |