to bring along the third…
for the echo of Truth is sometimes heard
more clearly than the words first spoken.
A cord of three strands is less likely broken
than one or two, and equally true and strong
is a chord of voices intent on passing along
what matters most from age to age.
The oldest voice gently leads
and helps confirm that the Page
from which the middle voice reads
or shares each day is worth the ink and worthy indeed to make us think
beyond our lifetime.
Some say "it takes a village,"
but more often than is heard,
it takes two generations
to bring along the third.
© 2007 / 2021 Tom Kapanka
Today was Grandparents Day at the school I oversee. It's a wonderful tradition each spring. We had over 300 guests registered to attend. They're not all "related" grandparents--some are close friends who fill the role for the day. These guests visited classes, had a "picnic" style lunch in the gymnasium and on the grounds, then watched the Elementary grades perform "Pinocchio." We began the day with a general assembly where I'm usually on the agenda for about ten minutes of "opening remarks."
Last night, I knew what I was going to say, but I woke up at 4:12 AM, scribbled down the lines above, and went back to bed. When I got up at 6:15, I read them again. To my surprise they still made sense when read with conversational meter. So this morning we printed the lines on narrow bookmarks to give to our grandparents and guests. As I was speaking about our school's mission, heads nodded with supportive understanding, etc.
I talked about a picture of a three-arched bridge that hangs in office and how those three strong arches symbolized the gist of the poem. But just as it came time to read these lines, I saw a man and wife sitting on the aisle who have gone through a life-changing trial as they've carried out this third- generational role for their grandchildren. While horseback riding with a granddaughter, my friend was thrown from his mount, breaking the same vertebrae as Christopher Reeve, resulting in the same paralysis and wheelchair. It’s been well over a year, but this grandfather has a marvelous testimony and the same smile I saw the day we met seven years ago.
I got a lump in my throat, but I don't think anyone noticed. I decided to pass out the bookmarks without my reading the poem... as if that was my plan all along. Maybe I could have read it; maybe not. It's not that the lines themselves are that "emotional," but in that moment they were too fresh in my mind to know if I could read them without getting misty-eyed. That's pathetic, I know, but it's hard enough to see through the bottom of my Varilux lenses when my eyes are clear. So why risk it? The older I get the more often I have such moments.
It was a great day. We have a choir and band concert tonight followed by what promises to be a sunny weekend.
Sunday evening follow-up: Having read some of the comments and after visiting with some of the grandparents (who commented about the bookmark at school), I want to say that just as Mother's Day does not evoke the same memories and emotions for all people, thoughts about grandparents or being a grandparent vary for family to family. The lines themselves make no mention of "grandparents" per se, but rather of generations. It's possible that you may represent the first "strand" in the kind of cord we're talking about. The thing we dare not forget is that current "young people" have much to gain from those older than their parents in their lives. It's possible that you may extend or accept such a relationship beyond your "family tree."
By the way, I've joked in the past about being a poor speller. On over 300 bookmarks, I spelled the word cord "chord," While I was embarrassed by the mistake, until that moment I never made the connection between a "chord" of three notes and the three strands twisted in standard "cord" or rope. I later revised the lines to make use of this mistake. =)
Originally written for CCS Grandparent's Day 2007 with these remarks from 14 years ago.
Today was Grandparents Day at the school I oversee. It's a wonderful tradition each spring. We had over 300 guests registered to attend. They're not all "related" grandparents--some are close friends who fill the role for the day. These guests visited classes, had a "picnic" style lunch in the gymnasium and on the grounds, then watched the Elementary grades perform "Pinocchio." We began the day with a general assembly where I'm usually on the agenda for about ten minutes of "opening remarks."
Last night, I knew what I was going to say, but I woke up at 4:12 AM, scribbled down the lines above, and went back to bed. When I got up at 6:15, I read them again. To my surprise they still made sense when read with conversational meter. So this morning we printed the lines on narrow bookmarks to give to our grandparents and guests. As I was speaking about our school's mission, heads nodded with supportive understanding, etc.
I talked about a picture of a three-arched bridge that hangs in office and how those three strong arches symbolized the gist of the poem. But just as it came time to read these lines, I saw a man and wife sitting on the aisle who have gone through a life-changing trial as they've carried out this third- generational role for their grandchildren. While horseback riding with a granddaughter, my friend was thrown from his mount, breaking the same vertebrae as Christopher Reeve, resulting in the same paralysis and wheelchair. It’s been well over a year, but this grandfather has a marvelous testimony and the same smile I saw the day we met seven years ago.
I got a lump in my throat, but I don't think anyone noticed. I decided to pass out the bookmarks without my reading the poem... as if that was my plan all along. Maybe I could have read it; maybe not. It's not that the lines themselves are that "emotional," but in that moment they were too fresh in my mind to know if I could read them without getting misty-eyed. That's pathetic, I know, but it's hard enough to see through the bottom of my Varilux lenses when my eyes are clear. So why risk it? The older I get the more often I have such moments.
It was a great day. We have a choir and band concert tonight followed by what promises to be a sunny weekend.
Sunday evening follow-up: Having read some of the comments and after visiting with some of the grandparents (who commented about the bookmark at school), I want to say that just as Mother's Day does not evoke the same memories and emotions for all people, thoughts about grandparents or being a grandparent vary for family to family. The lines themselves make no mention of "grandparents" per se, but rather of generations. It's possible that you may represent the first "strand" in the kind of cord we're talking about. The thing we dare not forget is that current "young people" have much to gain from those older than their parents in their lives. It's possible that you may extend or accept such a relationship beyond your "family tree."
By the way, I've joked in the past about being a poor speller. On over 300 bookmarks, I spelled the word cord "chord," While I was embarrassed by the mistake, until that moment I never made the connection between a "chord" of three notes and the three strands twisted in standard "cord" or rope. I later revised the lines to make use of this mistake. =)
