Rabindranath Tagore


Bless this little heart, this white soul that has won the kiss of heaven for our earth. He loves the light of the sun, he loves the sight of his mother’s face. He has not learned to despise the dust, and to hanker after gold. Clasp him to your heart and bless him. He has come into this land of an hundred cross—roads. I know not how he chose you from the crowd, came to your door, and grasped you hand to ask his way. He will follow you, laughing the talking, and not a doubt in his heart. Keep his trust, lead him straight and bless him. Lay your hand on his head, and pray that though the waves underneath grow threatening, yet the breath from above may come and fill his sails and waft him to the heaven of peace. Forget him not in your hurry, let him come to your heart and bless him.

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