PERSISTENCE

With new instrument and eager hands
I sat down to learn to play.
The sounds came forth uncertain
But I practiced every day.

Sometimes it seemed hopeless---
I played so out of tune
Folks told me that I’d never learn
And I retreated to my room.

But my instrument went with me
And the practicing went on.
Beyond the door I heard them say,
“Well maybe.” and then they were gone.

The sounds came forth more clearly
I was spurred to harder things
And I began to reap the peace
That self-made music brings.

Folks then began to listen
Amazed at what they heard.
They asked me how I did it---
And “persistence” was my word.

But I kept from them a secret
That has never yet been told---
I found a friendly teacher
Whose secrets did unfold.

Thank you to my MYC teacher !!!!
Anonymous

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A student's poem for our MYC teachers. We thought we'll share it with you!

Ms. Brenda