Menu

Naming Poems


A child is a blank canvas

A child is like a blank canvas

On which you may create

A painting so beautiful

But let me tell you and make no mistake

Whatever the colours are, that you decide to choose

Will make this child a winner or one that may just loose

So as you take that paint brush, to leave your lasting mark

Remember that your actions, determine this child's spark

Every stroke upon that canvas can never be undone

It will leave a lasting impression, as all those marks create one

So make sure, like the canvas, she is painted with colours bright and true

That everyone around here, loves her and guides her, as if they were you

It is all our responsibility to love and protect this child

To help her grow as best she can - no dark colours no grim image here..

We want to paint a picture that jumps right out of that page

We want to create a person who is shielded from our mistakes

And if we strive for perfection

We've done our very best

To create a beautiful masterpiece

Who will surely stand out, from all the rest

So today is your day and we say to you with love

Today and in the future we surround you with our love

(Deborah Chaplin)


Your Children Are Not Your Children

(Kahlil Gibran)

Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters

of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you, yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let our bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable.