Paul Harvey Writes:


Paul Harvey writes!

We tried so hard to make things better for our
kids that we made them worse. For my grandchildren,
I'd like better.

I'd really like for them to know about hand me
down clothes and homemade ice cream and leftover
meat loaf sandwiches.

I really would.

I hope you learn humility by being humiliated,
and that you learn honesty by being cheated.
I hope you learn to make your own bed and mow
the lawn and wash the car. And I really hope
nobody gives you a brand new car when you
are sixteen.

It will be good if at least one time you can
see puppies born and your old dog put to sleep.
I hope you get a black eye fighting for something
you believe in, I hope you have to share a bedroom
with your younger brother.

And it's all right if you have to draw a line
down the middle of the room, but when he wants to
crawl under the covers with you because he's
scared, I hope you let him.

When you want to see a movie and your little
brother wants to tag along, I hope you'll let
him. I hope you have to walk uphill to school
with your friends and that you live in a town
where you can do it safely.

On rainy days when you have to catch a ride, I
hope you don't ask your driver to drop you two
blocks away so you won't be seen riding with
someone as uncool as your Mom.
  If you want a slingshot, I hope your Dad teaches
you how to make one instead of buying one. I
hope you learn to dig in the dirt and read books.

When you learn to use computers, I hope you
also learn to add and subtract in your head. I
hope you get teased by your friends when you have
you first crush on a girl, and when you talk back
to your mother that you learn what ivory soap
tastes like.

May you skin your knee climbing a mountain,
burn your hand on a stove and stick your tongue
on a frozen flagpole. I don't care if you try a
beer once, but I hope you don't like it. And if
a friend offers you dope or a joint, I hope you
realize he is not your friend.

I sure hope you make time to sit on a porch
with your Grandpa and go fishing with your Uncle.
May you feel sorrow at a funeral and joy during
the holidays. I hope your mother punishes you
when you throw a baseball through your neighbor's
window and that she hugs you and kisses you at
Christmas time when you give her a plaster mold
of your hand.

These things I wish for you-tough times and
disappointment, hard work and happiness. To me,
its the only way to appreciate life.

Send this to all of your friends who mean the
most to you. We secure our friends not by
accepting favors but by doing them.

Paul Harvey...GOOD DAY!