When a Poem Touches the Heart

I remember being young, sitting with a pen and my journal, and greatly desiring to be able to write a poem. I sat on my bed in my room trying to do this, and while I probably actually was successful at times, I usually ripped it out of my journal and threw it away because I didn’t think it was “good enough.” What would have been “good enough” to me then? Probably what I thought was good enough to others. What would be good enough to me now? Anything from the heart, no matter how childish or basic. The heart often finds itself discontent in so many things. Too many of us are chasing after what we think will fill it. I see this in myself and my children. Discontentment in circumstance, appearance, or possession.

We were so touched by this poem yesterday from our Gentle Feast curriculum for Cycle 1. It’s one that I want to remember so that we can return to it as we talk about our struggles with discontentment. It fosters such good discussion because it is so easy to understand from child to adult.

DISCONTENT, by Sara O. Jewett

Down in a field, one day in June,
The flowers all bloomed together,
Save one who tried to hide herself,
And drooped, that pleasant weather.

A robin who had flown too high,
And felt a little lazy,
Was resting near this buttercup,
Who wished she were a daisy.

For daisies grow so trim and tall!
- She always had a passion
For wearing frills around her neck,
In just the daisies' fashion.

And buttercups must always be
The same old tiresome color;
While daisies dress in gold and white,
Although their gold is duller.

"Dear robin," said this sad young flower,
"Perhaps you'd not mind trying
To find a nice white frill for me,
Some day when you are flying"

"You silly thing!" the robin said,
"I think you must be crazy:
I'd rather be my honest self
Than any made-up daisy.

"You're nicer in your own bright gown;
The little children love you;
Be the best buttercup you can,
And think no flower above you.

"Though swallows leave me out of sight,
We'd better keep our places:
Perhaps the world would all go wrong
With one too many daisies.

"Look bravely up into the sky.
And be content with knowing
That God wished for a buttercup
Just here, where you are growing."