Good Timbers

During Sunday School about a year ago, the teacher passed out copies of this poem to everyone in attendance. I loved the poem and decided to glue it to the front of my journal. There it stays and I read it often. I've been meaning to share it, but have gotten distracted by other things. So, here it is:

The tree that never had to fight
For sun and sky and air and light,
But always got its share of rain,
Never became a forest king
But lived and died a scrubby thing.

The man who never had to toil to live,
Who never had to win his share
Of sun and sky and light and air,
Never became a manly man
But lived and died as he began.

Good timber does not grow at ease,
The stronger wind, the stronger trees.
The further sky, the greater length,
The more the storm, the more the strength.

By sun and cold, in rain and snow,
In trees and men good timbers grow.
Where thickest lies the forest growth
We find the patriarchs of both.
And they hold council with the stars
Whose broken branches show the scars
Of many winds and much of strife.
This is the common law of life.

~Unknown Poet