Butch was a paperboy

 The story below is about a paperboy. I am sure many of the readers of my blog were paperboy or papergirls as well. Take a walk down memory lane.

Enjoy!

https://www.thundercloud.net/infoave/new/penny-fuskmusker-the-witch-of-42nd-street/

"IF"

Too good not to share. IMO

~Barb

IF~a column by Colleen O’Brien

In the mid-1950s, in Junior High, we had to memorize the poem “If” by Rudyard Kipling. He wrote it in 1895 and it was not published until 1910. It went right to the top of favorite poems in England and has stayed there at least through 1996, the last time a favorite poem was news.

If  by Rudyard Kipling  

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same:.
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings,
And never breathe a word about your loss:
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
If all men count with you, but none too much:
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!

We had to recite it often, which wasn’t too bad; after all, it did carry good advice for us, especially those of us who did not have a revengeful soul or a negative outlook because of our lives to date.

The last line made me frown, and unless I was the one who had to stand up and say the whole poem alone, I refused to say that I would be a man ,my son. This behavior is exactly like my behavior when I’m saying the Pledge of Allegiance: I never say the “under God” line because it was added sometime in the early 1950s, and my dad told us we were not a religious country but a secular country, and therefore we didn’t have to say that part. I never said it again. I’m assuming my sisters didn’t, either, although it’s not something I can recall talking about with either of them.

I ran across the IF poem the other day when I read that Muhammad Ali kept a copy in his wallet to read in times of need. It brought back all those days in Miss Field’s class concentrating on this poem and then I started thinking about the times in my life when lines popped into my head – “If you can keep you head when all about you/Are losing theirs and blaming it on you….”   Or, even more often, as I lay on the couch for hours at a time reading books – “If you can fill the unforgiving minute/With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run…”

Famed love-poems master Pablo Neruda denigrated the poem for its Victorian rules, but revered Irish poet William Butler Yeats added it to a collection of poetry in the 1930s.

“If” has led a life like this – loved and lambasted – and seemed to hold its head high through all these decades, favorite poem of multitudes relying on its several messages for more than a century . . . “If all men count with you, but none too much” could, for example, be a maxim for those on the far right.

In the end, it’s not a bad poem to run across now and then. It makes me smile with its didactic way – do this, my son, do that – but if only once in your life you take a lesson from it, well, you will be a man, my son. Or a woman, my girl?

"If" For Girls by Elizabeth Lincoln Otis, 1921      

If you can trust yourself though others doubt you
And conquer fears that limit what you dare
So you can freely give to those about you
The skills and talents that are yours to share;

If you can live, not for your pleasure only,
But gladly lend your gentleness and grace
To warm the hearts of those whose lives are lonely
And help to make their world a better place;

If you can balance dreams with practicality
And deal in facts, but never lose ideals,
If you can face the harshness of reality
And find the truths that prejudice conceals;

If you can be courageous when defeated
And humble in the face of victory,
Or give your best until a task's completed,
However difficult that task may be;

If you can temper facts with understanding
And seek to gently guide, not to control,
And neither be too lax nor too demanding,
But keep in mind the worth of every soul...

If you can strive, not caring who gets credit,
And work at building bridges, and not walls,
Or hearing idle slander, just forget it
And never fail to help someone who falls;

If you can give your help without begrudging
The patience, time and effort you impart,
Or look at others' weakness without judging
And see, not with your eyes, but with your heart;

If you can take resources that surround you
And use them in the way you feel you should,
You'll be a woman...and all those around you
Will be the richer for your womanhood.

The fact that we’re all in this together seems to be a difficult concept for humans to understand. Combining the two IF poems is what our era needs, for we have come to the conclusion that women can be excellent leaders of countries and men can take care of babies with tenderness and laughter (I’ve noticed that dads make their babies laugh more often than moms.), we can all be “richer” for it. As will our planet and all those galaxies we’re gazing at, looking for evidence of beings like us.