My parents let us play a lot on our own but at the same time had a very clear code of dos and don’ts. I found a copy of Stephen Spender’s poem today among my belongings and wondered about bringing up children now versus then – is there ever a “better way” with raising kids; do you make it up as you go along and hope for the best, knowing you will likely get blamed for whatever you do? Anyway, here is Mr. Stephen Spender:
My Parents kept me from children who were rough
My parents kept me from children who were rough
and who threw words like stones and who wore torn clothes.
Their thighs showed through rags. They ran in the street
And climbed cliffs and stripped by the country streams.
I feared more than tigers their muscles like iron
And their jerking hands and their knees tight on my arms.