Foss School Dedication
Banding together from the Indians
There was always a white-mans school
No matter what went on around them
Children were taught the golden rule
But of course as the time went on
More children were enrolled
In 1900 100 children attended
So many stories could be told
For now is the dedication
After all these years are past
So many folks gathered together
They are dedicated and steadfast
People have worked hard
To keep learning a priority
Throughout the difficult years at Foss
Even with white folks were a minority
Don’t you think it’s wonderful
When we gather for a cause
Tell stories of the past
Take time perhaps to pause?
poem by Marilyn Lott
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Related quotes
We're All God's Children
Album: Peace In The Valley
Here comes a Baptist, here comes a Jew
There goes a Mormon and a Muslim too
I see a Buddist and a Hindu
I see a Catholic and I see you
We're all god's children
We're all god's children
We're all god's children
Why can't we be
One big happy family
You like the day, and I like the night
He's into country and he's isn't quit
There's folks on the left and the far right
But that doesn't mean that we have to fight
We're all god's children
All god's children
Yeah, We're all god's children
Why can't we be
One big happy family
White folks, yellow folks, black and tan
On the same planet in the same plan
A feminist woman and a he man
We're all playin' the magic hand
We're all god's children
We're all god's children
Oh, We're all god's children
Why can't we be
One big happy family
We're all god's children
All god's children
Yeah, We're all god's children
Why can't we be
One big happy family
We're all god's children
All god's children
We're all god's children
Why can't we be
One big happy family
We're all god's children
We're all god's children
Yeah, We're all god's children
Why can't we be
One big happy family
We're all god's children
We're all god's children
We're all god's children
We're all black and white
We're all precious in his sight
We're all god's children
We're all god's children
We're all god's children
Why can't we all be
One big happy family...
song performed by by Alan Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stories
when we were young stories were told
That I'd kiss you sweet like
People said there was a connection between us
Now that we're old stories are told
Of how I hold you tight
Whenever I see those people I tell them they were right
Stories will be told
From when our children are young
until they're old
About our endless love
We must have had a blessing from above
Stories will be told until we're old
Stories will be told until the end of time
Stories will be told until we're old
Stories will be told until the end of time
Until the sun won't rise
Oh
song performed by by Hanson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Tough Old Bird
She was up in her years and her hair was completely gray
All she had was her memories which was quickly fading away.
Life had taken its toll on her, and the years made her hunched backed.
But she was a tough old woman, even after her heart attack.
Children would gather around her, and she’d tell the
Stories of days gone by-she would always get you
To laugh, she didn’t even have to try.
Memories of the 1920 s when gangsters ruled the streets
Where people were afraid to walk, if there
Wasn’t a cop on the beat.
Yet with all the violence they had a grand old time.
Speak easy clubs hidden in the dark alleys
Where most would not dare to go
But you could always find any type of gambling
Drinking, or musical show.
She had seen the great depression and every type of recession.
Clothing styles changing all the time
Food by the pound sold for a dime.
Ice cream and fruit carts being pulled down the streets
MY OH MY -what a wonderful treat.
Then the 1st world war came, and she
Wondered who was to blame.
American men running to volunteer to fight
for freedom- their lives they would share.
She was around for every conflict and war
And could write stories and books
Of everything that she saw.
But she was just happy to share her stories
And jokes with the children who would gather around.
They would listen to her and not make a sound.
She loved to see the children s faces all aglow
Every time she put on her show.
She knew her life was close to the end
And these children were her dearest friends.
So she left a story for each one to tell
And to this day, they do it very well.
poem by Louis Rams
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The Future Is The Children's
The future is the children's and I am of the past
And I too had my young years but nothing ever last
On looking back the Seasons how quickly the years have gone
Old age is fast approaching and the clock ticks on and on.
The future is the children's the children of today
They have the gift of youth with them though youth with them won't stay
On looking back decades from now when time has left them slow
They will wonder as I do where did the years to go.
The years are catching up one me and time has left me gray
And the future is the children's that would be true to say
The people in their sixties are running out of time
And few of them will be living when today's children are in their prime.
The future is the children's and to them alone belong
And those who will tell you differently have somehow got it wrong
But the hands of time keep turning and time on none does wait
And all of us are branded with an invisible use by date.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Family Time
Don’t you treasure your family time?
It sort of puts your heart to rest
Devoted, loved and respected
A close family is always the best
Children are taught to respect
The elderly folks related to them
They hear stories, look at pictures of
Family from which their lives stem
And of course, we all have relatives
That we never got to know
But we listen so intently to those
Who enjoyed that person so
Mom and dad with our babies
Pictures that are truly treasures
To put into a book or on a CD
Each memory is always a pleasure
So gather up all of your memories
For future generations to find
Opening up windows to the past
They can add their own family time!
poem by Marilyn Lott
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See The Children
(la la la la la la la...)
I stopped the car
The other day
I had to ask a little
Girl the way
I thought she'd show me
Better if she got inside
And once inside
I thought i'd taker her
For a little ride...
So i see the children
Feel the children
See the children
Feel the children
All the time...
See the children
Feel the children
See the children
Feel the children
All the time...
I'm a supermarket santa
Underneath the christmas tree
The little one all like to
Come and sit upon my knee
I have to hold them tightly
'cause they fall to the floor
A little concern ain't
Against the law...
So i see the children
Feel the children
See the children
Feel the children
All the time
See the children
(something something something??) all the time
I pass by the infant school
Every single day
I push sweeties through the fence
But the kids just run way
I only want to talk with them
And join in their fun
But all the little children do
Is run run run run run run run run...
(la la la la la la, la la la la la la..etc..)
See the children
Feel the children all the time..
See the children
Feel the children
See the children
Feel the children
All the time........
song performed by by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Old School House At Ruby
In old school house yard at Ruby a dark brown shorthorn cow
And leghorn pullets cackling beneath the cypress bough
This school must hold good memories and memories live somehow
Here in their lunch hour children played but where are those children now? .
The old school room now a tea room has undergone some change
And if past pupil came back here he'd find the place quite strange
Where is the desk he sat at? the blackboard is not there
And time has brought change to Ruby as it has done elsewhere.
The old school house at Ruby a memory of past years
Here Ruby children sang and laughed and shed their fledgeling tears
And do those children of Ruby who now live far away
In dreams return to old school house and Ruby childhood day? .
The old school house at Ruby a memory of the past
And time has brought about some change and time bring change too fast
This school must hold good memories and memories live somehow
Here in their lunch hour children played but where are those children now? .
poem by Francis Duggan
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Children Power
Children power,
Children power,
Children power,
Children power.
Monkeys are jumping from tree to tree,
Whales are swimming from sea to sea,
Birds are flying from sky to sky,
People are seeing eye to eye.
Were all one.
Children power, (children power)
Children power, (children power)
Children power, (children power)
Children power. (children power)
Earth is turning evry day,
Rivers are flowing in every way.
Trees are growing day by day,
And people are loving in their own way.
Were all one.
Children power, (children power)
Children power, (children power)
Children power, (children power)
Children power, (children power)
Children power, (children power)
Children power, (children power)
Children power, (children power)
Children power. (children power)
Caring people, (caring people)
Loving people, (loving people)
Learning people, (learning people)
Growing people, were all one.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Captured Memories
Captured memories from the past
At the Oklahoma History Center
You’ll be surprised and impressed
The very moment you enter
It’s such a treasured museum
One you will truly enjoy
Early railroad pictures
That has so many stories
A one room school house
Really takes you back
Railroad in the early stages
So different from the Amtrak
Teepees from the past as well
Oil once called Black gold
An oh, the stories and the tales
So many to be told
So take some time and visit
The Oklahoma History Center
You’ll be so glad you did, folks
The very moment that you enter!
poem by Marilyn Lott
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Children's Stories
Children's stories seem just that,
Only stories,
Nothing more,
And nothing less,
But what we do not see,
Is that they are more,
They give children things to believe in,
They give them rules to life,
They tell them mistakes,
So they dont have to make them too,
They show them lessons,
They give reason to ways,
Childrens stories,
Give children reasons to live.
poem by Angel Lockheart
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Sheltered Memories
I did some traveling
A few years ago
I wanted to meet family
That I really didn’t know
Some lived in the same
Family home for years
Full of precious memories
From happiness to tears
I listened to stories
These folks had to tell
Treasured sweet memories
I saw my notebook swell
For these were the stories
That needed to pass
Down through generations
So questions were asked
I saw how they lived
A different life from mine
Heard tales of today
Many from another time
I smile as I see photos
Of family from the past
Photos shelter memories
That will forever last!
poem by Marilyn Lott
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The Great Sin Of Prejudice Against Color
Children,
who made your skin white?
Was it not God?
Who made mine black?
Was it not the same God?
Am I to blame, therefore,
because my skin is black?
Does it not cast a reproach
on our Maker
to despise a part of His children,
because He has been pleased
to give them a black skin?
Indeed, children, it does;
and your teachers ought to tell you so,
and root up, if possible,
the great sin of prejudice
against color from your minds.
While Sabbath School Teachers
know of this great sin,
and not only do not teach
their pupils that it is a sin,
but too often indulge in it themselves,
can they expect God
to bless them or the children?
Does not God love colored children
as well as white children?
And did not the same Savior
die to save the one as well as the other?
If so,
white children must know
that if they go to Heaven,
they must go there
without their prejudice against color,
for in Heaven
black and white
are one in the love of Jesus.
Now children,
remember what Sojourner Truth has told you,
and thus get rid of your prejudice,
and learn to love colored children
that you may be
all the children of your Father
who is in Heaven.
poem by Sojourner Truth
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I've Heard Those Old Stories Told
'Everything' about me you see...
My Father God,
Has taught to me.
I've heard those old stories told,
About what folks have done...
To make my life easy and comfortable.
Especially told to others who did not know.
And who did what...
When I got myself into ruts.
'God...
I am so glad You know the real deal! '
And I wonder 'who' that might have been?
That came to my aid when I needed them.
Hmmm...
It's true,
I have had folks give me 'things'.
And money loaned I paid back.
I've had people to me make promises.
And I remember every one of them broken...
From the time I was a kid!
Hmmm...
I can't remember anyone,
Motivating my moves!
Only You,
My Father.
I could say my entire life has been spent...
With me doing the giving.
And to a degree that would be true.
Since several people I have known...
Have told lies.
That's all they did and still do.
And I use to listen to a whole lot of BS.
With attempts I made to correct some mess.
Do I now?
No!
'Everything' about me you see...
My Father God,
Has taught to me.
And the biggest lesson I have learned to date?
Do not hesitate in the waiting of others to approve!
You'd be a dried up old prune in the doing.
If you've been blessed with a gift,
You better give it and be done with it!
And let whoever say whatever!
Give folks who gossip some fuel,
To keep their lips moving.
And doing something bizarre...
While you're at it!
Learn to live without restrictions and limitations.
You and your time are not defined by those mindless.
Unless you let it!
Then whose truth do you ultimately live?
It wont be mine because I have my own to live!
Although I do give folks credit where it is due.
Like being witnesses...
To the gifts God has given to me.
That's it!
Anything else folks would like to claim...
Did not occur on my watch.
But I do understand,
Why some folks like to associate themselves...
With those who struggle through and win,
Their battles and conquer over grief!
Thank You God, Almighty!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Advice to Little Children
Bless those little children
That love to go to school;
Blessed be the children
That obey the golden rule.
Children, love your parents,
For they have cared for you;
When you were little infants
They watched and prayed for you.
CHORUS:
Bless those little children
That go to Sabbath school,
For they hear of Jesus,
And learn the golden rule.
Prayed that you might some day
Give a pleasant smile,
Be a comfort in their old age,
And be a loving child.
Now my little children,
Be cheerful in your song,
And make your home an Eden,
For all the day long.
Chorus --
Love your little school-mates,
Be gentle in your play,
Be kind to your teachers,
And their commands obey.
Oh! then you will be happy
In the bright world to come,
For then your friends will love you
Forever, little ones.
poem by Julia A Moore
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And Where Is She Now
How often do you wonder
what happened to your first love.
Sometimes I do it all the time.
I wonder what she is doing,
what kind of life she’s lead,
has she had any children and how many.
Did she ever marry the man of her dream,
or is she still waiting
for him to come along?
The questions are without answers,
as I really don’t know.
My first love was Gillian Reid.
I met her at a dance hall
where she worked.
I caught a glimpse of her
the first night I went there
from the corner of my eye.
It was enough for me
to fall madly in love with her.
I slowly got to know as time passed by.
We never went out together though I did try.
However, I had fallen madly in love with her.
Sadly, that love was never returned.
She did however become
a source of inspiration
for many years to come.
I wrote songs by the score,
even my first novel
was written for her.
As the years passed,
she still did inspire me
with short stories and a radio play
and of course
a poem or two.
The last I heard about her
was way back in the late sixties
when someone had told me
she went all hippie.
Still I never saw her again
and I often wonder
would I recognise her
if by chance we passed on the street.
One thing I do remember well.
I wrote her a letter,
the longest letter that I’ve ever written.
It took five envelops to sent it,
so I must have been smitten.
And where is she now
your guess is as good as mine.
All I can tell you is this,
somewhere in this heart of mine
a small fire for her still burns
for the first love of mine.
Time has never dampened
all the embers in there.
However, my wife
has nothing to worry about.
The past is the past
and that is just where it is staying.
poem by David Harris
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We sat down and told stories that happened to us in our childhood, to our children. They were all basically based on the truth. These stories were funny and poignant to us. They just took off. These are all stories from my life.
quote by Howie Mandel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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New Years Day
Written by mullen, evans, clayton, hewson
Yeah
All is quiet on new years day
A world in white gets underway
I want to be with you
Be with you night and day
Nothing changes on new years day
On new years day
I will be with you again
I will be with you again
Under a blood red sky
A crowd has gathered in black and white
Arms entwined, the chosen few
The newspapers says, says
Say its true its true...
And we can break through
Though torn in two
We can be one
I, I will begin again
I, I will begin again
Oh
Maybe the time is right
Oh maybe tonight
I will be with you again
I will be with you again
And so were told this is the golden age
And gold is the reason for the wars we wage
Though I want to be with you
Be with you night and day
Nothing changes
On new years day
On new years day
song performed by by Tiffany
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Route March
Did you hear the children singing, O my brothers?
Did you hear the children singing as our troops went marching past?
In the sunshine and the rain,
As they’ll never sing again—
Hear the little school-girls singing as our troops went swinging past?
Did you hear the children singing, O my brothers?
Did you hear the children singing for the first man and the last?
As they marched away and vanished,
To a tune we thought was banished—
Did you hear the children singing for the future and the past?
Shall you hear the children singing, O my brothers?
Shall you hear the children singing in the sunshine or the rain?
There’ll be sobs beneath the ringing
Of the cheers, and ’neath the singing
There’ll be tears of orphan children when
Our Boys come back again!
poem by Henry Lawson
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Meeting Equals
Meeting Equals
White haired, the queen skin as bee wax, she
had a honeyed smile when shaking hands with
the president and his wife; how far they have
come she had said to her husband only this
morning. The presidents, the most powerful
family in the world, wonder if the children are
aware of that, and first lady, from a street wise
lawyer, to a wife whose job was to look pretty.
There was a great glow in the air, new time
meets old time and the past was hidden behind
a smile; however there was a question rumbling
in the first lady’s mind, but she pushed it back
for now: “why, it asked, are all the white folks so
exceedingly nice to us?
poem by Oskar Hansen
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In The Name Of The Children
While chilling one Saturday at home
My door was darkened
By a pair of campaign workers
As they explained their candidate’s position
Which I vehemently disagreed with
They hit me with the big one
In the Name of the children
In the name of the children
Has been evoked hundreds of times
By disingenuous people
Trying to infiltrate and pollute my mind
I think about
What all mankind is done to children
Over Hundreds of years with their stratagems
In the name of the children
They have closed down factories and offices
Escorted moms and dads from premises like criminals
Created wars and limited incursions, leaving children
Fatherless, motherless, homeless and with less
In the name of the children
They exploit their names without shame
Spend their money with impunity
Cut back on school learning programs
And blamed it on them for wanting to learn
All, In the name of the children
So I implore these bottom feeders
In the name of the father, Son and Holy Spirit
To really do something positive for the children
In the name of their own salvation
poem by Murphy Payne
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