If

Rudyard Kippling

This is a poem that I wished I had leaned as a young boy or even as a young man. Had I understood this poems significance I would have committed parts or all of it to memory.

It seems like so few men are being real fathers. I think that a father is a man who will do everything in his power to give his son's and daughter's safe passage to adult hood, and will pass to his kids as much of his fathers and grandfathers virtues and values as he can.

I understand that life is difficult at times but not near as difficult as a child's life when they are with out some sort of paternal mentor and moral compass. A father may start out on a dirt trail but during his life he does as much as he can to pave a highway for his kids and grandkids.

My dad worked all week as a tree surgeon and then worked private jobs cutting down trees on the weekends to earn money so his kids lives would be the best that he could make it. Thanks Dad.

I would encourage anyone to commit this to memory and try to live by some of it's principles. This poem was written to a young man, helping and teaching him how to become a man.

If
By Rudyard Kippling (1865-1936)

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 neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
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!