“If  you can dream and not make dreams your master”
Rudyard Kipling

That most magical time of the year is here. Wind ‘em up. watch ‘em go, knock ‘em down – toys abound!  Nothing’s better than watching a gleeful child open gifts and then hanging out to play along with their fun new toys.

But with each advancing age the gifts become more complicated and the price tags soar to the moon (and don’t come back). Building blocks, toy trucks or cuddly soft dollies no longer cut it. Teenagers want the real thing. And adults – where to start?

Well, here’s a start – a simple gift for those of us with less than gleeful eyes. It’s a poem written in 1895 by Rudyard Kipling called IF.  Soft on the pocketbook, engaging for the seasoned mind, and easy to frame too. In fact, this poem meant so much to “The Greatest” Mohammed Ali, he kept it in his pocket. So here’s a gift from good ‘ol Rudy that just keeps on giving…

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 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!

My hopes are for many more such blessings to surround you this holiday season.
Happy Holidays!
Joan