I wanted to read you a quick, very short poem from W. B. Yeats, who's someone you may know. He wrote this to his love, Maud Gonne, and he was bewailing the fact that he couldn't really give her what he thought she wanted from him. And he says : "I've got something else, but it may not be for you."

He says this : 

"Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet :
But I, being poor, have only my dreams ;
I have spread my dreams under your feet ;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams."

And every day, everywhere, our children spread their dreams beneath our feet. And we should tread softly.

K. Robinson