Poem: A Child’s Grace

By Alice C. Henderson

The silver rain,
The golden sun,
The fields where scarlet poppies run,
And all the ripples of the wheat
Are in the bread that I do eat.
So when I pause for every meal
And say this grace, I always feel
That I am eating rain and sun
And fields where scarlet poppies run.

Nine-year-old Shoshanna Brady of Takoma Park,

Already a subscriber? Log in

You have read 5 articles this month.

For only $3 per month or $28 per year, you can read as much as you want!
A digital subscription includes unlimited access to current articles–and some exclusive digital content–released throughout each week, over thirty years of articles in our Dharma archive, as well as PDFs of all back issues.

Subscribe

By Alice C. Henderson

The silver rain,
The golden sun,
The fields where scarlet poppies run,
And all the ripples of the wheat
Are in the bread that I do eat.
So when I pause for every meal
And say this grace, I always feel
That I am eating rain and sun
And fields where scarlet poppies run.

Nine-year-old Shoshanna Brady of Takoma Park, Maryland learned this verse n Waldorf School. Shoshanna and her family practice with the Washington, D. C. Mindfulness Community.

Log In

You can also login with your password. Don't have an account yet? Sign Up

Hide Transcript

What is Mindfulness

Thich Nhat Hanh January 15, 2020

00:00 / 00:00
Show Hide Transcript Close
Shopping cart0
There are no products in the cart!