I knew a man who could count to ten
But he couldn’t count to twenty.
“You need more school,” I told my friend.
He told me he’d had plenty.
He couldn’t count as high as me
But one small thing he could do:
He could count his blessings, one by one,
And he told me, “So should you.”
I knew a man who couldn’t read
Or even write his name.
“You need to go to school,” I said.
He said no, thanks all the same.
And while he couldn’t read a book
I noticed something strange.
He could read a man with just one look,
He said, “Try it, for a change.”
I knew a man who never had
Two coins to rub together.
“You should go back to school,” I said.
“Your life sure would be better.”
“My life is fine, just as it is,”
My friend replied to me.
And I knew what he had said was true
‘Cause he never lied to me.
It’s so easy to add up another’s
Good points and his defects,
And calculate his quality
On a scale from sad to perfect.
But I have noticed, through the years,
My calculator’s broken.
A man might not proclaim his worth
But his deeds have been well spoken.
(Remembering Herb.)
- Jim Hagarty
