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"Whose child is this?" I asked one day
Seeing a little one out to play
"Mine," said the parent with a tender smile
"Mine to keep a little while
To bathe his hands and comb his hair
To tell him what he is to wear
To prepare him that he may always be good
And each day do the things he should."
"Whose child is this?" I asked again
As the door opened and someone came in
"Mine," said the teacher with the same tender smile
He'll tell you.
"Mine, to keep just for a little while
To teach him how to be gentle and kind
To train and direct his dear little mind
To help him live by every rule
And get the best he can from Sunday School."
"Whose child is this?" I asked once more
Just as the little one entered the door.
"Ours," said the parent and the teacher as they smiled
And each took the hand of the little child
"Ours to love and train together
Ours this blessed task forever."