"Little by little", the acorn said,
as he slowly sank down in his mossy little bed,
"I'll be an oak tree, by and by."
Oh, silver haired lady with your fragile voice! With your sweet gentle memories of days gone by! Singing little rhymes to a chubby little man, clapping along with the rhythm and the song! We three, Elliot and Rosa and me, we will keep it alive , we will see that it thrives! May the acorns sleep and the mighty oaks reach for the sun!
From Nursery Rhymes My Mother Told Me On January Afternoons.