IF

Recently, long time friend and finance maestro Steven de Souza sent me this Kipling poem accompanied by his story which I felt magnified the beauty of the poem. It was timely and it comforted me . 

I reproduce it here verbatim.

I was given this poem before I went away to NZ. Can't remember who gave it to me but it probably gave me strength to get over the hours and days in a strange new environment.  I was 19, never ever travelled by plane. I had arrived late afternoon in Auckland with no one to meet me. I was quite prepared to sleep the night at the airport lounge as I had NZ 100 cash and knowing I could not affort to look for temp accomodation and a meal. This poem 'saved the day'. I know some of you will want to share this with a son or daughter or loved one who might be in need of morale boosting. Steve      

[IF] by Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you, 

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you But make allowance for their doubting too, 

If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or being lied about, don't deal in lies, Or being hated, don't give way to hating, And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise: 

If you can dream--and not make dreams your master, If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim;

If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two impostors just the same; 

If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools: 

If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings And never breathe a word about your loss; 

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is nothing in you Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!" 

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, Or walk with kings--nor lose the common touch, 

If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you; 

If all men count with you, but none too much, 

If you can fill the unforgiving minute With sixty seconds' worth of distance run, 

Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it, 

And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son! --Rudyard Kipling