She let us run through rain and mud,
No warnings shouted, no fear-fueled thud.
“If showers don’t harm,” she’d plainly say,
“Then why fear storms that pass this way?”

 

No rules for soap or scrubbed-up hands,
Just dust and dirt from nearby lands.
“Clean dirt’s fine,” she liked to chime,
“Only filth will likely do the crime.”

 

She didn’t guard, she didn’t scold,
Taught us to think, not do what told.
The world has risk, but also right—
She raised us brave, not wrapped in fright.

 

She’d patch us up from bee-stung knees,
Then sent us back beneath the trees.
No talk of caution, no alarm—
Just lessons learned and no real harm.

 

She wasn’t one to medicate,
For colds, she’d say, “Just sleep and wait.”
But true infection met her care—
She knew the line and met it there.

 

No fear of strangers, no closed gate,
“Most folks are good,” she’d calmly state.
We learned to speak, to think, to doubt,
Not just obey—but figure out.

 

She didn’t guard, she didn’t scold,
Taught us to think, not do what told.
The world has risk, but also right—
She raised us brave, not wrapped in fright.

 

But lines were drawn where danger grew—
With cars, she taught us what to do.
“Back seat’s safest,” she would teach,
“Don’t trust the road, stay out of reach.”

 

She warned of snakes, but let us hold
The ones that shimmered green and gold.
For storms, she showed the thunder game—
Count the beats and know their name.

 

She never asked blind trust in rule,
But taught us how to think in school.
With every risk, a lesson laid—
And in that freedom, trust was made.

 

She didn’t guard, she didn’t scold,
Taught us to think, not do what told.
The world has risk, but also right—
She raised us brave, not wrapped in fright.