Megan Cherry has done us the honor of sharing an amazing section of the letter her father wrote her from his prison cell in Folsom. It is truly amazing to see that no matter where you are, what you have done, or where you are going even those behind bars hold out hope for a better tomorrow. I truly believe we could all learn from Austin Varney. What an extraordinary man!
I realize you’re a grown woman now, capable of making your own life decisions. But, with that said, I’d like to share something with you. It’s a father sharing advice with his baby girl.
“If you can keep your head when all around you are losing theirs and blaming it on you; if you can trust yourself when all others doubt you, but make allowances for their doubting too; if you can wait and not be tired by waiting; or being lied about, but don’t deal in lies. Or being hated by others, don’t give way to hating, and not act too good, nor too wise…If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch…If you can fill the unforgiving minute, With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run, Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it…”
You will truly be a woman! It was through long days of sorrow and many lonely nights that these words have carried me.
– Austin Varney
Below you will find the poem Austin is quoting:
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 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!
Fight 2 Forgive 