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From the Omaha Daily Bee, January 27, 1914. By Ella Wheeler Wilcox.

God sent us here to make mistakes—
    To strive, to fail, to begin;
    To taste the tempting fruit of sin
And find what bitter food it makes.

To miss the path, to go astray,
    To wander blindly in the night,
    But searching, praying for the light
Until at last we find the way.

And looking back upon the past,
    We know we needed all the strain
    Of fear and doubt and strife and pain
To make us value peace at last.

Who fails, finds later triumph sweet,
    Who stumbles once, walks then with care,
    And knows the place to cry “Beware!”
To other unaccustomed feet.

Through strife the slumbering soul awakes.
    We learn on error’s troubled route
    The truths we could not prize without
The sorrow of our sad mistakes.

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