ORATIONS

Great Oration in History

Abraham Lincoln
Given at the dedication of the Soldiers' National Cemetery in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, on
November 19, 1863:
Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth, upon this continent, a new
nation, conceived in liberty and dedicated to the proposition that "all men are created
equal."
Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so
conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battlefield of that
war. We have come to dedicate a portion of it, as a final resting place for those who
died here, that the nation might live. This we may, in all propriety do. But in a larger
sense, we cannot dedicate, we cannot consecrate, we cannot hallow, this ground. The
brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have hallowed it, far above our poor
power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here;
while it can never forget what they did here.
It is rather for us the living, we here be dedicated to the great task remaining before us--
that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they
here gave the last full measure of devotion--that we here highly resolve that these dead
shall not have died in vain, that this nation shall have a new birth of freedom, and that
government of the people, by the people, for the people shall not perish from the earth.

Martin Luther King

Given in August of 1963 at the Lincoln Memorial. This is one of the best examples of
oration, but was too long to be included in its entirety. Following is an excerpt:
And so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream.
It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.
I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its
creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal."
I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia, the sons of former slaves and
the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of
brotherhood.
I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the
heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an
oasis of freedom and justice.
I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not
be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.
I have a dream today!
I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor
having his lips dripping with the words of "interposition" and "nullification"--one day right
there in Alabama little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little
white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.

I’m proud I belong. Yes, I belong to a family, so proud to belong to a Filipino Family. I came from
islandsrippled with sun, where days have green briers and nights are warm with
moon and stars. I’m glad to
belong to a Filipino Family, because curdling my loins is blood, rich as milk, for I
was born of Sultans,Rajahs, Kings, Soldiers, Heroes, who fought to sing the poetry of
freedom. I belong to a Filipino Family, Ilive in a Filipino home, my house is my land, virgin,
brown, wombed-out of loam, volcanic rock andshells, carpeted with rice, coconuts, canes,
trees, that rise as temples of grapple winds, rains, mightyrivers, furrowing the earth. As I
belong to a Filipino Family, I walk with my shadow as a marriage of flags,Malays,
Chinese, American, Japanese, while in my bones slept quietly as a bride, vanquish
desires of emperors who dreamt of empires, gold trade, and spice. Though I fail to breathe, I
stand with theancient, for my love and loyalty to a Filipino Family are as fish to the
sea. I belong to a Filipino Familywho believes in goodness and bounty of God, who
believes in grandeurs of charity and in piece, wholooks upon all men as brothers,
whose task, it is to love, who sees that all men are equal, that all menare free, but
who considers justice behind bars, as a cure for ills of man. I belong to a Filipino
Family wholoves 97 million Filipinos planting rice, husking coconuts, throwing nets
far into the pacific, hacking
mountains of Iron, Coal, Chrome, Manganese, and Timber to live. I’m proud I
belong. Yes, I belong to aFilipino Family. Do you?

If to be Friends is to be Enemies (Oration Material)

I looked for a friend; an enemy welcomed me. I searched for a chance; a war invited
me. I soared for a dream; a struggle challenged me. If to be friends is to be enemies, I
call for a war to bring peace and unity.

Great fighters, at the end, become great heroes. They may do the wrong deed but they
carry the right will. Andres Bonifacio, Emilio Aguinaldo, Ninoy Aquino are amongst the
Filipino fighters who have been the Filipino super heroes in times of crises. Manny
Pacquiao once said, “I could fight every day – if that gives peace to my country” Ladies
and gentlemen, the intention matters more than the act. What you see may not be what
it is because your eyes can be blinded; but, your heart’s desire will never be.
If your best friend, who knows your secret, could be your best enemy; then I should say
that your best enemy, who loves to pair up with you and beat you, could be your best
friend.

War, fights, competitions, games, and plays are of different heights and with different
definitions, but all have one goal – to declare winner and to offer unity afterwards. Hitler
for instance, the world’s war genius and a master of Utopia, he is a dreamer of an
impossible paradise. He once ruined the human race with of his ambitions. He has been
the renowned killer of millions of civilians and another millions of soldiers during the
Second World War. Sad – Yes! So sad to imagine the picture he included in the history.
But when you look into his objective, he just dreamt of a one-race-one-world paradise;
nevertheless, of inappropriate ways.

Manny Pacquiao, a fighter who is willing to destroy his face and break his jaw, the
notorious terminator of Mexican boxers, he who is a great fighter who becomes a great
hero of every street and every home, a hero of every child and every grown-up, and of
every Filipino people in his every fight. But with his every fight, his victory leads his
nation to a joyous celebration from Basco to Jolo. His victory leads him to build a
community of friends from the Latin America to Europe, to Mainland America to Asia.
He is a fighter and he is a hero.

The Philippine Azkals also aimed to unite the country with their game. Their primary
objective is, of course, to win their game but they also wanted to inspire the Filipino
people to face the globe and take the spot light. Now, they’ve placed the country into a
greater heights; they’ve awaken many Filipinos to dream higher; they’ve inspired our
children to be a fighter and to be a hero.

On the other side of the battlefield, Charice Pempengco, Lea Salonga, and Shamcey
Supsup work and win their every act in the international scene. They searched and
joined auditions. They won their every challenge. Now, they represent the country with
their world class talents. Truly, that with great intention one could possiblize
impossibles.

Co-contenders, respected coaches, panel of judges, our dear spectators, we are here
today not to defeat our opponents; we are here today not to oppress one’s rights; we
are here not to declare superiority against someone. We must be here to be sisters and
brothers; we must be here to create larger circle of friends; we must be here to offer
unity; remember, we are here to promote friendship, camaraderie, oneness, and
benevolence towards one another.

Look outside this hall. See our fighters in the field. Do you see their smiles? Do you see
how happy are they? Ladies and gentlemen, if to meet friends is to meet enemies, if to
see chance is to see war, if to reach for a dream is to struggle for a challenge. Then
let’s go for it – then we could be families later. Let us promote goodwill through sports
and socio-cultural activities! Good day!
Great Orators
The word “oration” comes from the Latin word “oratio” for “speech” and “orare” for “to plead,
speak, or pray.” It is a speech that is usually elaborate and dignified. The word “oratory”
refers to the art of public speaking. An “orator” is a public speaker.
Some of the greatest orators of recent times include:
 Martin Luther King
 Adolf Hitler
 Abraham Lincoln
 John F. Kennedy
 Barack Obama
 Bill Clinton
 Ronald Reagan
 Winston Churchill
 Tony Blair
 Charles de Gaulle
 Gandhi
 Margaret Thatcher
Examples of oration go back to the ancient Greek civilization.
 Plato and Aristotle were well known orators and the art of public speaking was taught
for use in court, politics, or any time the need arose.
The Romans took this skill and added to its instruction the study of grammar and how to
prepare speeches, as well as studies in the humanities. They added humor to the speeches
and it evolved into a form of entertainment with skilled orators making a good living.

DECLAMATION
"Bad Girl" Hey! Every Body seems to be staring at me.. You! You! All of you! How dare you to stare at
me? Why? Is it because I’m a bad girl? A bad girl I am, A good for nothing teen ager, a problem child?
That’s what you call me! I smoke. I drink. I gamble at my young tender age. I lie. I cheat, and I could even
kill, if I have too. Yes, I’m a bad girl, but where are my parents? You! You! You are my good parents? My
good elder brother & sister in this society were I live? Look…look at me…What have you done to me?
You have pampered and spoiled me, neglected me when I needed you most! In trusted me to a yaya,
whose intelligent was much lower than mine! While you go about your parties, your meetings and
gambling sessions… Thus… I drifted away from you! Longing for a fathers love, yearning for a mothers
care! As I grow up, everything change! You too have change! You spent more time in your pokers,
mahjong tables, bars and night clubs. You even landed on the headline of the news paper as crook,
peddlers and racketeers. Now, you call my name; accuse me in everything I do to myself? Tell me! How
good you are? If you really wish to ensure my future Then hurry….hurry back home! Where I await you,
because I need you… Protect me from all evil influences that will threaten at my very own
understanding… But if I am bad, really bad…then, you’ve got to help me! Help me! Oh please…Help me!

The Rich Man and the Poor Man

This is another popular piece that has been delivered in declamation contests time and time again. It
is a dialogue between two men: the selfish rich and the begging poor. It is, perhaps, memorable for
this line: "Eat, drink, and be merry. For tomorrow you shall die!"

“Food and money I give to you,

Why do you shout so mercilessly
When I give you your part?”
queried the rich man.
The poor man replied:
“Your question you cannot answer
For from pain and agony you are free,
But I have suffered and borne
The situation that I don’t like to be in.”
“That I couldn’t understand
Because life for me is easy;
I take this and take that,
And life is just what I want it to be.”
consented the rich man.
“Comfort your mind, rich man,
with realities of death.
Your wealth I do not envy
For you cannot buy
eternity with money.
If to live happily
is to live in hypocrisy,
Then I prefer to be silly
so I would be holy.
Life you love so much you will lose
And only then will you understand
What agony is,” the poor man shouted.
“Ha! Ha! Ha! You say so
For you desire this place of mine.
Indulgence you have clouded with reason
But I understand because of your situation.”
boastfully the rich man said.

Outraged the poor man answered:

“How pitiful the person blinded with pleasure;
No, you don’t care of our journey
That you have created through your greediness.
Come now, man of weak soul!
Your days are numbered for you to face
The Man of Love.
You may not cry now but later you will
When the chilling reality of the last judgment
Comes across your way;
Yes, then you will pity, but not for me.
Not for anybody else.
But for yourself only!
Yes, eat, drink, and be merry.
For tomorrow you shall die!
"If--" by Rudyard Kipling
"If" is written in 1895 by British Nobel laureate Rudyard Kipling, as a tribute to Leander Starr
Jameson. The poem is a favorite in the literary circles because it clearly communicates life advice
that a parent would bestow on his child.
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!

The Charge of the Light Brigade

"The Charge of the Light Brigade" by Lord Tennyson is sometimes used as a speech choir piece.
This narrative poem written by Lord Alfred Tennyson as a dedication to the Charge of the Light
Brigade at the Battle of Balaclava during the Crimean War. This poem expresses the bravery and
honor displayed the cavalry, even at the risk of their own lives and the threat of imminent death.

1.
Half a league, half a league,
Half a league onward,
All in the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
"Forward, the Light Brigade!
"Charge for the guns!" he said:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.

2.
"Forward, the Light Brigade!"
Was there a man dismay'd?
Not tho' the soldier knew
Someone had blunder'd:
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to do and die:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
3.
Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon in front of them
Volley'd and thunder'd;
Storm'd at with shot and shell,
Boldly they rode and well,
Into the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of Hell
Rode the six hundred.

4.

Flash'd all their sabres bare,

Flash'd as they turn'd in air,
Sabring the gunners there,
Charging an army, while
All the world wonder'd:
Plunged in the battery-smoke
Right thro' the line they broke;
Cossack and Russian
Reel'd from the sabre stroke
Shatter'd and sunder'd.
Then they rode back, but not
Not the six hundred.
5.

Cannon to right of them,

Cannon to left of them,
Cannon behind them
Volley'd and thunder'd;
Storm'd at with shot and shell,
While horse and hero fell,
They that had fought so well
Came thro' the jaws of Death
Back from the mouth of Hell,
All that was left of them,
Left of six hundred.
6.

When can their glory fade?

O the wild charge they made!
All the world wondered.
Honor the charge they made,
Honor the Light Brigade,
Noble six hundred.

Am I to Be Blamed?
This is a moving piece about a young girl arrested for stealing. She pleads her case to the police
officers and tells her life story.
They're chasing me, they're chasing, no they must not catch me, I have enough money now, yes
enough for my starving mother and brothers.
Please let me go, let me go home before you imprison me.
Very well, officers? Take me to your headquarters. Good morning captain! no captain, you are
mistaken, I was once a good girl, just like the rest of you here. Just like any of your daughters. But
time was, when I was reared in slums. But we lived honestly, we lived honestly in life. My, father,
mother, brothers, sisters, and I. But then, poverty entered the portals of our home. My father became
jobless, my mother got ill. The small savings that my mother had kept for our expenses were spent.
All for our daily needs and her needed medicine.
One night, my father went out, telling us that he would come back in a few minutes with plenty of
food and money, but that was the last time I saw him. He went with another woman. If only I could
lay my hands on his neck I would wring it without pain until he breathes no more. If you were in my
place, you'll do it, wouldn't you Captain? What? You won't still believe in me? Come and I'll show you
a dilapidated shanty by a railroad.
Mother, mother I'm home. Mother? Mother?! There Captain, see my dead mother. Captain? There
are tears in your eyes? Now pack this stolen money and return it to the owner. What good would this
do to my mother now? She's already gone! Do you hear me? She's already gone. Am I to be blamed
for the things I have done?

"The Tell-Tale Heart" by Edgar Allan Poe

The Tell-Tale Heart (one of my personal favorites) is written by Edgar Allan Poe, one of America's
prominent writers of the Romantic movement. The piece is long, but filled with drama and raw
emotion. It tells about someone who killed an old man because he (or she for all we know) was
haunted by the old man's "vulture-eye". The narrator or persona of the tale tries to convince the
reader that he is NOT crazy and is justified in killing the old man. However, at the end of the tale, the
persona is driven to confessing his own crime because he "heard" the beating of the old man's heart
(having hidden the body below the floorboards) and is convinced that the police officers have also
heard the loud beating of the old man's tell-tale heart.
The piece can easily be found in full elsewhere online, but here is a taste:
"TRUE! nervous, very, very dreadfully nervous I had been and am; but why WILL you say that I am
mad? The disease had sharpened my senses, not destroyed, not dulled them. Above all was the
sense of hearing acute. I heard all things in the heaven and in the earth. I heard many things in hell.
How then am I mad? Hearken! and observe how healthily, how calmly, I can tell you the whole story.
It is impossible to say how first the idea entered my brain, but, once conceived, it haunted me day
and night. Object there was none. Passion there was none. I loved the old man. He had never
wronged me. He had never given me insult. For his gold I had no desire. I think it was his eye! Yes, it
was this! One of his eyes resembled that of a vulture -- a pale blue eye with a film over it. Whenever
it fell upon me my blood ran cold, and so by degrees, very gradually, I made up my mind to take the
life of the old man, and thus rid myself of the eye for ever.
Now this is the point. You fancy me mad. Madmen know nothing. But you should have seen me. You
should have seen how wisely I proceeded -- with what caution -- with what foresight, with what
dissimulation, I went to work! I was never kinder to the old man than during the whole week before I
killed him."

Land of Bondage, Land of the Free

This is written by Raul S. Manglapus and is about the oppression of the Filipino farmers during the
Spanish colonization. However, the piece can also be interpreted as a nation's continuing fight
against its oppressors in any era. This is a very passionate piece. The last few lines will make your
blood rush with honor and pride.

Again, this piece is a longer one (though not as long "The Tell-Tale Heart"). You can easily find it in
full, but here is an excerpt to give you a feel:
"Once upon a time, the tao owned a piece of land. It was all he owned. But he cherished it, for it
gave him three things, having which, he was content: life, first of all, and liberty, and happiness.
Then one day the Spaniard came and commanded him to pay tribute to the crown of Spain. The tao
paid tribute. And he was silent — he was certain that he was still the master of his land.
The Spaniard became rich. But with riches, evil entered into him and he came to the tao a second
time. He read to the tao a formidable document saying: “According to this decreto real, which
unfortunately you cannot read, this that you have been paying me is not tribute but rent, for the land
is not yours but mine.” The tao paid tribute and said nothing … He ceased to be a freeman. He
became a serf. Still the tao held his peace. The rent went up and up. The tao starved.
And this time at last he spoke. Not in words, but with that rustic instrument with which he cleared the
land once his own — the bolo. He transformed it from an instrument of tillage to an instrument of
death, and with it drove away the stranger."

O Captain! My Captain!
This poem by Walt Whitman is a memorable one that many students deliver. Dedicated to Abraham
Lincoln, this poem talks about a fallen captain who would no longer be around to witness the clear
waters and solid land that his ship has come upon after weathering tumultuous waves and tempests.
This is a sad poem, expressing the grievance of a people who have lost their leader.
I have included the first stanza here, but take a look at the Poetry Foundation for a copy of the poem
that is correctly formatted; as you will be able to see, it does make a difference.
O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,
The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won,
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.

A Psalm of Life
"The Psalm of Life" is a poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (another personal favorite) that
expresses a beautiful message of life: to make use of our time on earth, to pursue dreams, and just
LIVE!
Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream!
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.

Life is real! Life is earnest!

And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,

Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each to-morrow
Find us farther than to-day.

Art is long, and Time is fleeting,

And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.

In the world’s broad field of battle,

In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle!
Be a hero in the strife!

Trust no Future, howe’er pleasant!

Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act,— act in the living Present!
Heart within, and God o’erhead!

Lives of great men all remind us

We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time;

Footprints, that perhaps another,

Sailing o’er life’s solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.

Let us, then, be up and doing,

With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.
Shakespeare's Sonnets
Of course, if the teacher allows, then Shakespearean sonnets are your to-go pieces! Filled with
passion and romance, Shakespeare's works are always a joy to deliver. Sonnet 116 is considered
the most romantic sonnet that sums up everything that loving a person entails. Here are just two of
Shakespeare's amazing sonnets.
SONNET 116

Let me not to the marriage of true minds

Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no; it is an ever-fixed mark,
That looks on tempests, and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
SONNET 18

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?

Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature's changing course, untrimm'd;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st;
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
Here's Tom Hiddleston (aka Marvel's Loki) reading Sonnet 18.

"How do I love thee? Let me count the ways..."

Of course, we also have to mention Elizabeth Barrett Browning's sonnets, one of which is "Sonnet
43: How do I love thee? Let me count the ways," a romantic and poetic declaration of unconditional
love.

Sonnet XLIII

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday's
Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.
I love thee freely, as men might strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints,–I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life!–and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

Declamation Piece: The Torch of Life

There’s a breathless hush in the close tonight:
Ten to make and the match to win –

A bumping pitch and a blinding light,

An hour to play and the last man in.

And it’s not for the sake of a ribboned coat,
Or the selfish hope of a season’s fame,
But his captain’s hand on his shoulder smote:

“Play up! Play up! And play the game!”

The sand of the desert is sodden red,

Red with the wreck of a square that broke;

The gatling’s jammed and the colonel dead,
And the regiment blind with dust and smoke.

The river of death has brimmed his banks,

And England’s far, and Honor a name,

But the voice of a Schoolboy rallies the ranks:

“Play up! Play up! And play the game!”

This is the word that year by year,

While in her place the school is set,
Every one of her sons must hear,

And none that hears it dare forget.

This they all with a joyful mind.

Bear through life like a torch in flame,

And falling fling to the host behind:

“Play up! Play up! And play the game!”

"MEMORIES"
Nothing compares to having a family, a complete, happy family. I am proud to have had one.
Unforgettable memories of a sweet childhood, growing up with pure love and affection, so many
people wanted to have. I was nourished with hope, that someday I'll have something more than I've
expected.

My parents gave me everything. They wanted me to have the best of endless possibilities. I owe my
life to them. I am nothing without them. They are the reason why I have a fighting spirit, to finish
what I've started, to give my best everytime and never give up in times of troubles.

It was my time to serve them. I am young and free, but why should I push myself to this
responsibility? Why?.....because in this life, you can never tell when your closing ceremony is about
to arrive. But it was over before I've started.
"God, why did you take them from me?"

"You're so unfair!"

"Why them?"

"Take me instead!"

They were gone. I am now alone. I can honestly say, I am nothing. I don't have them anymore.
"God, please give me a chance to embrace them for the last time."

But I know it isn't possible. I've had a lot chances. I just didn't make the best of it. Life is really full of
surprises , not always good ones, some are worth tears. Deep inside my heart, I am longing. But I
should move on with my life. Nothing could bring them back. If the stairway to heaven is for real, I
would use it no matter how far it would take me. If that's the only chance, then I am ready.
I salute those parents who have given their all. The most selfless people you would ever know.
Nothing compares to the love you have given. The perfect friends, there's nothing less.

One day, we shall meet again. Excitement fills my broken heart. Only you could complete me. So,
when I see you, I know you're holding the missing piece.