Anonymous Poem

An Anonymous Prayer from England

17th. century

Lord, thy knowest better than I know myself

that I am growing older and will someday be old.

Keep me from the fatal habit of thinking I must say

something on every subject and, on every occasion.

Release me from craving to straighten out

everybody's affairs.

 Make me thoughtful but not moody, helpful not bossy,

With my vast store of wisdom it

seems a pity not to use it all.

But, Thou knowest Lord

that I want a few friends at the end.

Keep my mind from the recitals of endless details.

Give me wings to get to the point.

Seal my lips on my aches and pains.

They are increasing and love of rehearsing them

is becoming sweeter as the time goes by.

I do not ask for Grace enough to enjoy the tales

of other's pain but, help me endure them with patience.

 I dare not ask for improved memory, but, for a

growing humility & a lessening cocksureness

when my memory seems to clash

with the memories of others.

Teach me the glorious lesson

that occasionally I may be mistaken.

Keep me reasonably sweet

I do not want to be a Saint.

Some of them are so hard to live with.

But, a sour person is the works of the Devil.

Give me the ability to see good things in

unexpected places

and talents in unexpected people.

And, give me, O Lord, the Grace to tell them so!

I am indebted to Richie Mommers of Brownfield, ME for sharing this wonderful poem.  It perfectly expresses my current hopes and dreams.