Thou knowest better than I 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 but 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 free from the recital 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 years go by.
I dare not ask for improved memory,
but for a growing humility and a lessening cock-sureness
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, for a sour old person
is one of the crowning works of the devil.
Give me the ability to see good things in unexpected places
and talents in unexpected people;
and give, O Lord, the grace to tell them so.
What Others Think of Me
Two seniors citizens were talking about
the wisdom and humility that comes with age.
“When I was young I was very proud. My pride caused me more worry!
I was constantly worrying about what other people thought about me.
When I got older and wiser,
I said to myself, “I don’t care what they think about me.”
And now that I’m even older and
I realize they weren’t thinking about me at all.
[Funny Times is a humor magazine with cartoons and columnists that make you laugh, moan, scream and cry. They are kind enough to allow me to reprint the occasional cartoon. Of course, humor — like beauty — is often in the eye or ear of the beholder.]