
Lord, thou knowest better than myself
that I am growing older and will soon be old.
Keep me from becoming too talkative,
and especially from the unfortunate habit
of thinking that I must say something
on every subject and at every opportunity.
Release me from the idea
that I must straighten out other peoples’ affairs.
With my immense treasure of experience and wisdom,
it seems a pity not to let everybody partake of it.
But thou knowest, Lord,
that in the end I will need a few friends.
Keep me from the recital of endless details;
give me wings to get to the point.
Grant me the patience
to listen to the complaints of others;
help me to endure them with charity.
But seal my lips on my own aches and pains —
they increase with the increasing years
and my inclination to recount them is also increasing.
I will not ask thee for improved memory,
only for a little more humility
and less self-assurance
when my own memory doesn’t agree with that of others.
Teach me the glorious lesson that occasionally I may be wrong.
Keep me reasonably gentle.
I do not have the ambition to become a saint –
– it is so hard to live with some of them –
– but a harsh old person is one of the devil’s masterpieces.
Make me sympathetic without being sentimental,
helpful but not bossy.
Let me discover merits where I had not expected them,
and talents in people whom I had not thought to possess any.
And, Lord, give me the grace to tell them so.
Amen
Margot Benary-Isbert
Photo by Woodland Gnome