Lord, Thou 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, 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 swiftly.
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 grace
enough to enjoy the tales of others’ pains,
but help me to endure them with patience.
I dare not ask for improved memory,
but for a growing humility
and 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 sour old person –
some of them are so hard to live with
and each one a crowning work 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.
Amen.
17th Century Prayer, Author Unknown