Wood Nymph
Friends of the Aged
Blessed are they who understand
my faltering step and palsied hand.
Blessed are they who seem to know
that my eyes are dim and my wits are slow.
Blessed are they who know my ears today
must strain to catch the things they say.
Blessed are they who looked away
when my coffee spilled at the table today.
Blessed are they with a cheery smile
who stop to chat for a little while.
Blessed are they who never say,
"You've told that story twice today."
Blessed are they who know the ways
to bring back memories of yesterdays.
Blessed at they who make it known
that I'm loved and not alone.
Blessed are they who know I'm at a loss
to find the strength to carry the Cross.
Blessed are those who ease the days
on my journey Home in loving ways.
.
my faltering step and palsied hand.
Blessed are they who seem to know
that my eyes are dim and my wits are slow.
Blessed are they who know my ears today
must strain to catch the things they say.
Blessed are they who looked away
when my coffee spilled at the table today.
Blessed are they with a cheery smile
who stop to chat for a little while.
Blessed are they who never say,
"You've told that story twice today."
Blessed are they who know the ways
to bring back memories of yesterdays.
Blessed at they who make it known
that I'm loved and not alone.
Blessed are they who know I'm at a loss
to find the strength to carry the Cross.
Blessed are those who ease the days
on my journey Home in loving ways.
.
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Friends of the Aged
Friends of the Aged
