we will all, one day, be there, too!

Happy Tuesday, I am still not feeling the best so I am going to make this a quickie this morning....duh afternoon. I have a very important and special prayer request if you please. A very special person in Wayde's life had surgery this morning for a recurring cancer in the bladder, it seems to really like coming back and back and back again. I ask that you lift prayers that this be the last time that this happens, that the surgeons are able to get the very core of this growth and that once and for all it be gone. I ask for a speedy recovery and for pain control. I so appreciate you prayers as always and stand as witness to the miracles that I have seen because of them. God is amazing, he loves each of us so much and is always eager to hear from us. Love in Christ to each of you. Father God, bless us this day with the healing of this special man, bless him with peace, calm, comfort and abundant love, In the name of Jesus Christ we ask this favor and mercy. Amen. 

You know me always searching for writings that touch my  heart and make me think...today I share this and I pray that you will take time to read it...it is so true, one day we will be there and I know I will want someone to see my soul and not just my worn out old shell! 

in the geriatric ward of a nursing

home in North Platte , Nebraska , it was believed that he had nothing left of

any value. Later, when the nurses were going through his  meager

possessions, They found this poem. Its quality and content so impressed the staff that

copies were made and distributed to every nurse  in the hospital.

One nurse took her copy to Missouri . The old man's sole bequest to

posterity has since appeared in the Christmas edition of the News Magazine of the

St. Louis Association for Mental Health. A slide  presentation has also

been made based on his simple, but eloquent, poem.  And this little old man,

with nothing left to give to the world, is now  the author of this 'anonymous'

poem winging across the Internet.  Crabby Old Man

What do you see nurses? .  . What do you see?

What are you thinking . . . . when you're looking  at me?

A crabby old man, . . . . . not very wise,

Uncertain of  habit . . . ... with faraway eyes?

Who dribbles his food . .  . . . ... and makes no reply .

When you say in a loud voice . .. . .  "I do wish you'd try!"

Who seems not to notice . .. . the things  that you do.

And forever is losing . . . . . . . a sock or a shoe?

Who, resisting or not . .. . . . lets you do as you will,

With bathing and feeding. .. . . the long day to fill?

Is that  what you're thinking? . . Is that what you see?

Then open your eyes,  nurse . . . you're not looking at me..

I'll tell you who I am. .  . as I sit here so still,

As I do at your bidding, . . . as I eat at  your will.

I'm a small child of ten . .. with a father and mother,

Brothers and sisters . . . . . . who love one another.

A  young boy of sixteen . . . . with wings on his feet

Dreaming that  soon now . . . . . a lover he'll meet..

A groom soon at twenty .. .  . .my heart gives a leap.

Remembering, the vows . .. . that I  promised to keep.

At twenty-five, now . . . . . I have young of  my own.

Who need me to guide . . and a secure happy home.

A man  of thirty . . . . . . My young now grown fast,

Bound to each other .  . . With ties that should last.

At forty, my young sons . . .  have grown and are gone,

But my woman's beside me . . .. to see I  don't mourn.

At fifty, once more, . . babies play 'round my knee,

Again, we know children . .. . My loved one and me.

Dark  days are upon me . . . .my wife is now dead.

I look at the future .  . .. . .. shudder with dread..

For my young are all rearing . . .  young of their own.

And I think of the years,. and the love that  I've known.

I'm now an old man . . . . . and nature is cruel.

'Tis jest to make old age .. . . look like a fool.

The body, it  crumbles ... . grace and vigor, depart.

There is now a stone . .. .  where I once had a heart.

But inside this old carcass . . . a  young guy still dwells,

And now and again .. . . . my battered heart  swells.

I remember the joys . . . .. . I remember the pain.

And  I'm loving and living . . . . . . life over again.

I think of  the years, all too few . .. . gone too fast.

And accept the stark  fact . . . that nothing can last.

So open your eyes, people .. . .  .. . open and see.

Not a crabby old man. Look closer .. .. see  ME!!

Remember this poem when you next meet an older person who you might brush aside without looking at the young soul  within .. . . . we will all, one day, be there, too!  The best and most beautiful things of this world can't be seen or  touched.. They must be felt by the heart.  God Bless All who read this Poem.