You know that each day I am growing older and someday may be very old,
so meanwhile please keep from the habit of thinking I must say something on every subject and on every occasion.

Release me from trying to straighten out everyone’s affairs..
Make me thoughtful, but not moody.
Helpful , but not over-bearing.

I’ve a certain amount of knowledge to share; still it would be very nice
to have a few friends who, at the end, recognized and forgave the knowledge
I lacked.

Keep my tongue free from the recital of endless details.
Seal my lips on my aches and pains.
(They increase daily and the need to speak of them becomes almost a compulsion)

I ask for grace enough to listen to the retelling of others’ afflictions,
and to be helped to endure them with patience.

I would like to have improved memory, but I’ll settle for growing humility and
an ability to capitulate when my memory clashes with the memory of others.

Teach me the glorious lesson that on some occasions I may be mistaken.

Keep me reasonably kind. I’ve never aspired to be a saint.....saints
must be rather difficult to live with.....yet on the other hand,
an embittered old person is a constant burden.

Please give me the ability to see good in unlikely places and talents in
unexpected people. And please give me the grace to tell them so, Dear Lord.