Blessed are they who undersand my faltering step and palsied hand
Blessed are they who know that my ears today must strain to catch the things they say
Blessed are they that seem to know that my eyes are too dim and my wits are slow
Blessed are they who looked away when coffee spilled at the table today
Blessed are they with a cheery smile, who stopped to chat for a little while
Blessed are they who never say, "You told that story twice today"
Blessed are they who know what to say to bring back memories of yesterday
Blessed are they who make it known that I'm loved, respected and not alone
Blessed are they who know that I'm at a loss to find the strength to carry a cross
Blessed are those who ease the days on my journey home in loving way
by Hazel Graham
printed in the Gwinnett Daily News
(a long time ago)
