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 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 ! !

Anonymous

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!

Lessons from a Dragonfly

Sunday morning I went to the kitchen to make the coffee and as I turned on the light I noticed a dragonfly buzzing toward the light fixture. I continued setting up the coffee pot and once I started it brewing I got a ladder so I could get closer to the dragonfly.

I tried catching it with my fingers...I thought if only I could gently hold on to it I could set it free. That didn't work ...probably would have pinched off a wing had I succeeded...they are so delicate. It flew toward the light then rested then flew again. I was concerned that it was going to fry if it continued to fly into the light bulb. Finally, I decided to hold out my hand close to the light in order to give it another resting place...it lit on my hand and I was able to carry it outside to safety.

The dragonfly just needed to trust that my hand was better than constantly knocking against the light fixture and getting nowhere. That's how it is with our Heavenly Father...it's much better to rest in His hands.

Matthew 11:28-29 Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowely in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls.