Lord, thou knowest better than I know myself that I am growing older and will someday be old. Keep me from getting talkative, and particularly from the fatal habit of thinking I must say something on every subject.
Release me from the craving to straighten out everybody else's affairs. Make me thoughtful, but not moody; helpful, but not bossy. With my vast store of wisdom it seems a pity not to use it all - but thou knowest Lord, that I want a few friends at the end.
Keep, my mind free from the recital of endless details; give me wings to get to the point. Seal my lips on my many aches and pains, they are increasing and my love of rehearsing them is becoming greater as the years go by. Teach me the glorious lesson that occasionally it is possible that I may be mistaken.
Keep me reasonably sweet; I do not want to be a saint - some of them are hard to live with - but a sour old man or woman is one of the crowning works of the devil. Help me to extract all possible fun out of life. There are so many funny things around us, and I don't want to miss any of them.
--- Author Unknown --- Sent in by Rick Seymour --- Michigan