O Lord, Thou knowest I am growing older! I realize it also. Keep me from closing my eyes to the fact. Keep me from becoming a pest, a self-appointed sage with the fatal habit of thinking I must say something on every subject and on every occasion. Keep me from the temptation of trying to straighten out everybody'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 Lord, Thou knowest I don't want to lose all my friends by boring them with the past.
Keep my mind free from the recital and repetition of past experiences and endless details. Seal my lips about my rheumatism and gout. My aches and pains are unceasing and rehearsing them is becoming sweeter day by day. I do not ask for improved memory, but for less cocksureness about the memory of others. Teach me to admit that sometimes I am mistaken. Keep me reasonably sweet; I do not care to be a saint (some of them are so hard to get along with). Make me sweeter and mellower as my age progresses. Let me never grow old, only older. May it be said of me, "Though our outward man perish, the inward man is renewed day by day" (2 Corinthians 4:16)
"A sour old person is the crowning work of the devil."
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