Lord, keep me from the habit of thinking I must say something on every subject and on every
occasion.
Keep my mind free from the recital of endless details, give me wings to get to the point.
I ask for grace enough to listen to the tales of others' pains. Help me to endure them with patience.
But seal my lips on my own aches and pains. They are increasing, and my love of rehashing them is becoming sweeter 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 so hard to live with, but a sour old person is one of the crowning works of a life gone
astray.
Give me the ability to see good things in unexpected places, and talents in unexpected people.
And give me, O Lord, the grace to tell them so.
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 You know, Lord, that I would like to have a few friends left until the end.
