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In view of today's WT and the coming studies- a poem by a Crabby Old Man


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Crabby Old Man
July 31, 2010 at 3:53pm
 
PublicFriendsOnly MeCustomFamilySpiritual FamilySee all lists...news feedBountiful, Utah AreaGo Back

When an old man died in the geriatric ward of a nursing home in North

 Platte, Nebraska , it was believed that he had nothing left of any

 value.

  Later, when the nurses were going through his meager possessions, They

 found this poem . Its quality and content so impressed the staff that

 copies were made and distributed to every nurse in the hospital .

 One nurse took her copy to Missouri. The old man's sole bequest to

 posterity has since appeared in the Christmas edition of the News

 Magazine of the St . Louis Association for Mental Health . A slide  presentation has also been made based on his simple, but eloquent,

 poem .

  And this little old man, with nothing left to give to the world, is  the

 author of this 'anonymous' poem winging across the Internet.

 

                        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 . . . . . . . I 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!!

 

 Remember this poem when you next meet an older person who you might

 brush aside without looking at the young soul within . . . . .

 

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That's why I love this series of study articles, may OUR old ones never feel anything but PRECIOUS!

 

At the end of this weeks study the conducter asked us to express how we feel about our older ones, the answers made me want to cry.  Nothing is more beautiful than grey headed faithful ones

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