Blessed are they who understand,
my faltering step and shaking hand,
Blessed, who know my ears today
must strain to catch the things they say,
Blessed are they who seem to know
my eyes are dim and my mind is slow,
Blessed are they who looked away
when tea was spilled on the cloth that day,
Blessed are they with a cheery smile,
who stopped to chat for a little while,
Blessed are they who never say .......
"You've told that story twice today",
Blessed are they who make it known,
that I'm loved, respected, and not alone,
And Blessed are they who ease the days
of my journey Home in Loving Ways.
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