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Lord thou Knowest me better than I know myself, that I am growing older and will someday be old.

Keep me from the fatal habit of thinking I must say something on every subject and on every occasion.  Release me from craving to straighten out everybody’s affairs.

Make me thoughtful but not moody, helpful but not too 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 final point.

I dare not ask for improved memory, but for a growing humility and a lessening cocksureness when my memory seems to clash with the memories of others. Teach me the glorious lesson that occasionally 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… well never mind.

Give me the ability to see good things in unexpected places, and talents in unexpected people.

Amen

(Mother Superior-A seventeenth century nun’s prayer)

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times as some areas are still under construction, therefore a risk of falling debris.

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