Reader suggests material for column
I walked out of the house with Marc Guy from church, who took me shopping. Every week I go shopping with a young man to help me out. Not bad for an old lady.
Anyway, there on my steps stood a young lady with a happy smile on her face. She was looking for me. She had some material that she thought would fit well in my column. She said, “Don’t use my name.” That was the easy part, because she never gave it to me.
She was right about the material. I loved it, so I’m passing it on to you. It’s great! What a week I’ve had! So much appreciation of the column from both men and women. She said there are a lot of good people out there searching for that kind of reading. I hope you’ll enjoy it as I did. Here goes.
On This Day
Mend a quarrel. Search out a forgotten friend. Dismiss suspicion, and replace it with trust. Write a love letter. Share some treasure. Give a soft answer. Encourage youth. Manifest your loyalty in a word or deed.
Keep a promise. Find the time. Forego a grudge. Forgive an enemy. Listen. Apologize if you were wrong. Try to understand. Flout envy. Examine your demands on others. Think first about someone else. Appreciate, be kind, be gentle. Laugh a little more.
Deserve confidence. Take up arms against malice. Decry complacency. Express your gratitude. Worship your God. Gladden the heart of a child. Take pleasure in the beauty and wonder of the earth. Speak your love. Speak it again. Speak it still again. Speak it still once again.
I’M FINE — THANK YOU
There is nothing the matter with me,
I’m as healthy as can be,
I have arthritis in both my knees
And when I talk, I talk with a wheeze.
My pulse is weak and my blood is thin
But I’m awfully well for the shape I am in.
Arch supports I have for my feet
Or I wouldn’t be able to be on the street.
Sleep is denied me, night after night
But every morning I find I’m all right.
My memory is failing, my head’s in a spin,
But I’m awfully well for the shape I am in.
The moral is this, as this tale unfolds,
That for me and you who are getting old,
It is better to say “I’m fine,” with a grin
Than to let folks know the shape we’re in.
Old age is golden, I’ve heard it said
But sometimes I wonder as I get into bed
With my ears in the drawer, my teeth in a cup,
My eyes on the table until I wake up
Ere sleep comes over me I say to myself
“Is there anything else I could put on the shelf?”
When I was young, my slippers were red
I could kick my heels right over my head,
When I grew older my slippers were blue
But I could still dance the whole night through.
Now that I’m old my slippers are black
And I wheeze to the stove and puff my way back.
I get up each morning and dust off my wits
Pick up the paper and read the “obits”
If my name is still missing, I know I’m not dead
So I have a good breakfast and go back to bed.