The Beatitudes
according to the residents of a retirement home in Yangon, Myanmar
Blessed are they
who understand my faltering steps and shaky hand
Blessed are they
who know that my ears must strain to catch the words they say
Blessed are they
who seem to know that my eyes are dim and my wits slow
Blessed are they
who looked away when coffee spilled today
Blessed are they
who with a cheery smile stop to chat for a while
Blessed are they
who never say 'You've told that story twice today!'
Blessed are they
who know the ways to bring back lovely yesterdays
Blessed are they
who make it known that I am loved, not left alone
Blessed are they
who give me strength to bear my cross
Blessed are they
who ease the days on my journey home in so many ways.
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