… men när jag hörde den här dikten visste jag att jag måste skriva ner den. Så fin.
Blessed are they who understand
My faltering step and shaking hand
Blessed, who know my ears today
Must strain to hear the things they say.
Blessed are those who seem to know
My eyes are dim and my mind is slow
Blessed are those who look away
When I spilled tea that weary day.
Blessed are they who, with cheery smile
Stopped to chat for a little while
Blessed are they who know the way
To bring back memories of yesterday.
Blessed are those who never say
”You’ve told that story twice today”
Blessed are they who make it known
That I am loved, respected and not alone.
And blessed are they who will ease the days
Of my journey home, in loving ways.