Crabby Old Woman

[Guest guest]

Crabby

Old Woman

When an

old lady died in the geriatric ward of a small hospital near Dundee, Scotland,

it was believed that she had nothing left of any value.

Later,

when the nurses were going through her meager possessions, they found this poem.

Its quality and content so impressed the staff that copies were made and

distributed to every nurse in the hospital.

One

nurse took her copy to Ireland.

The old

lady's sole bequest to posterity has since appeared in the Christmas edition of

the News Magazine of the North Ireland Assn. For Mental Health.

A slide

presentation has also been made based on her simple, but eloquent poem.

And

this little old Scottish lady, with nothing left to give to the world, is now the

author of this " anonymous " poem winging across the Internet:

 

 

 

"What

do you see, nurses? What do you see?

What

are you thinking, when you're looking at me?

A

crabby old woman, not very wise,

Uncertain

of habit, with faraway eyes.

Who

dribbles her food, and makes no reply,

When

you say in a loud voice, " I do wish you'd try! "

Who

seems not to notice, the things that you do,

And

forever is losing, a stocking or shoe

Who,

resisting or not lets you do as you will,

With

bathing and feeding, the long day to fill?

Is that

what you're thinking? Is that what you see?

Then

open your eyes, nurse, you're not looking at me.

 

I'll

tell you who I am, as I sit here so still,

As I do

at your bidding, as I eat at your will.

I'm a

small child of ten, with a father and mother,

Brothers

and sisters, who love one another.

A young

girl of sixteen, with wings on her feet,

Dreaming

that soon now, a lover she'll meet.

A bride

soon at twenty, my heart gives a leap,

And a

vow that I made that I promised to keep.

 

 

At

twenty-five now, I have young of my own,

Who

need me to guide, and a secure happy home.

A woman

of thirty, my young now grown fast,

Bound

to each other, with ties that should last.

At

forty, my young sons, have grown and are gone,

But my

man's beside me, to see I don't mourn.

 

At

fifty once more, babies play round my knee,

Again

we know children, my loved one and me.

Dark

days are upon me, my husband is dead,

I look

at the future, I shudder with dread.

For my

young are all rearing young of their own,

And I

think of the years, and the love that I've known.

 

I'm now

an old woman, and nature is cruel,

'Tis

jest to make old age, look like a fool.

The

body, it crumbles, grace and vigour depart,

There

is now a stone where I once had a heart.

But

inside this old carcass, a young girl still dwells,

And now

and again, my battered heart swells.

 

I

remember the joys, I remember the pain,

And I'm

loving and living Life over again.

I think

of the years, all too few, gone too fast,

And

accept the stark fact that nothing can last.

So open

your eyes, people, open and see,

Not a

crabby old woman; Look closer - see ME!"

 

 

 

Remember

this poem when you next meet an old person who you might brush aside without

looking at the young soul within.

 

# <http://rootznwingz.blogspot.com/2006/03/crabby-old-woman.html>

posted

by Lady

Broadoak @ 3:27 PM 0 comments

<http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21280341 & postID=114160154570823438>

 

 

 

Radiating

UNCONDITIONAL LOVE & Truth

To

ALL who share our circle – our universe, our love, our trust.

May

I always be found worthy.

Gratitude

& Thankfulness to All of Us

a

SoaringHawk

Look at everything as though you were seeing it either for the

first or last time. Then your time on earth will be filled with joy &

glory.

 

Thank you for YOU!