I am growing older and will soon be old. Keep me from becoming too talkative, and especially from the unfortunate habit of thinking that i must say something on every subject and at every occasion.
Keep me from the recital of endless details;
give me wings to get to the point.
Grant me the patience to listen to the complaints of others; help me to endure them with charity. But seal my lips on my own aches and pain; they increase with the increasing years and my inclination to recount them is also increasing.
I will not ask for improved memory, only for a little more humility and less cocksureness when my own memory doesn't agree with that of others. Teach me the glorious lesson that occasionally i may be wrong.
Keep me reasonably gentle. I do not have the ambition to be a saint but a bitter old person is one of the devil's masterpieces.
Make me sympathetic without being sentimental, helpful but not bossy. Let me discover merits where i had not expected them and talents in people whom i had not thought to possess any. And give me grace to tell them so.