Today I when searching for a poem I wrote that I did not find.:)

A Big old scrapbook and several hours later I decided what to Post.

Yesterday was Pastor appreciation Day at church. I was so blessed to see all my children, their spouses and 3 of the grandchildren there. They said “We had to come and see you get appreciated.” I am so very proud of the character of all three of my children. They know Jesus, they love and care for others, and they enjoy life.

This poem I wrote poem in the late 80’s early 90’s.

 Those were my raising teen years😊

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Silver Strands

I looked into my mirror.

& somewhat to my surprise

My hair seemed to have more silver.

I could scarcely believe my eyes.

But in that anxious moment

And in the midst of my dismay.

A voice deep inside of me

Seemed softly to say

Don’t try to wish away the silver.

Don’t cover it, or put it down.

Your just collecting silver.

 for God to make your crown

But why Lord all the sudden

Or is that just the way it seems?

He said “No you collect more silver.

In the years of raising teens.

Oh, mining is dirty work.

Much toil, yet little pay

But it’s all part of the process.

Before it’s ready for display

Each trial, and or victory

Seems to spin another strand.

God dusts each one with silver.

Like it’s all part of His plan

God says “You need each other.

So, hold the others up in prayer.

You’ll know who’s mining silver,

By the dust that’s in their hair.”

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The following is another poem. I DID NOT WRITE.

It was also in my scrapbook and thought it was well worth a share.

         Beatitudes for Friends of the Aged

~Esther Mary Walker

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.

 Origin: This poem was written in 1958.  Esther was a caregiver for her father at the time and hope it would elicit better understanding from other caregivers.

Blessings! Thanks for Reading!