17th Century Nun

I found this letter, written by a 17th Century Nun. It fit so well with my previous post, I thought I'd include it...

Lord,

You know better than I know myself that I am getting older and will someday be old. Keep me from getting talkative, and from the fatal habit of thinking I must say something on every subject and on every occasion. Release me from the craving to straighten out every body's affairs. Make me thoughtful, but not moody; helpful but not bossy. With my vast store of wisdom it seems a pity not to use it all, but you know Lord, that I want a few friends in the end.

Keep my mind from the recital of endless details, give me wings to come to the point. I ask for grace enough to listen to the tales of others pains. But seal my lips on my own aches and pains, they are increasing and my love of reciting them is becoming sweeter as the years go by. Help me to endure with patience.

I dare not ask for an improved memory, but for a growing humility and a lessening cock sureness when my memory seems to clash with the memories of others. Teach me the glorious lesson that occasionally it is possible that I may be mistaken.

Keep me reasonably sweet. I do not want to be a saint, some of them are so hard to live with- but a sour old woman is one of the crowning works of the devil.

Give me the ability to see good in unexpected places and talents in unexpected people and give me, Oh Lord, the grace to tell them so...