Let me do my work each day; and if the darkened hours of despair overcome me, may I not forget the strength that comforted me in the desolation of other times. May I still remember the bright hours that found me walking over the silent hills of my childhood, or dreaming on the margin of the quiet river, when a light glowed within me, and I promised my early God to have courage amid the tempests of the changing years. Spare me from bitterness and from the sharp passions of unguarded moments. May I not forget that poverty and riches are of the spirit. Though the world know me not, may my thoughts and actions be such as shall keep me friendly with myself. Lift my eyes from the earth, and let me not forget the uses of the stars. Forbid that I should judge others lest I condemn myself. Let me not follow the clamor of the world, but walk calmly in my path. Give me a few friends who will love me for what I am, and keep ever burning before my vagrant steps the kindly light of hope. And though age and infirmity overtake me, and I come not within sight of the castle of my dreams, teach me still to be thankful for life, and for time’s olden memories that are good and sweet; and may the evening’s twilight find me gentle still.
~ from the poems of Max Ehrmann
*Max Ehrmann was a poet and attorney of German American descent, born and raised in Indiana, and best known for his prose poem Desiderata which – which I was ten or so – was set to music and read by Les Crane (who dat?) with which recording my mother fell in love. At one time I almost knew the durned thang by heart. This poem, however, was published in 1906 and was one that my paternal grandmother kept a copy of on her desk, which copy found its way to my dad’s desk, where I found it (again) after his death. I’d seen it on my gram’s table, but never asked her about it, but then, it speaks for itself, doesn’t it? It’s a prayer of acceptance and gratitude, I think. I love it, and so share it with you.