CRABBY OLD MAN When an old man died in the geriatric ward of a nursing home in North Platte , Nebraska , it was believed that he had nothing left of any value. Later, when the nurses were going through his meager possessions, they found this poem. It's 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 Missouri . The old man's sole bequest to posterity has since appeared in the Christmas edition of the News Magazine of the St. Louis Association for Mental Health. A slide presentation has also been made based on his simple, but eloquent, poem.And this little old man, with nothing left to give to the world, is now the author of this 'anonymous' poem winging across the Internet. Crabby Old ManWhat do you see nurses? . . . .. . What do you see? What are you thinking . . . . . When you're looking at me?A crabby old man . . . . Not very wise,Uncertain of habit . . . . . With faraway eyes?Who dribbles his 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 sock 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 boy of Sixteen . . . . With wings on his feet.Dreaming that soon now . . . . . A lover he'll meet. A groom soon at Twenty . . . . . My heart gives a leap.Remembering, the vows . . . . . 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 man 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 woman'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 wife is now dead.I look at the future . . . . . 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 man . . . . . And nature is cruel.Tis jest to make old age .. . . .. . Look like a fool. The body, it crumbles . . . . Grace and vigor, depart.There is now a stone . .. . . Where I once had a heart.But inside this old carcass . . . . . A young guy 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 man . . ... Look closer . . . See ME!! Remember this poem when you next meet An older person who you might brush aside Without looking at the young soul within. We will all, one day, be there, too!PLEASE SHARE THIS POEM The best and most beautiful things of This world can't be seen or touched. They must be felt by the heart. You can't stay young forever ... But you can be immature for the rest of your life !
CRABBY OLD MAN When an old man died in the geriatric ward of a nursing home in North Platte , Nebraska , it was believed that he had nothing left of any value. Later, when the nurses were going through his meager possessions, they found this poem. It's 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 Missouri . The old man's sole bequest to posterity has since appeared in the Christmas edition of the News Magazine of the St. Louis Association for Mental Health. A slide presentation has also been made based on his simple, but eloquent, poem.And this little old man, with nothing left to give to the world, is now the author of this 'anonymous' poem winging across the Internet. Crabby Old ManWhat do you see nurses? . . . .. . What do you see? What are you thinking . . . . . When you're looking at me?A crabby old man . . . . Not very wise,Uncertain of habit . . . . . With faraway eyes?Who dribbles his 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 sock 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 boy of Sixteen . . . . With wings on his feet.Dreaming that soon now . . . . . A lover he'll meet. A groom soon at Twenty . . . . . My heart gives a leap.Remembering, the vows . . . . . 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 man 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 woman'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 wife is now dead.I look at the future . . . . . 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 man . . . . . And nature is cruel.Tis jest to make old age .. . . .. . Look like a fool. The body, it crumbles . . . . Grace and vigor, depart.There is now a stone . .. . . Where I once had a heart.But inside this old carcass . . . . . A young guy 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 man . . ... Look closer . . . See ME!! Remember this poem when you next meet An older person who you might brush aside Without looking at the young soul within. We will all, one day, be there, too!PLEASE SHARE THIS POEM The best and most beautiful things of This world can't be seen or touched. They must be felt by the heart.
CRABBY OLD MAN
When an old man died in the geriatric ward of a nursing home
in North Platte , Nebraska , it was believed that he had nothing left of any value.
Later, when the nurses were going through his meager possessions,
they found this poem. It's 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 Missouri . The old man's sole bequest to posterity has since appeared in
the Christmas edition of the News Magazine of the St. Louis Association
for Mental Health. A slide presentation has also been
made based on his simple, but eloquent, poem.And this little old man, with nothing left to give to the world,
is now the author of this 'anonymous' poem winging across the Internet. Crabby Old ManWhat do you see nurses? . . . .. . What do you see? What are you thinking . . . . . When you're looking at me?A crabby old man . . . . Not very wise,Uncertain of habit . . . . . With faraway eyes?Who dribbles his 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 sock 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 boy of Sixteen . . . . With wings on his feet.Dreaming that soon now . . . . . A lover he'll meet. A groom soon at Twenty . . . . . My heart gives a leap.Remembering, the vows . . . . . 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 man 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 woman'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 wife is now dead.I look at the future . . . . . 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 man . . . . . And nature is cruel.Tis jest to make old age .. . . .. . Look like a fool. The body, it crumbles . . . . Grace and vigor, depart.There is now a stone . .. . . Where I once had a heart.But inside this old carcass . . . . . A young guy 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 man . . ... Look closer . . . See ME!! Remember this poem when you next meet An older person who you might brush aside Without looking at the young soul within. We will all, one day, be there, too!PLEASE SHARE THIS POEM The best and most beautiful things of This world can't be seen or touched. They must be felt by the heart.
You can't stay young forever ... But you can be immature for the rest of your life !
The purpose of a dog! Don?t miss the text at the bottom A Dog's Purpose ? (from a 6-year-old). Being a veterinarian, I had been called to examine a ten-year-old Irish Wolfhound named Belker. The dog's owners, Ron, his wife Lisa, and their little boy Shane, were all very attached to Belker, and they were hoping for a miracle. I examined Belker and found he was dying of cancer. I told the family we couldn't do anything for Belker, and offered to perform the euthanasia procedure for the old dog in their home. As we made arrangements, Ron and Lisa told me they thought it would be good for six-year-old Shane to observe the procedure. They felt as though Shane might learn something from the experience. The next day, I felt the familiar catch in my throat as Belker 's family surrounded him. Shane seemed so calm, petting the old dog for the last time, that I wondered if he understood what was going on. Within a few minutes, Belker slipped peacefully away. The little boy seemed to accept Belker's transition without any difficulty or confusion. We sat together for a while after Belker's Death, wondering aloud about the sad fact that animal lives are shorter than human lives. Shane, who had been listening quietly, piped up, ''I know why.'' Startled, we all turned to him. What came out of his mouth next stunned me. I'd never heard a more comforting explanation. It has changed the way I try and live. He said,''People are born so that they can learn how to live a good life -- like loving everybody all the time and being nice, right?'' The Six-year-old continued, ''Well, dogs already know how to do that, so they don't have to stay as long.'' Live simply. Love generously. Care deeply. Speak kindly. Remember, if a dog was the teacher you would learn things like: When loved ones come home, always run to greet them. Never pass up the opportunity to go for a joyride. Allow the experience of fresh air and the wind in your face to be pure Ecstasy. Take naps. Stretch before rising. Run, romp, and play daily. Thrive on attention and let people touch you. Avoid biting when a simple growl will do. On warm days, stop to lie on your back on the grass. On hot days, drink lots of water and lie under a shady tree. When you're happy, dance around and wag your entire body. Delight in the simple joy of a long walk. Be loyal. Never pretend to be something you're not. If what you want lies buried, dig until you find it. When someone is having a bad day, be silent, sit close by, and nuzzle them gently. ENJOY EVERY MOMENT OF EVERY DAY!