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When an old man died in the geriatric ward of a small hospital near Tampa, Florida,

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. Its 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 Man

What 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 dead,

I look at the future, .............. I 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!

Authors Unknown to Us

The next time you feel like GOD can't use you, just remember...

Noah was a drunk

Abraham was too old

Isaac was a daydreamer

Jacob was a liar

Leah was ugly

Joseph was abused

Moses had a stuttering problem

Gideon was afraid

Samson had long hair and was a womanizer

Rahab was a prostitute

Jeremiah and Timothy were too young

David had an affair and was a murderer

Elijah was suicidal

Isaiah preached naked

Jonah ran from God

Naomi was a widow

Job went bankrupt

Peter denied Christ

The Disciples fell asleep while praying

Martha worried about everything

Mary Magdalene was, well you know

The Samaritan woman was divorced, more than once

Zaccheus was too small

Paul was too religious

Timothy had an ulcer..AND

Lazarus was dead!

Now! No more excuses! God can use you to your full potential. Besides you aren't the message, you are just the messenger. In the Circle of God's love, God's waiting to use your full potential.

Author Unknown to Us

Subject: "Retarded" Grandparents

A teacher asked her young pupils how they spent their vacation. One child wrote the following:

We always used to spend the holidays with grandma and grandpa. They used to live here in a big, brick house, but grandpa got retarded and they moved to Florida, and now they live in a place with a lot of other retarded people. They live in a tin box and have rocks painted green to look like grass. They ride around on big tricycles and wear nametags because they don't know who they are anymore! They go to a building called a wrecked center, but they must have got it fixed because it is all right now.

They play games and do exercises there, but they don't do them very well. There is a swimming pool too, but they all jump up and down in it with their hats on. I guess they don't know how to swim. At their gate, there is a dollhouse with a little old man sitting in it. He watches all day so nobody can escape. Sometimes they sneak out. Then they go cruising in their golf carts.

My grandma used to bake cookies and stuff, but I guess she forgot how. Nobody there cooks, they just eat out. And they eat the same thing every night: Early Birds. Some of the people can't get past the man in the dollhouse to go out, so the ones who get out bring food back to the wrecked center and call it pot luck. My grandma says grandpa worked all his life to earn his retardment and says I should work hard so I can be retarded one day, too.

When I earn my retardment, I want to be the man in the dollhouse. Then I will let people out so they can visit their grandchildren.

Author(s) Unknown to Us

Visiting Hours

He was looking forward to this moment all day long, after 6 days of labor and it finally arrived--Visiting Day! The man with the keys arrived to swing open the large, heavy doors. The cold gray hall springs to life in the warm glow of light. He could hardly control his emotions. The families began to arrive. He peers from the corner of the room, longing for the first glimpse of his loved one.

He lives for the weekends. He lives for these visits.

As the cars arrive, he watches intently. Then, finally, she arrives--his bride, for whom he would do anything. They embrace, eat a light lunch and reminisce how things used to be. At one point, they break into singing, with interruptions of laughter and applause. But all too soon it is over. A tear comes to his eyes as his bride departs.

Then the man with the keys closes the heavy doors. He hears the key turn in the lock marking the end of a special day. There he stands, alone again. He knows that most of his visitors will not contact him again until next week.

As the last car pulls away from the parking lot, Jesus retreats into loneliness as He waits until next Sunday -- Visiting Day.

Is the time that we spend with Jesus an everyday thing, or do we just visit Him on Sunday????

Author Unknown to Us