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Monday, January 16, 2006

Respect old people

When an old lady died in the geriatric ward of a small hospital near
Dundee, Scotland, it was felt that she had nothing left of any value.
Later, when the nurses were going through her 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 Ireland.

This is her poem.....

What do you see, nurses, what do you see?
What are you thinking when you're looking at me?
A crabby old woman, not very wise, uncertain of habit, with faraway
eyes?
Who dribbles her 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
stocking 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 girl of sixteen, with wings on her feet, dreaming that soon now
a lover she'll meet.
A bride 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 woman 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 man'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 husband 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 woman 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 girl 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 woman; look
closer. See Me?!


Remember this poem when you next meet an old person, whom you might
brush aside without looking at the young Soul, within. We will one day be
there, also!

"Thy Lord has decreed that you worship none save Him alone, and behave
beneficently towards parents. If either or both of them should attain
old age while you are alive, say not "ugh" to them, nor chide them, and
speak kindly to them. Lower to them the wing of humility out of
tenderness and pray: 'Lord have mercy upon them, as they brought me up when I
was little'". (Holy Qur'an: 17:25)

The Holy Prophet (s.a.w) said:

"You are granted help and sustenance because of the needy and the
helpless among you."


Hanisha

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