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Blessed are they who understand my faltering step and shaking hand.
Blessed are they who know my ears today must strain to catch the things they say
Blessed are they who seem to know my eyes are dim and my mind slow.'
Blessed are they who looked away when tea spilled on the cloth today.
Blessed are they with a cheery smile who stopped to chat for a little while
Blessed are they who never say you've told that story twice today.
Blessed are they who make it known that I'm loved, respected and not alone.
And blessed are they who ease the days of my journey home, in loving ways.
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