Oh
Lord, I do not ask for much, Eternal beauty, or youth, or such. Just give
me a little hand to hold, And I'll forget that I'm growing old. I do
not ask for cloudless skies, A life that's free from tears and sighs. Just
give me a little face to kiss, And anxious moments will turn to
bliss. For what is there, really, that means so much As little hands
that reach and touch, As little eyes that search and see Only the best in
fragile me? So let me grow more loving and wise By looking at life
through their wide eyes. For through these little ones, you have
given This grateful grandmother a glimpse of Heaven.
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