What Do You See?

When an old lady died in the geriatric ward of a small hospital near Dundee, Scotland, it was believed that she left nothing of any value. Later, when the nurses were going through her meagre 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 Ireland. The old lady's sole bequest to posterity has since been distributed far and wide. A nurse-training slide presentation has also been made, based on the old lady's simple, but eloquent, poem. And this little old lady, with nothing left to give to the world, is now remembered as the author of this 'anonymous' poem...

CRABBY OLD WOMAN

What do you see, nurse, what do you see
What are you thinking when you look 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 load voice, 'I wish you would 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 at her feet
Dreaming that soon now a lover she'll meet

A bride soon at twenty. My heart skips a beat
Remembering the vows that I promised to keep

At twenty-five now, I have young of my own
Who need me to guide a secure happy home

A woman of thirty. My young now grown fast
Bound to eachother with ties that should last

At forty, my young sons have grown and are gone
But my man is beside me to see I don't mourn

At fifty, once more babies play round my feet
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 vigour 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 head 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 truth that nothing can last

So open your eyes, people. Open and see
Not a crabby old woman. Look closer... it's ME!

(Remember this when you next meet an old person who you might brush aside without looking at the young soul within. We will all, one day, be there, too.)