Prayer of a Tired Mother

Hear my whispered prayer to thee,
Oh, Father: May I patient be
Keep my voice soft, gentle, low
Help me serene and calm to grow,
The little hands that clutch and cling,
The wilted flowers they often bring,
The restless feet that track in dirt,
The many little cuts and hurts
...That fill my days.

So often I am tired and harried,
When I have need to be unflurried.
Help me to know which things are real,
Their true importance help me feel.
And may I kiss the clinging hands,
With eagerness receive the flowers,
Help me to guide aright those feet,
Each hurt to bind and then repeat
...Soft, soothing words.