Dear Lord Jesus, please look after my friend . . . . Keep the nurses very gentle and understanding Make the doctors clever at fixing up sick people. Grace is the light of one lone star which leads us on Grace is the search which in the dust finds one lost coin. Grace is the rain which gently falls on good and bad. Grace is the hands washing the feet of stubborn pride.
Grace is the blade busy at work pruning the vines.
Grace is the wrath which upturns greed in holy shrines. Grace is the blood of a torn God soaking the soil. Grace is the cup which overflows with joy to all. The evening gannets bak and rise with grace supreme. The waves turn over sand and shells as in a dream.