Youth is a trickster. It makes us think we will always be young, or at least we won’t be old for a very long time. The distance between today and old age seems like the distance between the Earth and Mars, so it sometimes feels like we don’t have anything in common with the elderly.

We go to an office every day; they stay at home. We struggle to make a living; they live on Social Security. We raise school-age children; they live solitary lives. How could we possibly understand one another?

In an adaption of the poem Too Soon Old, by Phyllis McCormack, David L. Griffith writes about an old man in a geriatric ward of a nursing home. The poem is a reminder that when you look at an elderly person, what you can see with your eyes doesn’t compare to what’s under the surface—and you might have more in common than you think.

Cranky Old Man
What do you see, nurses? What do you see?
What are you thinking, when you’re looking at me?
A cranky old man, not very wise.
Uncertain of habit, with faraway eyes.
Who dribbles his food, and makes no reply.
When you say in a loud voice, “I do wish you’d try!”
Who seems not to notice the things that you do.
And forever is losing a sock or shoe.
Who, resisting or not, let’s 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 boy of sixteen with wings on his feet,
Dreaming that soon now a lover he’ll meet.
A groom soon at twenty my heart gives a leap,
Remembering, the vows that I promised to keep.
At twenty-five, now I have young of my own,
Who need me to guide and a secure happy home.
A man of thirty, my young now grown fast,
Bound to each other, with ties that should last.
At forty, my young sons have grown and are gone,
But my woman is beside me to see I don’t mourn.
At fifty, once more, babies play ’round my knee,
Again, we know children, my loved one and me.
Dark days are upon me; my wife is now 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 man, and nature is cruel.
It’s jest to make old age look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles, grace and vigor, depart.
There is now a stone, where I once had a heart.
But inside this old carcass, a young man still dwells.
And now and again, my battered heart 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 fact, that nothing can last.
So open your eyes, people! Open and see!
Not a cranky old man. Look closer. See ME!

This poem is a wonderful reminder that every elderly person was once young. It’s also a reminder if you honor the Lord by honoring the elderly around you, if you take time to serve them and show them God’s love, if you patiently listen to them, you may find you have more in common than you ever imagined!

Most importantly, you will be pleasing the Lord by fulfilling 1 Peter 5:5: “Clothe yourselves, all of you, with humility toward one another…

I encourage you to look for opportunities to humbly serve those older than you who God has in your life.