If some small fairy said to me
(As I have heard they do),
“Of all life’s wishes, you pick three,
And I’ll make them come true.”
‘Twould not be easy to select,
But one I’m certain of —-
Some folks whose love I could detect
And some whom I might love.
Then, I believe, that I would choose
An understanding heart —-
An inner salve that I could use
When projects fall apart,
An ointment that I might apply
When suffering from pride,
A medicine to make me try
To see the other side.
A faith would be my final choice —-
A faith so real and warm
I’d feel its glow when I rejoice
And when I face the storm.
Three wishes surely aren’t enough,
As any sprite can see,
But wouldn’t life be pretty rough
If she denied these three?