Lord, make me and instrument of Thy peace;
Where there is hatred let me sow love;
Where there is injury, pardon;
Where there is despair, hope;
Where there is darkness, light;
And where there is sadness, joy.
O Divine Master, grant that
I may not so much seek
To be consoled, as to console;
To be understood, as to understand;
To be loved, as to love;
For it is in giving that we receive,
It is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
And it is in dying that we are born into eternal life.
(Quoted in The Divine Hours: Prayers for Autumn and Wintertime, by Phyllis Tickle, p. 7)