The following is a piece that my mother found in a magazine somewhere and asked me to copy it for her. I liked it and made myself a copy.
This is in her memory.

Youth is not a time of life–it’s a state of mind. It is not a matter of ripe cheeks, red lips, and supple knees. It is a temper of will, a quality of the imagination, a vigor of the emotions, a predominance of courage over timidity, of the appetite for adventure over love of ease.

This often exists in a man of fifty more than in a boy of twenty. Nobody grows old by merely living a number of years; people grow old only by deserting their ideals. Years wrinkle the skin, but to give up enthusiasm wrinkles the soul. Worry, doubt, self-distrust, fear and despair–these are the long, long years that bow the head and turn the growing spirit back to dust.Whether at seventy or sixteen there is in every being’s heart the love of wonder, the sweet amazement at the stars, and the star-like  things and thoughts, the undaunted challenge of events, unfailing appetite for what next and the joy and game of life.

You are as young as your faith and as old as your dread, as young as your self-confidence, as old as your fear, as young as your hope, as old as your despair.

So long as our heart receives messages of beauty, cheer, courage and grandeur and power from the earth, from man and from the infinity–then so long are you young.

When the wires are all down and all the central peace of your heart is covered with the snows of pessimism and the ice of cynicism, then you are grown old indeed, and may God have mercy on your soul.


Author Unknown       If anyone recognizes this, please tell me the author’s name.



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