As the holiday bells ring out the old year, and sweethearts kiss, And cold hands touch and warm each other against the year ahead, May I wish you not the biggest and best of life, But the small pleasures that make living worthwhile.

Sometime during the New Year, to keep your heart in practice, May you do someone a secret good deed and not get caught at it.
May you find a little island of time to read that book and write that letter, and to visit that lonely friend on the other side of town.
May your next do-it-yourself project not look like you did it yourself.
May the poor relatives you helped support remember you when they win the lottery.
May your best card tricks win admiring gasps and your worst puns, admiring groans.
May all those who told you so, refrain from saying, "I told you so."
May all the predictions you've made for your first-born's future come true.
May just half of those optimistic predictions that your high school annual made for you come true.
In a time of sink or swim, may you find you can walk to shore before you call the lifeguard.
May you keep at least one ideal you can pass along to your kids.
For a change, some rainy day, when you're a few minutes late, may your train or bus be waiting for you.
May you accidentally overhear someone saying something nice about you.
If you run into an old school chum, may you both remember each other's names for introductions.
If you order your steak medium rare, may it be so.
And, if you're on a diet, may someone tell you, "You've lost a little weight", without knowing you're on a diet.
May that long and lonely night be brightened by the telephone call that you've been waiting for.
When you reach into the coin slot, may you find the coin that you lost on your last wrong number.
When you trip and fall, may there be no one watching to laugh at you or feel sorry for you.
And sometime soon, may you be waved to by a celebrity, wagged at by a puppy, run to by a happy child, and counted on by someone you love.

More than this, no one can wish you.