Reserve the best for the best
S he was dying. Her life was measured not in years…or months…but in weeks and days. She called the minister to her home to make her final preparations. As they talked of her funeral, she listed the scriptures she wanted read and the hymns she wanted sung. The lady said to the minister, ”When I’m placed in my casket I want you to put a fork in my hand.” Noticing the puzzled look on the minister’s face, she asked if anything was wrong. ”Oh, no,” he replied, ”but it’s the first time anyone has made such an unusual request.” So the lady began to explain. ”All my life I have attended church dinners and fellowships. Whenever we finished the meal, someone would come to collect the dishes and say, ‘Keep your fork.’ I knew what this meant. The best was yet to come. There would be apple pie or chocolate cake or some other delicacy. And I know for me, the best is yet to come. My death is not a time of sadness but of celebration. So I want to have a fork put in my hand. You can tell the ...