Wednesday, June 30, 2010

I don't want
to drive up to the pearly gates in a shiny sports car, wearing
beautifully, tailored clothes, my hair expertly coiffed, and with long,
perfectly manicured fingernails.

I want to
drive up in a station wagon that has mud on the wheels from taking kids
to scout camp.

I want to be
there with grass stains on my shoes from mowing Sister Schenk's lawn.

I want to be
there with a smudge of peanut butter on my shirt from making sandwiches
for a sick neighbor's children.

I want to be
there with a little dirt under my fingernails from helping to weed
someone's garden.

I want to be
there with the children's sticky kisses on my cheeks and the tears of a
friend on my shoulder.

I want the
Lord to know I was really here and that I really lived.

Marjorie Pay

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