BURY ME WITH A FORK

I heard a marvelous story recently that I thought I would share with you.

It seems Betty had been in a state of decline the past year, and she contacted her pastor, and asked him to stop by her house. Of course, he was happy to do this, and he made arrangements to see her at his earliest opportunity.

Ringing the doorbell, Betty’s caretaker opened it, greeted him and led Pastor Benson into the elderly lady’s bedroom. With this, the younger woman excused herself and left them alone.

Pastor Benson spoke.

“Well, hello Betty. And how are you feeling today?”

Betty managed a slight smile, and responded,

“Not too good, pastor.”

(and)

“I don’t think I am long for this old world.”

The pastor never liked conversations such as this, and he did his best to divert Betty to something a bit more pleasant.

“Now, now, Betty. You’ll still be with us long after I’m a fading memory.”

His little parishioner would not be deterred.

“Preacher, God has been speaking to me, and I think he intends to take me home very soon.”

She continued.

“Now I have something to say, and please don’t ‘shush’ me. I need to share something with you that I need you to remember.”

Pastor Benson realized that he had few, if any options and he replied,

“Okay, Betty. I’m listening.”

The elderly woman looked the good minister directly in the eyes, and began to tell him a story.

“Preacher, when I die, I want the funeral director to put a fork in my hand.”

You could have knocked the pastor over with a pillow!

“What? Did I hear you correctly, Betty?”

Betty could not help but giggle, and she continued her monologue.

“Pastor, you know when the ladies host a meal after the morning worship service, and after we have eaten all of that fried chicken, and mashed potatoes and turnip greens?”

The minister nodded his head.

“And you know how Sister Brown always says something like,

‘Ya’ll hold onto your forks, ‘cause the best is yet to come. We’ll be bringing each of you a nice big slice of deep-dish apple pie!’”

Now, a twinkle appeared in the pastor’s eyes.

Betty finished her instructions.

“When my relatives and friends file past my poor little body lying in the casket, and they ask you, ‘why is Sister Betty holding that fork in her hand?’ I want you to tell them, it’s because she wanted to remind you,

...‘Save your fork. The best is yet to come!’”

by William McDonald, PhD. Copyright Pending

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