The Fork

There was a young woman who had been diagnosed with a terminal illness and had been given a few months to live. As she was getting her things "in order," she contacted her pastor and asked him to come to her house to discuss certain aspects of her final wishes. She told him which songs she wanted sung at the service, what scriptures she would like read, and her preferred burial clothes. Everything was in order and the pastor was preparing to leave when the young woman suddenly remembered an omission.

"There's one more thing," she said excitedly. "What's that?" came the pastor's reply. "This is very important," the young woman continued. "I want to be buried with a dinner fork in my right hand."

The pastor stood looking at the young woman, not knowing quite what to say. "That surprises you, doesn't it?" the young woman asked. "Well, to be honest, I am puzzled by the request," said the pastor.

The young woman explained. "My grandmother once told me this story, and from there on out, I have always followed her lead. I also always tried to pass along its message to those I love and those who are in need of encouragement. Grandma related that in all her years of attending church socials and potluck dinners, she remembered when the dishes of the main course were being cleared; someone would inevitably lean over and say, 'Keep your fork.' It was her favorite part, because she knew something better was coming--like velvety chocolate cake or deep-dish apple pie; something wonderful, and with substance!

"Accordingly, I just want people to see me in my casket with a fork in my hand, and I want them to wonder, 'What's with the fork?' I want you to tell them I believe in Grandma's advice; keep your fork -- the best is yet to come."

The pastor's eyes welled up with tears of joy as he hugged the young woman good-bye. He knew this would be one of the last times he would see her before her death. But he also knew that the young woman had a better grasp of heaven than he did. She had a better grasp of what heaven would be like than many people twice her age, with twice as much experience and knowledge. She KNEW that something better was coming.

At the funeral, people were walking by the young woman's casket and they saw the pretty dress she was wearing and the fork placed in her right hand. Over and over, the pastor heard the question "What's with the fork?" And over and over, he smiled.

During his message, the pastor told the people of the conversation he had with the young woman shortly before she died. He also told them about the fork and about what it symbolized to her. The pastor told the people how he could not stop thinking about the fork and told them that they probably would not be able to stop thinking about it either. He was right. So, the next time you reach for your fork, let it remind you--ever so gently--that the best is yet to come.

Friends are very rare jewels, indeed. They make you smile and encourage you to succeed. They lend an ear, they share a word of praise, and they want to open their hearts to you. Show your friends how much you care. Remember to always be there for them, even when you need them more. For you never know when it may be their time to keep their forks.

Cherish the time you have, and the memories you share. Being friends with someone is not an opportunity, but a sweet responsibility.

And, of course, keep your fork.