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Showing posts from April, 2013

The pearly gates

One of Sister Hinckley's most famous (and incorrectly attributed) quotes is “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 a smudge of peanut butter on my shirt from making sandwiches for a sick neighbors 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 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.” Well, maybe it's just that I haven't lived as long as she did, but I can't quite say I fully agree with her. Sticky cheeks? Peanut buttery shirts? No thank you. A bit of spit-up on my shirt might be okay. And if there's dried f