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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 flour beneath my fingernails from making rolls for people, that's okay too. But I'd really like to drive up with my legs shaved and my hair washed.

Regardless of my appearance, I'd like to drive up to the pearly gates in this:


1991 Plymouth Grand Voyager. The decals cost extra.

That's all I ask.

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