The day will come when my
body will lie upon a white sheet neatly tucked
under four corners of a mattress located in a
hospital busily occupied with the living and the
dying. At a certain moment, a doctor will
determine that my brain has ceased to function
and that, for all intents and purposes, my life
has stopped.
When that happens, do not attempt to instill
artificial life into my body by the use of a
machine. And don't call this my deathbed.
Let it be called the Bed of Life, and let my body
be taken from it to help others lead fuller lives.
Give my sight to the man who has never seen a
sunrise, a baby's face or love in the eyes of a
woman. Give my heart to a person whose own
heart has caused nothing but endless days of pain.
Give my blood to the teenager who was pulled from
the wreckage of his car, so that he might live to
see his grandchildren play. Give my kidneys
to one who depends on a machine to exist.
Take my bones, every muscle, every fiber and
nerve in my body, and find a way to make a
crippled child walk.
Explore every corner of my brain. Take my
cells, if necessary, and let them grow so that,
someday, a speechless boy will shout at the crack
of a bat, and a deaf girl will hear the sound of
rain against her window.
Burn what is left of me and scatter the ashes to
the winds to help the flowers grow. If you
must bury something, let it be my faults, my
weaknesses and all prejudice against my fellow
man.
If, by chance, you wish to remember me, do it
with a kind deed or word to someone who needs you.
If you do all I have asked, I will live forever.
- WRITTEN BY ROBERT N. TEST -


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GOD'S LITTLE ACRE
Copyright (c) Rusti 2002, 2003
All Rights Reserved
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