Tink
07-15-2008, 04:14 PM
Two 90-year-old women, Vivian and Edith, had been friends all of their
lives. When it was clear that Edith was dying, Vivian visited her every day.
One day Vivian said, 'Edith, we both loved playing women's softball all our
lives, and we played it all through high school. Please do me one favor . .
. .when you get to Heaven, somehow you must let me know if there's women's
softball there.'
Edith looked up at Vivian from her death bed, 'Vivian, you've been my best
friend for many years. If it's at all possible, I'll do this favor for you.'
Shortly after that, Edith passed on.
At midnight a couple of nights later, Vivian was awakened from a sound sleep
by a blinding flash of white light and a voice calling out to her, 'Vivian,
Vivian.'
'Who is it?' asked Vivian, sitting up suddenly. 'Who is it?'
'Vivian -- it's me, Edith.'
'You're not Edith. Edith died.'
'I'm telling you, Vivian, it's me,' insisted the voice.
'Edith! Where are you?'
'In Heaven,' replied Edith. 'I have some really good news and a little bad
news.'
'Tell me the good news first,' said Vivian.
'The good news,' Edith said, 'is that there IS softball in Heaven. Better
yet, all of our old buddies who died before us are here, too. Even better,
we're all young again. Better still, it's always springtime, and it never
rains or snows. And best of all, we can play softball all we want, and
we never get tired.'
'That's fantastic,' said Vivian. 'It's beyond my wildest dreams! So what's
the bad news?'
'You're pitching Tuesday.'
lives. When it was clear that Edith was dying, Vivian visited her every day.
One day Vivian said, 'Edith, we both loved playing women's softball all our
lives, and we played it all through high school. Please do me one favor . .
. .when you get to Heaven, somehow you must let me know if there's women's
softball there.'
Edith looked up at Vivian from her death bed, 'Vivian, you've been my best
friend for many years. If it's at all possible, I'll do this favor for you.'
Shortly after that, Edith passed on.
At midnight a couple of nights later, Vivian was awakened from a sound sleep
by a blinding flash of white light and a voice calling out to her, 'Vivian,
Vivian.'
'Who is it?' asked Vivian, sitting up suddenly. 'Who is it?'
'Vivian -- it's me, Edith.'
'You're not Edith. Edith died.'
'I'm telling you, Vivian, it's me,' insisted the voice.
'Edith! Where are you?'
'In Heaven,' replied Edith. 'I have some really good news and a little bad
news.'
'Tell me the good news first,' said Vivian.
'The good news,' Edith said, 'is that there IS softball in Heaven. Better
yet, all of our old buddies who died before us are here, too. Even better,
we're all young again. Better still, it's always springtime, and it never
rains or snows. And best of all, we can play softball all we want, and
we never get tired.'
'That's fantastic,' said Vivian. 'It's beyond my wildest dreams! So what's
the bad news?'
'You're pitching Tuesday.'