MountainWings       A MountainWings Moment
#5086              Wings Over The Mountains of Life



Edith
====

It was not your typical doctor's office. Great pains had been 
taken (I understand doctors don't like that expression) but 
great pains had been taken to create the atmosphere of a family 
room rather than that of a waiting room.

In one corner, a large TV screen which dwarfed a row of small 
chairs was designed to make restless children feel at home. The 
idea was to divert their attention, at least momentarily, from 
the unpleasant possibility that a hypodermic needle full of 
penicillin might be a part of their fate on the other side of 
those big double doors.

Behind the TV screen was a window which connected the waiting 
room to the business office and a video recorder which saw to it 
that the children were watching something edifying and not 
something too realistic like the emergency room scenes on 
hospital shows.

Tiny headphones at each chair allowed the children to view the 
likes of Mary Poppins without poppin' the eardrums of the ailing 
or aching adults who waited across the way in their own little 
world— (a world that included a plug-in sound system that let 
them choose their own music.)

Behind the vine-covered opening with the electronically 
controlled window was the receptionist, Brenda Carter, who 
laughingly admits she was hired because of her knowledge of 
electronics, not because she knew an appendectomy from a 
tonsilectomy. Alongside her appointment sheet was a console of 
switches that looked like a good prop for a Star Wars' episode, 
and above her window was a bronze plate that read “Will 
Phillips, M.D., General Practice of Medicine.”

Unfortunately, today was not an unusual day in the life of this 
family doctor. Dr. Phillips had been awakened from (believe it 
or not) a sound sleep at 3:30 a.m. by Bea Foster, a widow who 
had been troubled for years by a bad back. She had awakened in 
the night, tried to walk, and had fallen and bruised herself 
badly, requiring X-rays and the works.

At about 5:15, when Mrs. Foster was finally resting comfortably 
in her hospital room and Dr. Phillips was headed for the 
elevator, he heard the familiar sound of his beeper, and 
immediately knew that another emergency was about to usurp the 
place on his schedule that had been marked BREAKFAST. This time 
it was Billy Reynolds calling. His son, Tom, was on the way to 
the emergency room with what sounded like possibly the doctor's 
37th victim of a new strain of flu bug that was making the 
rounds most indiscriminately. By the time Tom was treated and 
released, 10:00 a.m. had rolled around, and Dr. Will, as he was 
respectfully called, arrived just in the nick of time to greet 
an office full of patients, who were patiently waiting.

As he entered the front door (he always came in that way so he 
could greet those who were waiting), his very presence seemed 
like a ray of sunshine. His 6 foot 3 inch frame was indeed 
imposing until you looked into his eyes... then you forgot how 
big he was!

...because those eyes showed an amazing mixture of strength and 
compassion

...of objectivity blended with sensitivity

... ‘twas a look that seemed to say to people:

“I know what I'm doing,”

and yet at the same time,

“I care about what I'm doing,” as well.

It was, as we said, not an unusual day for our family doctor, 
but he carried an unusual burden as he entered the waiting room 
that Friday morning...a waiting room that was packed. Yet, as 
Will Phillips' eyes scanned that crowd, he did not see a throng 
of people... he saw individuals, each of whom he cared about a 
great deal.

There was the Perkins boy, Freddy... crippled from birth, and 
yet not at all crippled in spirit... now grown into a strong 
young man preparing to enter medical school. What a positive 
influence Will Phillips had been on his life.

There was Mary Fletcher, the schoolteacher who so often appeared 
with a carload of children from the poverty ridden area where 
she taught, always paying their bills herself.

There was Bill Norris, the drug salesman from up state who 
always had the latest news on the latest cures, and whose 
friendship with Will spanned the 12 years Will had been in 
practice.

But as he glanced through the room, and his eyes moved to the 
west wall, suddenly his heart seemed to stop beating... for 
sitting on the edge of one of those comfortable leather sofas 
was none other than Edith Berns, 82 years young, and without a 
doubt the godliest woman Will Phillips had ever had the joy of 
knowing.

There she was, her open Bible on her lap, her hand gently 
squeezing the hand of a troubled young mother who “just 
happened” to be sitting beside her. You can just bank on one 
thing... she was talking about Jesus!!

Edith Berns' conversations always centered around Jesus! For 
Edith Berns' LIFE centered around Jesus!

She always had the time (at least she always TOOK the time) to 
stop and tell anyone who would listen that there was really only 
one reason for living ...and Jesus Christ was that reason!

And you just know how she started the conversation, too! With a 
sparkle in her eye and a captivating smile that had become such 
a natural part of her that the lines on her face had just formed 
around it, she would say...

“Hello, I'm Edith Berns.

Do you believe in Easter?”

Since it was October 25th, that question seemed even stranger 
than it would in March, but Edith had found it was an ice-
breaker that almost always led to the heart of the Christian 
message, and yet never seemed to be offensive.

The knot in Will Phillips' stomach this Friday morning in 
October, however, was not because Edith Berns was using his 
waiting room as a fish pond for her evangelistic endeavors. That 
delighted Will. His burden was the result of a lab report he had 
received the day before. That lab report meant that Edith Berns 
just might not live to celebrate another of those Easter Sundays 
that had so highlighted her life.

Will's job this morning was to break the news to Edith that the 
diagnosis was that her disease was inoperable, untreatable, and 
incurable and that the next few months would surely be 
characterized by a great deal of pain and suffering. He had 
faced this unpleasant task many times before for a man who was 
only 38 years old, but none had grieved him like the encounter 
that awaited him this morning.

So the Doctor took an abnormally long time with his first three 
patients. He reasoned that he wanted to give Edith all the time 
she needed to talk about Easter to her captive audience in the 
waiting room, but his real reason was that he couldn't face the 
prospect of describing to that precious saint the possibility of 
the pain that awaited her.

By 10:45 Will had run out of excuses, and he reluctantly 
motioned to his nurse, Beverly Timmons, and said, “Bev, send 
Edith in...”

A few seconds later, the door opened again, but it wasn't Edith. 
It was Nurse Timmons instead with a big smile on her face.

“Mrs. Edith and that Thorndale woman are praying at the moment, 
Doctor,” she reported. “I believe our waiting room is about to 
become a delivery room again. I think another new birth is 
taking place.”

You see, Bev Timmons understood. She had become a Christian 
herself in one of Dr. Phillips' treatment rooms, about two years 
before. She was taking Edith Berns' pulse at the time, and out 
of the clear blue sky, Edith had asked her;

“Bev, do you believe in Easter?"

“Of course I do,” Bev had answered. “I love Easter. Now lie 
still, Mrs Berns.”

“Oh, I do, too...” Edith had continued, “What DO you believe 
about Easter?”

Bev would have been annoyed, but you just couldn't be annoyed by 
Edith Berns.

“Well I believe it's a day of joy!” Bev had responded.

“Indeed it is,” Edith went on, “Indeed it is. Why is that, Bev? 
Why IS it such a day of joy?”

Lovingly, Edith had framed question after question that 
ultimately led to the one question in life that leads to the 
answer. 

“Is there life after life in your life?” she had asked lovingly, 
“Do you know for sure about Easter?”

That afternoon, Beverly Timmons had experienced the reality of 
Easter... and had never been the same since.

So the drama being re-enacted in Will Phillips' waiting room was 
nothing to be taken lightly to Bev... she knew it was a matter 
of life and death.

But in a matter of minutes, Edith Berns came scurrying down the 
hallway, Bible in hand, her big black purse over her shoulder, 
and a smile on her face so wide it even tested those wrinkles 
that her godly smiles had already formed.

“Is Mrs.Thorndale in the family?” Bev asked as she hugged her 
spiritual mother.

“Oh my yes,” Edith answered, “she just discovered Easter! You go 
out and tell her you're a Christian, too! And give her one of 
these...” Edith went on, “I completely forgot!” as she pulled 
from her huge handbag, (which was half purse and half Christian 
bookstore) a booklet she had written herself for her newborn 
spiritual babies. It was entitled, “Either side of Easter!”

“And tell her I'll call her tonight,” Edith added, “Now run 
along, child, I must see if this dynamic Doctor of ours is 
spending enough time in the Word.”

With that, she winked at the young physician as if to assure him 
she would always be there to look after him. (Which didn't make 
his job any easier.)

“Doctor, Doctor,” Edith began before Will could so much as open 
his mouth.

“You look troubled! Didn't Jesus tell you to be anxious for 
nothing? I'm afraid you're spending too much time working and 
not enough time praying,” Edith exclaimed. “Paul said pray about 
everything and God's peace will flood your soul.”

“You need to get a day alone with your Jesus,” she went on, 
“then you'll be in control of your practice, instead of your 
practice controlling you.”

“Edith!” the doctor interrupted. “Just which one of us is the 
doctor? I appreciate your diagnosis. I'll take it to heart. Now 
let's talk about yours!”

It came out so fast, Will stunned himself! He was so burdened, 
he had been abrupt with the very person he was burdened for. 
“Forgive me, Edith” he asked sheepishly, “I didn't mean to be 
sharp, but I do have something very important to talk to you 
about.”

With that, both parties were back at the starting gate, and Dr. 
Phillips began his painful conversation.

“Edith,” he began, “we got your test reports back last night. I 
wasn't sure what to expect, but the results are even more 
traumatic than I had even imagined. You complain so little about 
pain and seem so happy all the time, I never expected to see the 
disease so far advanced.” (Doctor Phillips dropped his head at 
this point.)

“Will, are you alright?” Edith asked. “Bless your heart! Son, 
you don't think God up and made a mistake, do you?”

With that, the good doctor jerked his head nearly out of its 
socket and stared in disbelief at this incredible woman.

“My, my Will, I'm surprised at you!” Edith went on. “I'm just 
fixin' to rush into the arms of my Jesus, see my dear husband 
again, worship with all my friends who went and beat me to 
heaven—I'm about to spend eternity in Heaven doing the one thing 
I love the most — CELEBRATING EASTER— ...and you've got a face 
so long your chin's gonna get run over by a grasshopper. I'm 
gettin' sent home at last, and you're afraid to give me my 
ticket? Shame on you, Will Phillips!”

“PRAISE GOD... AN ETERNAL EASTER...” she went on,

“How long do I have to wait?”

With that, the big doctor broke out into a grin himself, 
relieved at the unexpected turn of events, and answered almost 
triumphantly,

“About six months I'd say, Edith... I'd say you've about six 
months to wait.”

(Suddenly, he was gaining her perspective of death, and it made 
so much sense, he was excited.)

Edith thought for a second. “Well, then, I'd like an appointment 
to see you at least twice a week,” she announced. “At least 
twice a week!”

Will interrupted rather firmly.

“Edith! I'm the Doctor, remember?”

“Now I'd like to see you about... about... twice a week,” he 
stammered. “How'd you know that anyway?”

“I didn't,” she chuckled, “but I need that many days a week in 
your waiting room to fish for souls. Only the Lord could be so 
good... a ready-made fish pond and a soft leather sofa to boot! 
At least twice a week,” Edith went on, “at least twice a week!"

“Twice a week will be fine,” Dr Phillips replied, "just fine!”

“And Edith” (his long face began to return) “there, uh, there, 
uh, will be ...

“Pain?” Edith said the word for him.

“Yes,” Will responded, ashamed that he couldn't say it himself!

“It will be nothing like the pain my Jesus suffered for me.” 
Edith quietly added, “Paul said we must suffer with Him if we're 
to reign with Him. I only pray that my pain might honor Him,” 
Edith went on, “and that I might never become bitter or angry. 
Will, I have a good bit of that pain already,” Edith continued.

“I thought maybe you did,” the doctor acknowledged.

“And you know what?” she added, “It's caused me to trust Him 
even more. Will, you're a marvelous doctor and a precious 
friend. Thank you for making this such a special day,” she 
concluded as she rose to her feet.

Will had no answer for that! He had given many patients bad news 
before, but he'd never been thanked before for making their day 
special by doing so.

“God bless you, Edith,” he blurted out, and that was all he 
could manage to say!

The next few weeks were a little like Pentecost in Dr. Phillips' 
waiting room. The first week Edith came for her two visits as 
expected, but she came about an hour early so she could be sure 
to talk to somebody about Easter... but by the second week, 
Brenda noticed that Edith was appearing EVERY MORNING whether 
she had an appointment or not!

She'd bring in her knitting, her big black purse stuffed with 
New Testaments and books to give away, and she'd bring a lunch, 
so she wouldn't have to leave at noon when the working women 
came in to get their flu shots. She'd just spend the day!

Brenda asked Dr. Phillips what she should do about it, and he 
replied, “Be sure she has some iced tea to go with her lunch, 
and pray that God will send just the right people to sit on that 
couch. God has sent a short-term but full time missionary right 
into our waiting room,” he nodded in amazement, “What a great 
God we have!”

So on through the Christmas season, Edith Berns sat on that 
couch in Will Phillips' office and talked about Easter and Jesus 
and scarcely a day would go by that someone didn't discover the 
reality of Easter.

Dr. Will's office was closed, of course, for the New Years 
weekend. When they reopened on January 3rd, Brenda kept her 
electronic window in high gear as the waiting room loaded up 
with patients.

More than a few of those openings were to allow Brenda to peer 
cautiously towards that sofa on the west wall to see if that 
amazing lady with the big black purse (and the even bigger 
smile) would be manning her post as usual, as God's ambassador 
for Easter.

But as the clock on Brenda's desk moved towards lunch time, 
Edith Easter, as they had come to affectionately call her, still 
was nowhere in sight. (They had tried to call her house, but 
they got no answer.)

It was about 2:30 in the afternoon when the phone finally rang. 
“Hello, Dr. Phillips' office,” Brenda answered. “He's with a 
patient just now. Who shall I say is calling? Mercy Hospital?”

“Yes, Edith Berns is our patient. She's where? Is she... is 
she... alright?... I see. Yes, of course, just a minute, I'll 
call the Doctor."

Dr. Phillips hurriedly picked up the phone.

“Will,” said the cheery, but a bit impatient voice on the other 
end of the phone, “Will, this is Edith!

“My old body is sending me signals that are saying Edith I think 
God wants you to tell your Easter story down at Mercy Hospital 
for awhile. I didn't want to bother you, so I took a cab, but 
this young lady in admittance won't let me in without an 
authorization from a certified M.D. You are certified, aren't 
you Will?” she chuckled. 

“Then tell this nice lady to assign me to a room with two 
beds... and tell ‘em to keep sending me ladies for roommates 
that need to hear the Easter story, will you, Will? And Will, 
you tell Bev I'm assigning that couch on the west wall to her. 
Tell her God's moving me on to new territory.

“I'm gettin' closer to home, Will,” she whispered, “I'm gettin' 
closer to home!”

“Let me speak to the lady, Edith,” Dr. Philliips responded, a 
bit emotionally, “I'll see that you get that room with two 
beds... one for you... and one for whatever ladies God wants you 
to tell about Easter.”

I guess it goes without saying that the 8th floor of Mercy 
Hospital had never experienced anything quite like the presence 
of Edith Berns. It was obvious she was in a great deal of pain, 
but you never once heard it mentioned... she only talked about 
Easter!

“Weeping endures for a night,” she would tell her roommates. 
“Oh, but joy comes in the morning!”

Nearly every week a new patient would be moved into Room 824, 
and nearly always when they left, they left with a song in their 
hearts, a song planted there by Edith Easter.

The nurses soon sensed an aura of joy in Room 824, too, a joy 
that they couldn't explain, so you would often find that 
whenever it got a little slow on the floor, they would gravitate 
towards Edith Easter's room.

....All of them, that is, but one! The head nurse on the evening 
shift, one Phyllis Cross, who seemed to perfectly live up to her 
name, intentionally kept her distance from Edith. She would 
refer to her as that “religious nut in 824”, and, in general, 
seemed determined not to let Edith's Easter story rub off on 
her.

There was a time or two when no one else was available to give 
Edith her medicine, and Phyllis was forced to go in. But even 
then she maintained her icy composure and refused to respond to 
Edith's cheerfulness with so much as a smile.

It was a Monday night late in February, and Edith had taken a 
turn for the worse. An infection had set in, and her temperature 
had skyrocketed. Round the clock care was ordered, and being two 
nurses short, Phyllis Cross herself drew the duty in Room 824.

Edith was in great pain and nearly delirious from the fever, but 
somehow when Phyllis entered the room, she managed an incredible 
smile and took the nurse's hand and squeezing it with what 
little strength she had left, whispered, "I love you, Phyllis, 
and I'm praying for you."

Now Phyllis Cross was one tough woman! She had been a head nurse 
in a military unit for 11 years and worked as head nurse in the 
emergency room for 16 years before that. She had been through 
three marriages and lived through several personal tragedies. 
Her face was hardened by the ravages of time and temper. Her 
eyes possessed a quality of iciness that indicated that all of 
life was cold and calculated. Whatever fire of warmth that might 
once have been there had long since been extinguished. In all 
her years on the 8th floor at Mercy, no one had ever seen her 
shed a tear; but when that dying woman, whom she had so avoided, 
squeezed her hand and said, “I love you, and I'm praying for 
you,” something inside of her began to melt.

The irony of it all was more than Phyllis could bear. Here was a 
dying woman (with no hope) praying for HER! Somehow it seemed as 
though it should have been the other way around! But, of course, 
Phyllis and prayer were not compatible terms.

The mechanical nurse (as they called her) sat down by Edith's 
bed and squeezing her hand said, “Thanks dear, but there's no 
use praying for me. God gave up on me a long, long time ago.”

“No he hasn't!” Edith answered, almost defiantly, “and I've 
asked Him not to take me home until you're in the fold, too! All 
these nurses look up to you, but you're not looking up at all! 
You've done a lot of livin', Phyllis; but you've never really 
experienced life!”

“If you're asking your God to keep you alive until I'm in the 
fold,” Phyllis responded, either He's gonna let you down, or 
you're going to be the oldest patient in the history of this 
hospital. Religion has never done a thing for me!”

“I love you!” Edith said it again!

“And God loves you, Phyllis. Oh, how God loves you.”

Phyllis froze, expecting this incredible spirit to toss out her 
Easter question at any moment. It was almost as if Edith sensed 
that, and knowing the time was not right, she saved that 
question for the perfect moment.

“I love you,” she said one more time, and with that Phyllis 
Cross muttered something about needing to check another patient 
and slipped hurriedly out the door. This woman's very presence 
was more than she could handle. She had watched patient after 
patient assigned to bed two of Room 824 leave that hospital 
transformed. She had seen four of her nurses demonstrably 
changed from spending time (after their shift was over) with 
Edith Berns.

In fact, the greetings on her floor among the staff were as 
often handclasps and “Happy Easter” as they were “Good morning.” 
Something miraculous was happening on the 8th floor. To some 
degree it irritated her, yet still something inside of her 
wondered if this delightfully different dying woman did not have 
the answers that had so eluded her about the real meaning of 
life. And the stream of visitors that literally flowed in and 
out of that room: all of them so joyful! All of them so 
encouraging! All of them greeting her with “Happy Easter, 
Edith!” They talked about her being their “spiritual mother,” 
and many referred to “that day” on the couch in Will Phillips' 
waiting room. 

Something truly remarkable was happening in Room 824. The 
question Phyllis Cross had to answer was, “Am I going to be 
touched by it? Or avoid it at any cost?” For truly, you had to 
work at it to avoid being touched by it.

It was late in March when Phyllis Cross could contain herself no 
longer. Early one morning, just after her shift had ended, 
almost uncontrollably, she was drawn to walk into room 824 
before she went home.

The streams of sunlight that flooded the room heightened the 
beauty of the wall to wall floral arrangements that kept pouring 
into Edith Easter's room, but the brightest light that morning 
was in Edith's eyes. It was almost as though she had never been 
sick.

Oh, the pain was still there! But you seemed to sense that the 
fragrance of victory made the pain almost of no consequence. 
“Good morning, Phyllis,” Edith beamed, “I was expecting you.”

“You were?” Phyllis answered, but she never got around to asking 
why. Instead, she sat down on the edge of Edith's bed and just 
blurted out...

“How come you've never asked ME about Easter?”

The godly old woman smiled and squeezed Phyllis' hand. “I was 
waiting for YOU to ask me,” Edith answered, “and now you have!

“Phyllis, do YOU believe in Easter?”

“I guess I don't,” Mrs. Cross replied. “At least not the way you 
do!”

“I've always celebrated Easter; always gone to church. I always 
gave my children Easter eggs. I've always celebrated Easter...”

“Ah, but Phyllis,” Edith asked, her big blue eyes literally 
aglow, “you have celebrated Easter... but have you EXPERIENCED 
Easter?

“Phyllis, do you really believe in life after death?

“Do you believe your REAL life is yet to be lived, when this 
life is over?

“Phyllis, do you believe that the real reason for this life is 
to store up treasures for the next... treasures of lives that 
have been touched by yours?”

“Not really,” the aging nurse replied, “not really!”

“Do you believe in the death of Christ?” Edith went on 
intensely, but gently.

“Of course,” Phyllis answered, almost relieved that she could 
give a “yes” answer to something.

“Then will you read something for me?” Edith quickly responded, 
and she pulled out a Bible so worn it looked like it had been 
used to test the endurance of paper, and asked Phyllis to read 
from I Corinthians, chapter 15.

“Begin with verse 3!” she said.

Phyllis read these words...

3 For I delivered unto you first of all that which I also 
received, how that Christ died for our sins according to the 
Scriptures.

4 and that He was buried, and that He rose again the third day 
according to the Scriptures.

5 and He was seen of Cephas, then of the 12, after that He was 
seen of about 500 brethren at once.

“Don't you see, Phyllis,” Edith interrupted her momentarily, 
“The whole gospel is the gospel of Easter.

“Jesus died for our sins... just as the Scripture says.

“He died on the cross... so Phyllis Cross could have eternal 
life.

“Phyllis, do you KNOW you have eternal life?

“Do you KNOW that Jesus Christ lives in your heart right now?

“Have you ever acknowledged to God that YOUR sins nailed Jesus 
to that tree and asked Him to forgive you and come into your 
life?

“Oh, Phyllis, that's Easter! He died for your sins according to 
the Scriptures, He rose again so you could never die... read 
verse 13, Phyllis.”

Phyllis read this:

13 If there be no resurrection of the dead, then is Christ not 
risen..and if Christ be not risen, then is our preaching in 
vain, and your faith is also vain?

If in this life only, we have hope in Christ, we are of all men 
most miserable.

20 But now is Christ risen from the dead and become the 
firstfruits of them that slept.

Edith's eyes met Phyllis' head on.

“Phyllis, you have celebrated Easter for years, but you can 
experience Easter for the first time this morning. JESUS CHRIST 
IS WAITING TO BE RESURRECTED IN YOUR LIFE... to give you a taste 
of Heaven on your way to heaven... where you will celebrate 
Easter forever!"

For the first time in years, tears began to roll down the cheeks 
of Phyllis Cross as she knelt beside the bed of the first person 
in years who had told her they loved her, and she asked Edith's 
friend Jesus to become her Saviour and her friend as well. As 
she rose from her knees, Phyllis Cross glowed with a joy she had 
been certain would never be hers.

“Do you know what day this is, Phyllis?” the sweet old saint 
asked.

“It's Good Friday!" Phyllis answered.

“And do you know what day it is for you?” she asked

“It's Easter!”

“Happy Easter, Phyllis, Happy Easter!”

With a clasp of the hands that seemed to signify a bond that 
would last for eternity, Phyllis Cross literally ran from Room 
824... a new person. For the first time in her life, she was 
really celebrating Easter!

It was late that evening when Phyllis returned to duty on the 
8th floor of Mercy Hospital. There was a spring in her step she 
had never experienced before. The smile on her face seemed 
almost out of place, yet incredibly welcome by the rest of the 
staff.

She came to work not only with a spring in her step and a smile 
on her face, but with an armful of Easter lillies for that 
special lady in Room 824.

As soon as she had checked on all the emergencies that seemed to 
always wait for her arrival, she rushed, flowers in hand, into 
Edith Easter's room. She tiptoed as soon as she realized Edith 
was asleep. As always with an open Bible in her lap.

There was a beautiful smile on Edith's face - you could tell she 
had fallen asleep reading from what she called "God's love 
letter to her.” It was open to John, chapter 14, and underlined 
with a bold, yellow marker were these words:

I go to prepare a place for you, and if I go to prepare a place 
for you I will come again and receive you unto myself, that 
where I am, there ye may be also.

Phyllis' smile broadened. For some strange reason, she reached 
down and took Edith's hand and squeezed it. Only then did she 
realize - Edith Berns was home at last!

As she reached down to take the Bible from her, she realized 
that Edith's other hand was slipped in between the pages of 
Revelation chapter 21, where she had carefully underlined vs 4. 
It read,

And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes, and there 
shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither 
shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed 
away.

Phyllis Cross looked down and started to speak to the lifeless 
body that lay before her—Then suddenly, she looked straight up 
instead, and shouted at the top of her voice— “Happy Easter, 
Edith! Happy Easter!”

One thought raced through her mind and caused her to smile even 
more as she moved quietly towards the hallway. It was Edith's 
vow... “I've asked God not to take me home until Phyllis is in 
the fold.” God had kept His word—and just in time for Easter.

As Phyllis walked down the narrow hallway to the nurses lounge, 
the words... “they need someone to look up to” kept ringing in 
her ears...

Entering the room, she saw two brand new nurse's aides who had 
just finished their first shift at the hospital. They were 
busily chatting (mostly discussing how they would each spend 
Easter Sunday.)

Phyllis glanced around the room, studying their faces, then 
quietly she said. 

"Hello girls, I'm Phyllis Cross. May I ask you a question?" 

“Do you believe in Easter?”

“I mean REALLY BELIEVE????????”

You can count on one thing, before she left the room that day... 
they did. Do you?


~©by Russell Keller, the original story as told by Mr. Keller 
can be obtained on CD or cassette free of charge at www.dtm.org~

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