The Jack Pack: Our last fishing trip

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 grass stains on my shoes from mowing Sister Schenk's lawn.I want to be there with a smudge of peanut butter on my shirt from making sandwiches for a sick neighbor's 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.
— Marjorie Pay Hinckley

The Jack Pack

Monday, December 20, 2010

Our last fishing trip

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