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Voice: A perfect cottage in heaven

September 22, 2001

Mark Twain, that masterful iconoclast who was not overly awed by God or the devil, once said that the common concept of heaven, whose denizens had to sing hymns or twang a harp endlessly, held no charms for him.

I am afraid I am forced to agree. Since I can neither carry a tune nor play a musical instrument, I would be a total misfit in heaven, just as I've been on Earth. (I love solitude and silence. Eternal music is not for me.)

So I would hope God would let me be a hymn writer or a helper in heaven's gardens — or both.

Since I have never aspired to live in a mansion, my idea of the perfect heavenly home would be a modest cottage with a morning-gloried wrap-around porch, complete with an oak swing. It would be even more heavenly with lilacs, roses and hollyhocks growing around the porch.


Heaven wouldn't be heaven without a library overflowing with mysteries, philosophy books and poetry anthologies.

If God would grant me the furnishings I want for my little cottage in heaven, I would first ask for a leaded glass front door and a stained-glass over-the-sink kitchen window of stained glass in a tulip design. The furniture would be French provincial — a far cry from the "antiques" I've collected on earth from The Salvation Army thrift store. I don't want anything elegant, just simple, beautiful and comfortable. Tiffany lamps would light my cottage.

The walls of my cottage would be pale yellow. Cushions and other decorative touches would be in my favorite colors: orange, purple, light avocado green, deep rose.

I don't need a drafty old mansion or opulent furnishings. I need only the comforts of an humble home.

If God truly answers prayers, He will have my cottage ready for me when I make my transition to the heavenly plane.

There would have to be a fenced in back yard with shelter for all of the pets I've loved and lost, and hope to reclaim in Glory Land.

I know what well would be: A continuation of the pain and harrowing endured in this life. Homelessness, hopelessness, despair … poverty ….

And the absence of loved ones and God.


El Centro

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