A young girl was dying of leukaemia. Unfortunately there was no hope for her as her mother tried to console her as best as she could. The child asked her mother, ‘Mama, what is it like dying ?’ The mother composed herself and told her ‘well, do you remember when you were a young girl, when you used to jump and run from one room to another, from one toy to another. Remember how tired you always felt? By the evening you would be exhausted and you fall asleep on the family couch with your clothes on. Then your father would pick you up, and take you to your room, change you into your pyjamas, and cover you with blankets to sleep better. Death is something very similar. One morning we wake up and find ourselves lying in a different bed, the best bed, the most comfortable one, because Jesus himself had carried you there, and He will be with you in that room forever.’
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