Faces of Men - Part I

I met Bill several months ago on Highway N when I was visiting Mrs. M. This week Bill seemed to be approaching death. He seemed thinner, his voice was difficult to hear, and his blue eyes had a hint of pearl in them. The room was very hot with the door closed, and no one seemed assigned to the other bed. Usually we talk about his hobby, butterflies, or other things, as I attempted to get to know him better.

Bill reads a lot, still using his mind as long as possible before his past life takes its ultimate revenge. He's always been honest, several times reminding me of the reason he has been reduced to such a condition. Perhaps he wants to make sure I know so that if I want to leave, I can.

This time I asked him about the one-piece wooden cross on the wall. His sister had given it to him. Further discussion led quickly to whether he was baptized. He had. To other questions, he added that a Protestant lady brought him communion. I explained that Catholics receive Jesus' body and blood in substance, but he could make a spiritual communion and that Jesus would hear him.

Dear Jesus, Who promised Dismas a place in heaven, please hear the prayers of Bill.