Everything was in order and the pastor was preparing to leave when the woman suddenly remembered something very important to her. “There's one more thing,” she said excitedly. “What's that?” came the pastor's reply.
“This is very important.” The woman continued, “I want to be buried with a fork in my right hand.” The pastor stood looking at the woman, not knowing quite what to say.
“That surprises you, doesn't it?” the woman asked. “Well, to be honest, I'm puzzled by the request,” said the pastor. The woman explained. “In all my years of attending church socials and potluck dinners, I always remember that when the dishes of the main course were being cleared, someone would inevitably lean over and say, ‘Keep your fork.’ It was my favorite part because I knew that something better was coming . . . like velvety chocolate cake or deep-dish apple pie. Something wonderful, and with substance.”
“So, I just want people to see me there in that casket with a fork in my hand and I want them to wonder ‘What's with the fork?’ Then I want you to tell them: “Keep your fork. The best is yet to come.’” The pastor's eyes welled up with tears of joy as he hugged the woman good-bye. He knew this would be one of the last times he would see her before her death. But he also knew that the woman had a better grasp on life than he did. She knew that something better was coming.
At the funeral people were walking by the woman's casket and they saw the pretty dress she was wearing and her favorite Bible and the fork in her right hand. Over and over the pastor heard the question, “What's with the fork?” And, over and over he just smiled. During his message, the pastor told the people of the conversation he had with the woman shortly before she died. He also told them about the fork and what it symbolized to her. The pastor told the people that he could not stop thinking about the fork and told them they probably wouldn't stop thinking about it either. He was right.
So the next time you reach for your fork, let it remind you oh so gently, that the best is yet to come . . .