Fred was in the hospital, near death, so the family sent for his pastor . . .
. . . As the pastor stood beside the bed, Fred's frail condition grew worse, and he motioned frantically for something to write on. The pastor lovingly handed him a pen and piece of paper, and Fred used his last ounce of strength to scribble a note. Then he died. The pastor thought it best not to look at the note just then, so he slipped it into his jacket pocket. Several days later, at the funeral, the pastor delivered the eulogy. He realized that he was wearing the same jacket that he'd worn the day Fred died. "You know," he said, "Fred handed me a note just before he died. I haven't read it, but knowing Fred, I'm sure there's a word of inspiration there for us all." He unfolded the note and read aloud, "You're standing on my oxygen tube!"
. . . As the pastor stood beside the bed, Fred's frail condition grew worse, and he motioned frantically for something to write on. The pastor lovingly handed him a pen and piece of paper, and Fred used his last ounce of strength to scribble a note. Then he died. The pastor thought it best not to look at the note just then, so he slipped it into his jacket pocket. Several days later, at the funeral, the pastor delivered the eulogy. He realized that he was wearing the same jacket that he'd worn the day Fred died. "You know," he said, "Fred handed me a note just before he died. I haven't read it, but knowing Fred, I'm sure there's a word of inspiration there for us all." He unfolded the note and read aloud, "You're standing on my oxygen tube!"
