“I don't want to drive up to the pearly gates in a shiny sports car, wearing
beautifully, tailored clothes, my hair expertly coiffed, and with long,
perfectly manicured fingernails. I want to drive up in a station wagon that has
mud on the wheels from taking kids to scout camp. I want to be there with a
smudge of peanut butter on my shirt from making sandwiches for a sick neighbors
children. I want to be there with a little dirt under my fingernails from
helping to weed someone's garden. I want to be there with children's sticky
kisses on my cheeks and the tears of a friend on my shoulder. I want the Lord to
know I was really here and that I really lived.”
Marjorie Pay Hinckley
