UNCONDITIONAL GIFT OF LIFE
The day came when my body laid upon a white sheet neatly tucked under four corners of a mattress located in a hospital busily occupied with the living and the dying.
At a certain moment, a doctor determined that my brain had ceased to function and that, for all intents and purposes, my life had stopped.
When that happened, no attempt was made to instill artificial life into my body by the use of a machine, and don't call that my death bed. Let's call it the bed of life because my body was taken from it to help others lead fuller lives.
Gave my sight to the man who had never seen a sunrise, a baby's face or love in the eyes of a woman.
Gave my heart to a person whose own heart had caused nothing but endless days of pain.
Gave my blood to the teenager who was pulled from the wreckage of his car, so that he might live to see his grandchildren play.
Gave my kidneys to one who depended on a machine to exist.
My bones were taken, every muscle, every fiber and nerve in my body and found a way to make a crippled child walk.
Every corner of my brain was explored. My cells were taken, to let them grow so that someday a speechless boy will shout at the crack of a bat and a deaf girl will hear the sound of rain against her window.
What was left of me was burned and the ashes were laid to rest on hallowed ground where flowers grow.
If you must bury something, let it be my faults, my weaknesses and all prejudice against my fellow man.
If by chance you wish to remember me, do it with a kind deed or a word to someone who needs you. If you do all I have asked, I will live forever.