Death, Hell, and Dessert

Throughout her childhood, my little sister Ruth had over thirteen near death experiences. Once she fell into a ditch of rushing water, once she got locked in an air tight freezer, once she fell from the top of our highest cherry tree, and once she was followed home by a mysterious man in a white van. But I never thought that last one should have counted along with so many more that I’m not mentioning.
After each deathly encounter she would emerge back to mortality with glorious tales of the after life! How everyone glittered and had magnificent wings of gold and crystal. How they petted her, and gave her delicious things to eat. But always in the midst of her whimsy, she would hear my mother calling, “Ruthie, Ruthie, come back, you’re too young to die. Come back.” And once again she would cheat death and be renewed. At first, we were all fascinated by these accounts, but I soon grew weary of hearing about all the cupcakes, cinnamon buns, and peanut butter brownies that they would serve her on glistening jeweled platters.
Once I asked her if she had seen our grandmother up there. She said that she had, and that Tiny had been wearing sparkly emerald earrings, and an emerald robe to match. “Aha!” I thought, “What a liar! Everybody knows that Tiny went to hell!”