There is a popular Catholic anecdote that once a person dies and he goes to heaven, he will be interviewed by St. Peter at the Pearly Gates. He will be made to account for his time on earth.
Parents would probably say, they've taken care of their children; teachers that they've given education to people; doctors that they’ve healed the sick. And others might say they've created something – painting, great story or poem, etc.
When it is my turn, provided I go to heaven considering, I cannot possibly claim I’ve read the great literature of the world. I have nothing to show for it but the books on my shelf which is not really an indication that I had read them. I had not done any good deeds. I had been living my life as solitary and as away from human contact as I possibly can.
Then it occurred to me, I have my drawings. They’re not great work of arts. But even in their simplicity, each one of them took up at least two hours of my time. Several insomniac nights in February had me taking my colored pencils. Two hours later each sleepless night, already sleepy and right hand bones slightly painful from the unusual exercise, I have a colored pencil drawing of a flower.
Pathetic claim to life lived I know but it’s so much better than “I had gone to college and had a career”. Because I might also be told "of course you did, but did you shine in college or in your chosen career? Have you changed someone or something while doing your job? Anyone can go to a job everyday and plod on. But other than that, what had you done with your time?"
Well everyone can go to work and plod on maybe but not everyone can draw certainly. So there you are St. Peter.
I like it.
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