A man came in, sat down beside me, and started talking. He was wearing a sport coat and tie and didn't look like a doctor. Then he introduced himself as the chaplain for The Towers.

     "I've heard about you," he said. "Would you mind if I stopped by one evening and talked with you?" I told him that I would welcome a visit, and we chatted. The subject of heaven and hell came up in our conversation.

     "Don't worry about my soul," I told him. "I know, without a doubt, that I'm going to heaven when I die."

     "How do you know?" he asked.

     "Because I have already been to hell a hundred times," I replied. That left him speechless.

From page 108

     On Monday morning, one of the students gave me one of the most soul-satisfying experiences of my life. I was sitting on a bench in physical therapy when I spotted Tommy Elridge, a former roommate of mine from the University of Virginia hos­pital. Tommy was up and walking with leg braces and crutches. He slowly hobbled over and sat down beside me.

     "I want to thank you, Morris," he said.

     "For giving me the courage to walk," Tommy replied. "Back when we were both in the University Hospital and I was really suffering and feeling sorry for myself, your courage came shining through. I would lie in bed and look at you, with all your problems, and you were always smiling and giving en­couragement to everyone. Then I would start to feel ashamed of myself.

     "My problems, bad as they were, were nothing compared to yours. It took several months for it to really sink in, though. You don't know it, but one day not long ago, I was here in therapy when you were struggling to learn to walk. I watched as you stumbled and fell, picked yourself back up, and kept going. That day I said to myself, if he can do it with all he's been through, then so can I.

From page 175