I just learned today that a friend of mine whom I had lost contact with over the years, Toni Kilpatrick, died of a brain aneurysm in her sleep almost 13 years ago. She was only 43. We had known each other since we were kids, we lived next door to one another, our families celebrated many holidays together, and she taught me to drive. We kind of weathered adolescence together. After she married, she moved out of state and we lost touch.
She was a character. Just the other day I was telling my sister a story of a trick she played on me when we were teenagers. It wasn't exactly a trick, but I'll just tell it: at that point in my life I was a heathen or a Buddhist (I forget which) and she was a Christian. We talked about religion, of course, and I know she felt a real obligation to talk to me about God, evangelicals call it witnessing.
However, one night her impish sense of humor got the better of her. I was spending the night at her house and we had probably talked recently about hell, and whether it existed. She said it did, and I probably said it didn't. Well, Toni couldn't let me labor under that false delusion. So in the middle of the night, when I was sound asleep, I awakened to a noise, and there was Toni in her pajamas, holding a foil pie pan that she'd gotten several lit birthday candles to stand up in somehow. She was waving the flames in front of my face and crooning in what was supposed to be a spooky voice, "You're in hellllll, you're in hellllllllll!"
Well, that woke me right up. We laughed and laughed.
It didn't convert me at that time, but no one could ever say she didn't try.
Rest in peace, dear flame-waving girl.
She was a character. Just the other day I was telling my sister a story of a trick she played on me when we were teenagers. It wasn't exactly a trick, but I'll just tell it: at that point in my life I was a heathen or a Buddhist (I forget which) and she was a Christian. We talked about religion, of course, and I know she felt a real obligation to talk to me about God, evangelicals call it witnessing.
However, one night her impish sense of humor got the better of her. I was spending the night at her house and we had probably talked recently about hell, and whether it existed. She said it did, and I probably said it didn't. Well, Toni couldn't let me labor under that false delusion. So in the middle of the night, when I was sound asleep, I awakened to a noise, and there was Toni in her pajamas, holding a foil pie pan that she'd gotten several lit birthday candles to stand up in somehow. She was waving the flames in front of my face and crooning in what was supposed to be a spooky voice, "You're in hellllll, you're in hellllllllll!"
Well, that woke me right up. We laughed and laughed.
It didn't convert me at that time, but no one could ever say she didn't try.
Rest in peace, dear flame-waving girl.
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