Drawing+The Gate of Heaven
The Gate of Heaven
Long ago, he lived a hard-hard, rich print, but he was very stingy. He would never have given anything. Only one night he dreamed that he had died and had come to heaven's door. There, St. Peter said:
- Come with me to show you where you're going from now on.
And they walked through those wonderful gardens, until at some point they reached a large and beautiful palace.
"Oh," cried the young prince, "will I stand here?"
No, in no case.
But who will be here?
Here, after your dying, you will live, your gardener.
How can he, who has nothing, who is poorly attached to the earth, how can he deserve something?
Well, your gardener does not have a fortune on the ground, because everything he earns always divides his fellow villagers. He does not gather anything on earth, because he gives, but here, look how tight! Everything you see here is the fruit of his goodness.
Okay, so where am I gonna stay? The Prince was unhappy.
Look there in that shit!
How in that sandramawu ?! Well, there are just some ragged planks that stand ready-to-fall. How to live in that mess? Is that right?
"Of course it is right," replied Saint Peter. Think about it, what did you do? Nothing. What would you like to be here !? If you were good and lucky as your gardener, then you would have had such palaces, maybe even more, but so. Everything you see there is the fruit of your wailing.
At that moment the young print awoke from his dream. From that day, it has changed. He has not gathered treasures on earth, but in heaven. He has not gathered wealth over the riches, for what would he use for him later?
