Tragic! so tragic! A quick end to an otherwise stellar life. He was such a proud guy, but he now walks on the other side. I remember when someone like him had fallen once or maybe twice, and before he got up, looked right and then left to see if anyone was watching. He jumped up straight-way and brushed himself off. So vain! Little fanfare awaits him now as he readies himself for heaven and a new mansion. All he can hear is a loud gong and clanging cymbals blasting in his ear. Looking around, he sees a large banner that reads, "Welcome to a place that is pain free and serene. See St. Peter for more details." Now with his head held high, and being somewhat proud, he starts to whistle a tune he recalls from a hymnal at his church. He struts in a small circle, thinking, I''ve made it. I''m in, and heaven''s true gift is now here. Amen. (I guess I can''t blame him for being just a little proud.) Then, just in front of him, four handshakes away, stands St. Peter. BUT THERE IS A NARROW GULF BETWEEN THEM, a deep crevice that blindly drops straight into the darkness of hell. It''s only a few steps wide, mind you; but once you cross, you go from paradise right into heaven. He perceives that his body is transforming, right where he stands, from the inside out. He yearns to cross over to heaven''s side, so bad he can taste it. "Come on over my son." A waving St. Peter says. "You can do it. Four small steps. That''s all. Then take my hand, and I''ll pull you to safety. You can do it, son. Do it now. Others are waiting." So with his head held high and his carnal mind on his new, awaiting mansion, he walks toward a waving St. Peter. All of heaven''s saints, a mighty throng, are cheering him on. He''s going to do it, and he will gain peace and safety forever and ever. Two steps to go... It all happened so fast. He had a lot on his mind. What? A threshold? "Oh no." He tripped. He has tripped over the threshold! He didn''t see it. The waiting throng is stunned, shocked! Family members simply can''t believe it. How could it happen to him? They all turn away as St. Peter pulls back his hand, stands back in disgust, and takes out his small pocket tablet, scribbling a line through a name. By it, he writes, "Pride goes before a fall..."