When it’s clear that Charlie is dying, Andrew visits him every day. One day Andrew says, “Charlie, we both loved soccer all our lives, and we played soccer on Sundays together for so many years. Please do me one favour, when you get to Heaven, somehow you must let me know if there’s soccer there.”
Charlie looks up at Andrew from his death bed,” Andrew, you’ve been my best friend for many years. If it’s at all possible, I’ll do this favour for you.
Shortly after that, Charlie passes on.
At midnight a few nights later, Andrew is wake up from a sound sleep by a blinding flash of white light and a voice calling out to him, “Andrew–Andrew.”
“Who is it? asks Andrew sitting up abruptly. “Who is it?”
“Andrew–it’s me, Charlie.”
“You’re not Charlie. Charlie just died.”
“Listen to me Andrew, it’s me, Charlie,” insists the voice.
“Charlie! Where are you?”
“In heaven”, replies Charlie. “I have some really good news and a little bad news.”
“Tell me the good news first,” says Andrew.
“The good news,” Charlie says,” is that there’s soccer in heaven. Better yet, all of our old friends who died before us are here, too. Better than that, we’re all young again. Better still, it’s always spring time and it never rains or snows. And best of all, we can play soccer all we want, and we never get tired.”
That’s amazing,” says Andrew. “It’s beyond my crazy dreams! So what’s the bad news?
“You’re on the team for this Sunday’s match!”