Ray Miller Short Story

Ray Miller stood in front of the Pearly Gates, sighing with relief. He had finally made it to the top of the endless, winding marble stairs, taking in the soaring view while trying to catch his breath. The pastor pulled out an old piece of cloth from his pocket to meticulously rub his glasses and squinted at the imposing structure in front of him. His gaze followed the intricate etchings depicting the history of humanity, from the creation of Adam and Eve to the birth and death of Jesus and everything in-between, astounded by the sheer immensity of the gates. Patiently, the so-called shepherd waited behind the boisterous pilot and listened in on the conversation being held between him and Saint Peter.
“So, Joe the Pilot, is it? From Latchford, Ontario? Let me check the book.” The disciple opened an enormous leather-bound book, worn down at the corners. He licked his index …show more content…
Smiling families sat on fluffy, silver clouds, as angels with harps floated overhead. Wiping sweat from his brow, Ray Miller approached the gatekeeper and nervously stuttered out his name: “R-Ray M-Miller. I’m a pastor from Attica, Michigan. I was ordained forty years ago, and I’ve been speaking the word of God ever since.”
Saint Peter glanced at him briefly, and looked for the page that held his name. “Hmm, yes. I guess you can come in.” Peter handed the pastor a ratty robe made of wool and a small wooden staff. “Welcome to heaven, Ray.”
Ray, glad to have been accepted, but curious about the difference in treatment he received from Joe the Pilot, stopped just before the gates. “Hey, Saint Peter, what’s the deal? I’ve been a pastor for my whole adult life, and I get this ugly robe and staff while Joe the atheist gets silk and gold?”
Saint Peter rubbed at his eyes, looking exhausted. “Ray, when you preached, your congregation slept; but when Joe the Pilot flew his plane, every single passenger prayed for dear