As it approached morning, I asked, “Would you like to go into the living room and watch the sunrise over the lagoon?” He nodded affirmatively. We got him into a wheelchair, pushed through two rooms and parked in front of a picture window facing the east. While sitting, I noticed a bible on an end table, picked it up and flipped it open. I glanced down to see Psalm 111. I was not familiar with this passage but read it aloud anyway. Upon finishing, I observed Lenny with tears welling. I asked, “ What’s up, Lenny.” He scribbled on a scrap of paper, “My favorite Psalm.”
As I was wheeling him back to the bedroom, We passed a poster of his mounted on the wall, announcing a Paul Gauguin exhibition. I distinctly heard a voice say, “ When I leave, you can have that.” Lenny could not speak, so I glanced at him and asked, “You want me to have that?” He nodded affirmatively. Four days later, on Thursday, while four others who were in attendance stepped out of his room briefly for a conference, Lenny slipped away to Peace. The following Saturday, his pastor called and informed me that long before he left, Lenny had requested I read his favorite Psalm, One Hundred Eleven, ,at his memorial service. She asked would I be willing. I gladly accepted this honor.