This is a story about a woman named Annie, and it begins at the end, with Annie falling from the sky. Because she was young, Annie never thought about endings. She never thought about heaven. But all endings are also beginnings.
And heaven is always thinking about us.
At the time of her death, Annie was tall and lean, with long curls of butterscotch hair, knobby elbows and shoulders, and skin that reddened around her neck when she was embarrassed. …
Faith, critics say, is belief without evidence. Nowhere is this truer than when we talk about heaven. An overwhelming number of human beings believe in the hereafter. Not one has indisputable proof.
But many have stories. Some are their own. Some are passed down. Some have been read. Some have been repeated. The best ones give you chills. But they all give you pause. And this much I can tell you:
There are more than you think.