Some people collect stamps.  Others collect dolls.  Some collect coins.  I had a friend once who collected gold coins – and he died a rich man.  Doris collected thimbles.  Why thimbles? you ask. I'm not sure.  In her collection were all kinds, all shapes, all sizes.  Thimbles come in plastic, wood, silver, leather, brass, gold, pewter, china, glass.  They may have hand-painted pictures or inlaid stones or geometric designs.  Some cost nothing, some of Doris’s cost $50 or more.  Doris loved to collect thimbles, and she became known far and wide for her collection.

But then something unexpected happened: Doris died.  Within hours of her death, the relatives were all abuzz:  what will happen to the thimbles? After the funeral, women were over the thimbles like flies over a pie on a hot summer day.  There was some grabbing and some hurt feelings before the rightful heir finally walked away with her inheritance.

When some people die they’re remembered for their accomplishments.  Others for their discoveries, their talents, or their virtues.  I would like to tell you that people remember Doris for the way she used her thimbles to sew for her family; I would like to tell you that she gave away $100 to charity for every $100 she spent on thimbles.  But I can’t honestly say those things.  The fact is, Doris is remembered fondly for one thing: her thimble collection.

Nothing wrong with thimbles.  They’re useful objects I’m told, though I wouldn’t know how to use one.  But I wonder: when someone dies and the primary fact people remember is thimbles, isn’t something a little wrong?

I like William James’ challenging statement: “The purpose of life,” he wrote, “is to spend it for something that will outlive you.”  That speaks powerfully.  For my life to have a purpose, a meaning, it must be spent in pursuit of something greater than me and my interests.  One day I will not be here anymore.  A few months, a few years after they shovel dirt on my coffin, people will ask, “Gayle who?”  If I have devoted my life only to me and to my interests, people can legitimately look my direction and ask, “Why?”  I don’t want that to happen.