I say my goodbye to the wife, who is nearing death, and to the husband, wearied by caring for his love of over fifty years. This day, especially, I have observed his fatigue and unease. After visiting and prayer, I walk outside and toward my truck to leave. He comes out of the house. He has a paper in his hand, one like he had given me before - a religious newspaper published in the tiny town nearby. He is beaming with joy, as he hands me the paper. I smile, receiving it, and give gratitude. I have the paper in my apartment. I want to keep it. Some would say, "Why? It's just a tiny town religious newspaper." I say, "Why not? It's so much more."