There was once a well-to-do woman who died and appeared at the Pearly Gates, where she met Saint Peter.

“Oh,” he said. “There you are. We’ve been waiting for you. Let me show you to your new home.”

The woman, who was used to being waited on in life, was delighted to see that not much was going to change in heaven. She eagerly followed Saint Peter down one celestial street after another; as they passed house after house, the buildings grew grander and grander until they finally came upon one that was grandest of all. It was so magnificent that it took the woman’s breath away.

“Whose mansion is that?” she asked eagerly.

“That one,” said Saint Peter, “belongs to your maid, who served you so well and so faithfully for so many years.”

At that point, the woman became very excited. “If that’s my maid’s house,” she thought, “then mine must be even more magnificent.” And she couldn’t wait to see it.

However, the next street Saint Peter led her to wasn’t nearly so grand as the others. The houses became smaller and smaller and shabbier and shabbier; the streets were narrow, dark, and dirty. The yards were ill-kept and strewn with junk. The woman was hoping that they would get through this part of heaven as soon as possible so that she could finally see her own, much better house.

At the very end of the worst street of all, Saint Peter stopped. He pointed to a dismal, tar-paper shack, with no windows and part of the roof gone. It seemed barely large enough for one person to stand up in, much less live in.

“Here we are,” he announced. “This is your new home, and it’s yours for all eternity.”

“But, but…” the woman stammered, stunned. “How can that be? My maid’s house was so incredible; how can mine be so awful?”

Saint Peter looked at her with something like pity. “We begin to build everyone’s house when they are born,” he explained. “And we keep building and building until a person dies. The only catch is,” and here he paused before moving on, “we can only use whatever materials you send to us. Your house is the end result of how you lived your life.”

It was the French Catholic writer, Leon Bloy, who once said “The only real sadness, the only real failure, the only great tragedy in life, is not to become a saint.” In a culture that seems to value everything but holiness, such a goal can seem almost unattainable. It is not, however, impossible.

While all of us are very familiar with asking God to answer our prayers, it was the saints who instead took it upon themselves to answer God’s. “Feed the hungry. Love your enemy. Seek, not pearls, but that one pearl of great price.” As you build your eternal home, take care what materials you are forwarding to heaven. God can only use whatever you send Him.