Heaven sent her.

It was a glorious day, on Earth and Heaven divine. Mrs. Bridget Flaherty had woken up as a golden soul, on the other side of midnight. She was still wearing her football scarf, wrapped in her shroud. She did get a modest sendoff, after the Holy Rosary and Final Blessing. Her shade had wandered round her wake, with a roaring thirst on her, as all her long lost family of freeloaders had drunk her liquor cabinet.

"No use grumbling, there's always someone worse off..." Bridget told herself, as she lined up in the retinue waiting at the pearly gates. She patiently arrived at the front at last, meeting a large angel with a checklist greeting everyone. She admired his gleaming robes and shining face, as well as his feathered wings, folded neatly.

"Ah, Bridget Flaherty, welcome. Heaven sent you and has called your home. Come along and make yourself at home." He waved his identical football scarf at her, continuing, "Heaven is what we want to make it to be. You be you, okay?"

Bridget glimpsed through those gates, and noticed a field of emerald grasses and fragrant flowers, a crystal stream winding through this garden, verging on a shimmering seaside. She felt the need to stammer, "But, your holiness, I am not worthy. I have been a closet alcoholic all these years of my retirement. I did open my heart to Jesus when I was a child, but life did me wrong. My husband died, my children moved interstate, all I could do was drink two bottles of wine per night, and ring their answering machines. I was a very snippy teacher, merely human, who made sarcastic remarks while I was supposed to be guiding all the children's dear souls to follow the brotherhood of Our Lord, Jesus. Are you sure you have here right ghost now, the right Bridget Flaherty? Maybe I have a better quality double soul, and you've taken the wrong one from Liquorland."

"There," Bridget told herself, "I've let the cat out of the bag."

"Fear not, dear heart. You did follow Heaven sent plans, but got distracted in later years. You led many younger learners in the path of respect of worship as one of our true believers. You may enter right now, and hear a testimonial. Look, there is Jesus, waiting. He too wears our scarf. Now tell me, before we proceed with your admission through these pearly gates, can our boys win the flag? It is the ultimate grail. We are one here, what are our chances this weekend ahead?"

Bridget privately wondered if this was really that important, now she had passed from that mortal coil of seeking best on ground, goal kickers, and bemoaning champions injured on the sidelines. That had been one of her other worldly sins, gambling on football and horse races, a little flutter kept up her interest. Bemused, she muttered, "Depends on our stars and the umpires. It's about each way if our boys can win again. She definitely did not wish to offend this slightly worldly, but angelic, welcome to Heaven.

The greeting angel ticked a box on his checklist. "Ah, undecided. I shall let Jesus know how this opinion poll is rating. Come along now, you may enter straight away. As you might say, there is always someone worse off. They support inferior teams." The shade of Bridget tried not to roll her eyes. She had thought that all was inclusive in Paradise, but she was secretly hoping not to meet any former umpires she had silentlyor verbally condemned on Earth. They had added to some of her unChristian thoughts,

She proceeded to gather at the feet of Jesus, who was smiling and blessing the new additions to His heavenly flock. Soon, as time seemed to slow down here, it was Bridget's turn to listen to her personal testimony from some unknown ghostly relative or acquaintance of her past.

Jesus was flanked by two guardian angels, who announced the late Bridget Flaherty. A young male stepped forward, as Bridget peered at him. He waved chirpily. "No," she mumbled, "couldn't be ....Brody Flanagan. My, you did bloom into such a handsome young man.!"

Brody smiled and started his tribute, as the crowd and host of divinities listened eagerly.

"Mrs. Flaherty taught me all my subjects like reading, writing, Arithmetic and Religion way back when in Grade Six. I must have been one of her naughtiest and most annoying students, I just could not do the schoolwork, I hated school and all that formal stuff. My horrible father sent me to that Catholic school of repression, to teach me more discipline than I already had at home. He was worse than Hitler. Mrs. Flaherty never once yelled at me, she was firm but included me as one of her class of pals. Every other teacher I had yelled at me, or punished me cause I was failing all those tests all the time. But she taught me lots of things, like being a good friend, that Jesus was always my guide, and even when I swore or did mischief, I was still one of the Christian band. I really played up when I left school early. I did end up in a boys' home, and then got in with a really bad crowd .While I was doing time, I spent a lot of time praying with the chaplain, and decided to stay clean when I got paroled. I became a big brother to other young boys wandering on the wrong track. I never lost sight then of the kindness of Mrs. Flaherty. She even taught me how to join in sports team, and how to swim. That was when we both much younger. I got run over by a hit and run motorist, and here we both are. Plus, of course, we always cheered for our team. Love the scarf!"

Jesus smiled and blessed Bridget, whose shade was feeling quite overcome by some praise for once, instead of all those hours she had spent regretting being basically a mere human in her path in her earthly life. Heaven is definitely what anyone makes it to be. Heaven sent her, and now her Lord was smiling as He said, "Well done, loyal Bridget. "

Somewhere, somehow, with no radio or smart phone, there was live streaming of each big match. As the years rolled by in an ephemeral dimension, the crowds still had their team loyalty, faith kept burning for the team. Jesus was totally best on ground. Below the world of Planet Ark kept on turning, heavenly sent.