THE DYING MAN

One weekday morning on the North Side of Chicago, as Father Muller was
removing his vestments after Mass, a woman appeared in the sacristy.
"Father, could you bring the last sacraments to my son," she said. "I
know he will not live through the day. He lives at 1136 West
Wellington."

"I'll go now," said the priest. "Wait here while I get the Host and holy
oil." But when Father Muller returned to the sacristy, the woman was
gone. Nonetheless, he went out to his car and drove to the address the
woman had given him. He found a parking spot near the house, walked up
the front steps and rang the doorbell. A healthy-looking young man in
his late twenties answered. "Can I help you Father?" he asked. "I've
come to give Last Rites," said the priest. "You've got the wrong house,
Father," the man said, "No one here is sick."

"A woman came to me only half an hour ago, gave me this address and told
me a young man here was dying," Father Muller said. "Father, I'm the
only one who lives here, and I'm as healthy as a horse." But as the
young man spoke, Father Muller looked over the man's shoulder and saw a
photograph on the wall. "That's the woman who came to see me," he said,
pointing to the portrait. The young man grew pale. "Why don't you come
inside, Father."

Together they walked over to the photograph. "I'm certain this is the
woman who asked me to bring the sacraments to this house. She said her
son would not live to see another day."

"Father," said the young man, trembling now, "this is my mother. She's
been dead for five years."

The two men were speechless for a moment. Then the young man said,
"Father, maybe you should hear my confession and give me Communion after
all." A few hours after Father Muller had given him the last sacraments,
the young man dropped dead from a massive heart attack.

From "ALLIGATORS IN THE SEWER"     and 222 other Urban Legends, by
Thomas J. Craughwell