The day will come when my body will lie upon a white sheet, neatly tucked under four corners of a mattress located in a hospital busily occupied with the living and the dying. At a certain moment a doctor will determine that my brain has ceased to function, and that for all intents and purposes, my life has stopped.

When that happens, do not attempt to instill artificial life into my body by use of a machine. And don't call this my deathbed. Let it be called the bed of life, and let my body be taken from it to help others lead fuller lives.

Give my sight to the man who has never seen a sunrise, a baby's face or the love in the eyes of a woman. Give my kidneys to one who depends on a machine from week to week. Take my bones, every muscle, every fibre and nerve of my body, and find a way to make a crippled child walk. Explore every corner of my brain. Take my cells, if necessary, and let them grow so that someday a speechless boy will shout at the crack of a bat, and a deaf girl will hear the sound of rain against her window.

Burn what is left of me and scatter the ashes to the wind to help the flowers grow. If you must bury something, let it be my faults, my weaknesses, and all prejudice against my fellow man.

Give my sins to the devil. Give my soul to God. If by chance you wish to remember me, do it with a kind deed or word to someone who needs you. If you do all I have asked, I will live forever.

Robert N. Test, Transplant recipient