The Time Keeper

by Mitch Albom

“Please, let me die. I have no wish to go on.” The old man rose. “The length of your days does not belong to you. You will learn that as well.”

“You marked the minutes,” the old man said. “But did you use them wisely? To be still? To cherish? To be grateful? To lift and be lifted?”

“You don’t really fix clocks, do you?” “I prefer them broken.” “Why is that?” Victor said. Dor looked at the grain of sand in his fingers. “Because I am the sinner who created them.”

“Why are you drawing it?” “To remember.” “She died?” “I wanted to perish, too.” “You really loved her?” “I would have given my life.” “Would you have taken it?” “No, child,” he said. “That is not ours to do.”

Time is not something you give back. The very next moment may be an answer to your prayer. To deny that is to deny the most important part of the future.” “What’s that?” “Hope.”

“There is a reason God limits our days.”

“Why?” “To make each one precious.”